My Medical Romance

“Iris!” My mother looked pleased. “I have the night off. Feel up to watching a movie? We can make nachos.”

“Sounds great, Ma, just let me put my stuff down.”

“So how are things with Donna’s son?”

“His name’s Mikey. He’s alright. He and his brother have a band.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What are they called?”

“I don’t know yet, actually. It’s a secret.”

The rest of the night went by peacefully. The two of us sat sprawled on the couch, picking at our nachos and sobbing our way through some cheesy yet surprisingly emotional chick flicks. I was much better at those than monster movies.

There was no word from Mikey or anyone else in the days that followed. It wasn’t until Tuesday that I saw him again, sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Baxter’s office, reading the Rolling Stone magazine. When he finally looked up, I saw that he was sporting a black eye. Gerard looked a little better off with just a split lip.

“How did Ray and Frank end up?” I asked as my mother signed me in. “Are they okay?”

Mikey scratched at one of his arms. I slapped his hand away.

“You’re just going to make it worse. How are Ray and Frank?” I asked again.

“They’re alright, Frank chipped a tooth, I think, but Ray only has a few scratches. They’re going to be at band practice tomorrow, too. Feel like coming over?”

“Of course,” I sighed, relieved that no one had been hurt too badly.

“Are you dating yet?” Pat asked as she finished up with my shots.

I paused. “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t mind it, though.”

“I don’t think he would either. Well, see you next week, Iris.”

“Thanks, Pat,” I replied and walked back out to wait.

“Who won?” I whispered to Mikey. My mother and Gerard had gotten into another conversation about medicines, starting at asthma steroids and ending at antidepressants.

“Them, I think. It was hard to tell.”

“Will you tell me what it’s called, now? I’ve been dying to know.” I touched the side of his face gingerly, trying not to aggravate his injuries.

“Tomorrow. We’re celebrating with a five hour band practice.”

“Sounds like a party,” I agreed sarcastically, thinking of all the “guitar burn” (as Ray called it) they’d suffer from. My mother handed Gerard a business card for the therapist she’d made me go to when she and my dad first told me they were splitting, and we went home.

“Mikey?” I called cautiously into the garage. The lights were out, but there’d been a sign on the door that welcomed me in. The lights flipped on from behind me and I let out an excited laugh.

“Just take a seat anywhere, Iris,” Gerard suggested, peering down at me from beyond the lights. Everything was set up like a real stage. Even Bob, who I’d never actually seen anything but the torso of because he was always behind a desk, was ready to go.

“WE!” I tripped over my own feet at the sudden sound. “ARE! MY! CHEMICAL! ROMANCE!” Gerard yelled, and what happened next could only be described as a symphonic mess of noise and emotion. This was nothing like the mix tape in the library. I sat mesmerized, looking at the five strangers in front of me. They weren’t the outcasts here.

This was their domain, and they ruled with golden harmonies.

Finally finished, Mikey came and sat down next to me, laughing to himself.

“You’re face is pretty funny right now, Iris,” he explained, slinging one arm over my shoulder.

“You guys are fantastic. Brilliant, amazing,” I sputtered before leaning into him. “My Chemical Romance,” I breathed. “That’s got to be the best thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“What about My Medical Romance?” he suggested, facing me. “That’s us, isn’t it?”

“For god’s sake, Mikey, just kiss her and come on!” Frank moaned, sprawled out across the stage, playing his guitar lazily.

Both blushing, he placed a light kiss on my cheek before jumping back onto the stage.