Unrehearsed

Before we get started, let me tell you about myself. My name is Faye, I was sixteen and you’d never have been able to describe me as ‘just your average teenager’. My life had never been straight forward, my mother died shortly after giving birth to me and I was left in my father’s care.

However, at this time, my father was only fifteen. Yeah, that’s right, fifteen.

What kind of a teenager would want to look after a screaming baby? Not him, that’s for sure, so while he was out having band practise, going to school and getting wasted with his friends, for the first year of my life I was left in the care of my Grandma. To him, I was just the result of a drunken, one night stand.

She finally had enough of his neglect toward me, and as soon as I was past the stage of waking everyone up every two hours during the night, my Dad was told that when he wasn’t at school, or at band practise, he’d be looking after me.

So as you can see, my life hasn’t been completely straight forward, and it still isn’t. As much as I’d like it to have been, it never was.

I didn’t go to school, I was home schooled by my Dad and occasionally one of his friends, because I didn’t have the option of getting settled anywhere.

That was the main reason I was so bitter toward my Dad and anyone associated with him, he was famous, very famous and I was hated for it.

Every fucker had heard of him, Gerard fucking Way. The vocals of My Chemical Romance: the band that I despised with the very essence of my soul.

He insisted that I go on tour with him, telling me that my Grandma had her own life to get on with and her own career to concentrate on. So he was basically saying that if I stayed behind while he went off on tour, her coffee shop would fall to pieces?

Oh please.

My life consisted of putrid smelling tour buses that I had to clean, sweaty clothes, sweaty men and thousands of screaming teenagers.

I had a massive two friends, who I rarely saw but still managed to keep in touch with. You’d think with my father being who he was I’d have people queuing up to be my friends.

Well, you’d be right in thinking that because I did, but I liked to play my cards close to my chest, I stuck with the girl and the boy who’d been with me from the very start. Christopher and Lola. I knew they weren’t using me to get close to my father; they were friends with me, for me, not Gerard Way.

I guess things really started to fall to shit during the Black Parade tour. It was a bumpy ride.
So I, Faye Elena Way, am going to tell the story of the Black Parade tour, from start to finish. Or, I’ll try at least.