The True Lies of the Once Fabulous Killjoys

“We could start a band.”

“Yeah, right, as if anyone would ever listen to us?”



“Are you ready, Ray?”

“Yeah!”

“How about you Frank?”

“Oh, I’m there, baby.”

“How about you Mikey?”

“Fuckin’ ready!”

“And what about you, Bob? Bob!” Gerard screamed when he was met with silence. “Bob, would you pay attention!”

Bob Bryar was drumming lazily, his eyes focussed out the large window on the opposite side of the rehearsal studio. Gerard’s voice roused Bob from his current attentions; he looked at him apologetically.

“Sorry, Gerard, but you know Lauren’s coming today,” he reasoned. “I want to know the second she gets here.”

It had been six years since BL/IND’s rein had ended, and almost as long since Lauren ‘Lady Killer’ Everett had been gone. In that time, Gerard, Frank, Mikey, Ray, and Bob had formed a band like they had joked about shortly after the war, naming themselves My Chemical Romance. Their music was raw and told, through severe metaphors, of the harsh reality of the war they had been fighting against BL/IND, the rollercoaster of emotions they had experienced at the time, and the lives they had led before they became Killjoys.

For the first couple of years they had produced albums with material they had written when they were younger, a lot of which seemed to fit with their time as Killjoys as well. But their last album, that was being released tomorrow, was specifically about the war, right down to the title Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys. Their fan base was comprised mostly of ex-Killjoys and was still quite small, but they were gaining new fans each day.

The group had remained at the Zone 2 house when the war had ended, but Lauren had decided to move out not even a year later. She had kept in touch with the occasional email, a phone call if she was in an area with reception, but no one knew exactly where she had ended up, and only one of them knew why she’d left. All the guys missed her greatly, but Bob had found it especially hard.

“Dude, we’ve got an album launch show to perform tomorrow and just one song left to practice today, so let’s just get this done,” Gerard told the blonde headed man in an exasperated tone. “Lauren’s not going to be here for another hour anyway.”

With the anticipation of Lauren’s arrival hanging in the air the band was able to charge through the final song in record time. By time Lauren was due to arrive the guys had already stored their instruments and were lounging across the various sofas and arm chairs available in the spacious studio.

“She should be here, it’s after three!” Bob stressed to his fellow band mates as if they were back in the war where someone’s promptness was imperative.

“It’s three minutes after three,” Ray deadpanned. “Chill, babe, she’ll be here.”

As if on cue, the entrance door to the studio slammed shut loudly and the echo of running feet on timber floor echoed throughout the quiet building. All five men instantly jumped to their feet. When the figure rounded the corner they were more than shocked.

“You’re not Lauren.”



I promised I’d come, Lauren kept telling herself over and over as she grew closer to the Muse Studios, a low-key recording studio in California. She was still saying it in her mind as she pulled her faithful red mustang alongside the kerb. Inside awaited the friends she hadn’t seen in half a decade, the ones she’d been misleading for half a decade, and the ones who she had wanted to run back to so many times.

Outside the car, Lauren turned to her travel companion. “Ready to meet some old friends of mine?”

She didn’t get an answer as the boy ran from her into the brick building. Reluctantly she took her own tentative steps after him, knowing that she couldn’t turn back now that he was inside.

Lauren was a few feet away from the practice studio itself when she heard Bob’s ‘You’re not Lauren’ remark. For the first time in what felt like years, Lauren grinned; Bob had missed her. Her euphoria only lasted a moment, then the reality sunk in that she now had a lot of explaining to do. Taking in a deep breath to steady herself, she stepped around the corner.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favourite men!” she exclaimed.

There was no chance to do or say anything else as she was yanked into a bone crushing hug by a blur of black clothing and blonde hair. Her arms instantaneously wrapped around Bob. When he finally stepped back she could have sworn she’d seen the glisten of a tear in the corner of his eye. One by one each of the men embraced her in a warm hug until there was only Mikey left. He didn’t make any attempt to come near her; he sat right back down. His rejection hurt, but she ignored the stabbing pain in her chest and forced herself to look away from his hard as steel eyes.

“We’re so glad you’re here,” Bob beamed at her. “How was the trip? How have you been? Where have you been? What – ”

“– Bob, calm down,” she laughed out.

“Sorry – I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, but there’s something I have to tell you all.” Lauren located the small boy in the corner of the room and motioned for him to join her. She stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders and glanced around at her friends’ confused faces. “This is Benjamin... my son.”