The Crumbling Pyramid

“Mikey, come on. It’s so much fun, you’ll learn loads, and it’s nerdy enough even for you.”

“Gee, I’ve never done any of this stuff before. I’ll be lousy at it.”

“No you won’t, they’ll teach you on the job. I never knew how to work a sound board until they put me on the mic crew for Cinderella. It was a blast.”

“But—”

“You’re interviewing for tech. You’ll thank me later when you’re having the best time ever,” Gerard demanded, and he grabbed his little brother’s arm and dragged him into the theatre.

It had been about three weeks since the first day of school. Three weeks since Mikey had found out that Anette Fucking Baker was in three of his classes. Three weeks since she had dared to sit at their table in History (a stunt she hadn’t repeated since). And three weeks since Gerard first proposed the Mikey should interview to be on a tech crew for Grease.

Mikey supposed it was because his brother was lonely at theatre. Sure, the drama kids were sort of few and they were all pretty close friends, but none of Gerard’s main friends (Mikey, Ray, and Frank) were affiliated with it, except for freshman year when Frank played guitar in the pit for the musical that year, Guys and Dolls. But now it was Gee’s last year, and maybe he wanted to infect someone else with the drama bug. Mikey really didn’t know.

The theatre had quite a few people in it. A couple people were on the stage, including Anette. Everyone else sat in the seats, the veterans in the front few rows and chatting animatedly, and newbies, mainly freshman, sitting more near the middle, all of them nervous. Gerard took a seat in the second row next to someone he apparently knew, and Mikey sat next to him, not looking at anyone. He could feel people staring though, and he wished he could evaporate on the spot.

It didn’t take long for things to get started. “Hey, quiet please!” yelled one of the girls on stage.

“Thank you!” everyone who knew what was going on called back, and then there was silence.

“Awesome. Thanks for coming everyone! I’m the troupe president Beth, and I’d like to get things going as quickly as possible. Anette and Hailey are going to pass these sheets out while Mr. Wind and I explain the process,” Beth said, grinning. Anette and Hailey promptly began handing out the bright purple packets. Mikey thanked some unknown god silently when it was Hailey who gave him and Gerard the packet.

Beth talked about the troupe rules and expectations as Mikey read through the packet. It contained a lot of questions, half of which he didn’t know how to answer. Gerard helped him silently though as Mr. Wind took over, and Mikey slowly began penciling in his answers like everyone else around him was doing.

“So, I want boys to go with Mr. Rose, for the singing portion, girls to go with Carol to do dancing, and the techies to come with me so I can look over your forms and interview you,” Mr. Wind said, and everyone stood up. Mikey took his pencil with him, trying to finish as he followed all the techies to the backstage classroom. He told Gerard he’d do good as he left to go sing, and then he was all alone in a sea of drama kids.

Mikey ended up near the back of the line to his relief, and he finished up the last few questions, answering as best he could. He just hoped they would be enough. Or maybe they wouldn’t, and that would be fine too, because then he could stop all this awkward nonsense and just go home and chill with Ray and Frank and practice his bass.

Then it was his turn. He sat in the chair across from Mr. Wind as he accepted his packet and began glancing through it. “Mikey Way. You related to Gerard?” he asked, looking up at Mikey with an easy smile.

“Yeah. He’s my older brother,” Mikey said, unsticking his throat. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“Good, good. He’s a hard worker, so I expect you’ll be quite similar. Of course, I could be entirely wrong. I see you’ve never done tech before.”

“No, but I’d like to learn lights or sound. I fixed my brother’s amp once,” Mikey added, hoping that would be helpful.

“Really? Any other electronic hobbies?” Mr. Wind asked, genuinely interested.

“Um, well, Gee and I used to build models when we were little, and I would light them up. And I fix electronic stuff a lot. So I guess, yeah,” he ended lamely.

Mr. Wind’s eyes seemed to be dancing with delight. “Very good. Well, time’s up, but I think I know just what to do with you, Mikey. See you around.”

“Thanks Mr. Wind. Bye.”

-

Mikey had to wait for Gerard somewhere else—he wasn’t allowed to watch the auditions. Instead, he sat outside, looking over the lyrics for a new song Gerard had given him this morning to see if it had any potential. And of course, he was constantly thinking of a band name.

The four of them had decided to form a band at the beginning of summer, and although they were pretty good (in Mikey’s opinion) and had a few original songs already, they still didn’t have a name. Or a drummer. But since it was more in his power to make a band name than find a drummer, Mikey focused on the name. The word “chemical” had been stuck in his head for a while now, but he didn’t know what to do with it, other than something awesome. It was driving him absolutely mental.

“You gonna sit there all night or do you want to come home?”

Mikey looked up from the paper he had been staring at to see Gerard standing there, eyebrows raised. Mikey stuffed the paper in a notebook and the notebook inside his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and stood. “Yeah, I’m coming,” he replied, and they walked to Gerard’s car together.

“So, how was it?” Mikey asked as they got in and drove away from the school.

Gerard’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel and Mikey immediately anticipated the answer. “It… well, half-sucked,” he finally replied. He gritted his teeth in agitation. “The singing wasn’t that bad. I think I actually did pretty good. But…” He stopped and tried to relax so he wouldn’t accidentally crash the car. “But the dancing fucking sucked. I screwed up so, so bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“So they taught us all this dance, right? Then we danced in groups, which were pretty small, ‘cuz there weren’t a lot of us. There were, like, four in mine. Anyways, I just couldn’t get the damn dance—you know I’ve always sucked at dancing. And then… it was just a fucking disaster. I’ll probably get chorus if I’m lucky.”

“Well, if you sing well, won’t you just get a part that requires lots of singing and minimal dancing?” Mikey asked, confused.

Gerard sighed. “I wish it worked that way. If you want any sort of lead, or role with like, important singing, you gotta be pretty much good at all three—acting, singing, and dancing. Plus, it’s Grease. There’s a lot of dancing in it.”

Mikey wanted to say that he thought Gerard probably did great, but didn’t want to press Gerard. He, instead, was silent the rest of the way home.

-

Ray didn’t know why, but he had for some reason insisted on bringing his guitar to school today. Maybe it was because he hadn’t gotten to practice the night before. Maybe it was because he had had a dream involving a specter-possessed monster truck destroying his guitar before it chased after him. Maybe it was the fact that when he looked over some of Gerard’s new lyrics this morning over his cereal, he had been struck with inspiration that just couldn’t wait. But probably, it was some combination of all three of the these things, in varying degrees of importance.

Either way, he was currently sitting in a corner he liked to frequent when he wanted to be alone, or when he was on his free hour (like he was now), with his guitar in his lap, his book bag and guitar case to one side of him, a notebook filled with lyrics and notes and a pencil on the other side. He was mindlessly strumming out a Metallica guitar line as he thought about the day’s events.

Gerard spent most of the day silent, meaning he was freaking out. Ray didn’t blame him. According to Mikey, his dance audition last night for Grease went badly (though Ray thought that this was just Gerard being harsh on himself and that it actually hadn’t been that bad), and now Gerard was thinking he wouldn’t get the part he wanted, or even a part at all. Ray, Frank and Mikey all thought this was nonsense, because Gerard had been doing shows since his freshman year, and had been in the theatre troupe since the end of said year. He had plenty of experience, and was sure to be in the show in some way. Though Ray could understand how badly Gerard wanted a key role in the show. So in a way, he was justified in all his actions.

Someone who wasn’t justified in their actions, at least in Ray’s opinion, was Mikey. Okay, they all got it. Anette was one of those people, those people who had been causing the whole group misery since they hit mid school. Those people who had given Frank swirlies, beat Ray up on the playground, harassed Gerard by putting rude notes in his locker, and broken Mikey’s glasses twice. Those people, who had beaten the crap out of himself and Mikey at the movie theater that summer night. But if Anette was really one of those people, why had she put a stop to it then? Why had she made her boyfriend give them a ride home, sat at their History table the first day, treated Gerard like an old friend? Ray decided that this was because she wasn’t really one of them, but just someone who pretended to be. She had been really nice to them all, which was what someone who was at the top simply didn’t do. And for this reason, Ray thought Mikey’s dislike of her was misplaced.

Speaking of Anette, she was walking down the hallway Ray was in, which surprised him, because he was in a rather secluded part of the school. She spotted him and smiled, to which he replied with a wave. She walked over, and said, “Hi Ray. Do you mind if I sit with you? I’m bored to tears.”

“Not a problem,” Ray said, shifting himself and his possessions around so as to not be in her way. “I’m not doing much anyways.”

“Sure you are,” Anette said, sitting down beside him. “You’ve got all this stuff out.” She mentioned to his guitar and the notebook.

“I’m pretty much finished anyways,” he said, closing the notebook. “I figured out a few riffs, so I’ll just have to show the guys after school at practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, band practice.” Ray was unsure of how much he could tell Anette. Even if she was nice, it could all be just an act. She was an actress, after all. “Me, Gee, Frank and Mikey are in a band together.”

Anette beamed. “That’s so cool! I didn’t know any of you could play instruments except Frank.”

“We just started this summer. But we still need a drummer. Know any?” Ray asked with a small laugh.

“Unfortunately, no. Do you guys have a name?”

“Nope. Mikey’s been thinking about one though for ages.”

They were silent for a few minutes while Ray packed his guitar away carefully and Anette got out some homework to start labeling. Finally, Ray asked, “How was your audition? Gee’s been flipping shit about his all day.”

“Well, I’m not the best dancer in the world, but I think I did okay. My singing audition was strong. I know I’m going to get a part, anyways. We’ll see about a lead though—they’re posting callbacks right after school.” Anette paused, checking something in her planner. “I’m sure Gerard will get in. He’s hard on himself, but he’s actually pretty good. I mean, I don’t think he could be Danny, but I could see him as Dominic or Roger.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so, ‘cuz he doesn’t. He’s convinced he’ll get chorus.”

“I doubt it.”

There was another pause as Anette sent a text back to Dawn, telling her she’d have to see if she was going to callbacks or not and would let her know then if she could hang out. But before either Ray or Anette could say anything more, the bell signaling the end of school rang, and it was time to go.

“See you around, Ray. This was nice.”

“Yeah. I hope you and Gee get callbacks.”

“Thanks. See you.”

“Bye.”

Then they parted their separate ways, Anette to the theatre and call board, and Ray to his locker, car, then home.