Collision

Alex got quite the positive reaction for her new hair from everybody, but especially Liza. I think she liked the fact that it was red, because, as she disclosed to me later, her favourite colour was red. I asked if I could bring Alex with me to the little “party” they were planning, and I’d got an enthusiastic yes (mostly, Liza also said, because Zacky wanted to see her again, which had made Alex turn a nice shade of pink.)

My sister spent more time getting ready than I thought possible — at four in the afternoon she said she was going to go get ready, and then it took her until just before six thirty, when I came to get her, to decide on an outfit. For my part I simply threw on my nice pair of skinny grey jeans and a bright pink t-shirt, a white hoodie and my favourite jacket over it all. When Alex saw me she tutted loudly, but she was too worried about her own clothes to comment on my own.

“How do I look?” She demanded, when I stepped on the bus. I looked her up and down, taking in the short skirt and slashed black top showing a red one through, which matched the fiery streaks of colour in her hair quite nicely.

“Goth?” I replied, snickering. She glared at me. “Uhm, okay, er, cool? What do you want me to say?”

“Stunning would be nice,” she said, picking up a pair of knee-high boots from near the sofa, and sitting down to put them on.

“Fine. You look absolutely stunning. Zacky won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

I noticed her blush, even under her pale foundation and despite the fact she ducked her head to hide it. “I’m not... it’s not...” she mumbled quickly, apparently totally embarrassed by my teasing comment. Then, as she zipped up her boots, she cleared her throat and looked up. “Now what are we going to do about you?” she asked, apparently recovered. I could see she was still embarrassed though, but I said nothing.

“What about me?” I asked, confused.

“Well, you can’t wear that,” she said, as if it was obvious.

“Why not?”

“Because! It’s a party! I’m not letting you go like that!” She huffed and stood up. “Come on, I’m dressing you.”

“What? No!” I protested, but it was too late because she’d already decided she was doing it and grabbed hold of my wrist to pull me to her bunk. She pushed me into sitting on the mattress, then started digging through her suitcases. “None of your stuff will fit me,” I said. “Especially not jeans with your legs.”

“Actually, I think we’re nearer in size than you think,” she said, only glancing up quickly to look me up and down. “You won’t need jeans anyway.”

“I still don’t see what’s so wrong with what I’m wearing,” I muttered resentfully, as she handed me a black bundle of fabric I thought was a shirt but which turned out to actually be a shirt-style dress. Then she chucked a belt at me, which I had to duck away from because it sailed straight towards my head.

“Careful, you almost hit me!”

“Oh, I missed? Oops,” She said lightly, finally straightening up. She pointed at me, and then snapped her fingers. “Go on. Go change. Now.”

I grumbled — wasn’t I meant to be the bossy older sister? — but did what she said. It would be easier in the long run, even if it meant letting Alex push me around. And secretly, I think I was quite pleased she’d decided to try and help me, because it meant that I would probably end up looking quite good (if a bit darker than my normal look. I’d have to keep my bright pink shoes or something.)

I slid quickly out of my top, pulled the shirt-dress over my head and buttoned it up. Then, shedding my jeans, I finished by threading the belt around my waist and turned to Alex, who’d covered her eyes. “Alright, is this better?” I asked, slightly tiredly, glancing at my watch. It was almost six thirty now, which meant that soon we’d be late. Ah well, Alex always said you should never turn up on time anyway.

She nodded, dropping her hands. “Slightly. Undo the top button, and straighten the hem out.” I did as I was told and she looked satisfied. “Very good, Cam. You clean up nice. The guys will be drooling.”

I laughed to cover up just how pink that made my cheeks turn. Alex noticed anyway. “You got someone in mind?” she questioned, nudging me with an elbow.

“Hardly,” I said, flatly. “And what does it matter if I did?”

“It doesn’t, but it’s just my job as your sister to pry. Come on, let’s go.” She handed me my discarded white hoodie, and instructed me to zip it up only halfway. Then, she took hold of my arm and together we walked outside. It was a nice night for once, not too cold and not too dark. The stars were twinkling prettily above our heads already, despite the fact it was only early evening.

We made our way over to Hello, Irony’s bus, which wasn’t hard to find — it was the only one lit up in it’s area, and I could pick up the sound of laughter and music as we got closer. The door was already unlocked, so we just pushed it open and climbed inside, and, as we walked in, I spotted the few people I recognized — MCR and Hello, Irony — all sat in various seats. Their bus was laid out differently, with the lounge area at the front, and what I assumed was the kitchen and bathroom towards the back. It was very roomy, and I gathered that was because Hello, Irony could afford to travel in style.

I tried to ignore the curious glances Alex and I got from the other people as we walked over to Liza, who jumped to her feet and threw her arms around us both in an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she said loudly, over the music.

I smiled. “Nice to see you again,” I said to Liza, looking around for a seat myself. She noticed and kicked Davey’s shin, so he moved over and left a space next to Gerard. I shot her a look, but she just grinned and pushed Alex to sit next to Zacky. She really liked pairing people up, obviously.

I looked around, taking count of the number of people. Altogether there were about twenty, which was a lot to fit in even a spacious bus like this, although quite a small amount for a party.

“Hey,” Gerard said to me, making me turn around. I returned his smile.

“Hey yourself,” I said, taking in his ever messy hair, with the short strands falling into his hazel eyes. And the sight of faint, smudged eyeliner under them. I think it was just his default look — I doubted he did much more than roll out of bed in the morning, but he pulled it off well. “I saw you had fun with soundcheck.”

He let out a little groan. “Ugh. Don’t mention that. Frank was a complete idiot. They were all complete idiots. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, really.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “What were you talking about with Liza? She wouldn’t tell me when I asked her earlier.”

“Ah,” I said, looking over at the orange-haired singer, who had made herself comfortable in Davey’s lap and looked involved in a conversation with Alex, Zacky and Davey. I smiled faintly. At least she’d kept quiet. “She was just talking about the show tonight, you know.”

He grinned. “Oh yeah. We’re performing at ten thirty. Are you gonna come see us?”

I nodded. “Of course!” I replied, fiddling with my hoodie absent-mindedly. “What songs are you gonna play?”

He laughed, then, tapping the side of his nose. “It’s a secret,” he said. “What’s your favourite song of ours, anyway?”

I thought about it for a few seconds, unsure. “I guess... The Ghost of You? Is that what it’s called? Or Teenagers...” I trailed off and smiled. “I like most of your songs.”

“Sure you do. You just don’t want to hurt my feelings,” he teased. He glanced away, quickly, and I followed his look to a table which had a stack of various bottles and cans on it. “Do you want a drink?”

I nodded, about to get up and get it myself when he put a hand on my arm to stop me and got up himself. He walked over to the table, and I turned back around. I listened to the five-way conversation going on between Alex, Zacky, Davey, Frank and Liza. Apparently they were talking about the tour, from what I could work out, and they were all grinning and chatting happily. I was glad they were all getting on, even if it made me feel slightly left out — mostly because I wasn’t part of one band or another, so all the talk of rehearsals, writing new material and being on stage didn’t apply.

Soon, though, Gerard was back, relieving me from being all on my lonesome, and he passed me a bottle. I looked at it, raising an eyebrow silently — a cider? It did look quite appealing though, so I grabbed a nearby bottle-opener to pop the cap off. I took a small sip and smiled. “Gotta love some alcohol,” I said, more to myself than anyone, but I saw Gerard grin and take a drink of his own choice of beverage — something that looked like sparkling apple juice.

“Sure. Until it fucks you up in the head,” he replied.

“Nah, you’re wrong there — that’s the best part.”

Alex looked over at us; apparently the talk of alcohol had caught her interest. I noticed she had a beer in her hands already, and I fought the urge to frown disapprovingly. She was eighteen, so she could legally drink. “Drunk Cam is awesome,” she said. “Alcohol is like... truth serum for her. And she gets really giggly and clingy and acts like your best friend.”

I made a face, not so sure I wanted everyone to know how I act when I’m drunk — or the fact that my younger sister knew that. “Yeah, well, Alex gets really loud, and then she bursts into tears randomly,” I said, taking another sip of the drink. “After a few drinks she just falls asleep. It’s so cute! Perfect for embarrassing pictures or pranks. Remember what happened with your hair? That was hilarious!”

She glared at me. “It was not funny! It took months for my hair to grow back to all the same length again!”

“You shouldn’t have got trashed at sixteen with Jack and Red in the room,” I said simply. “Those guys get inventive when they’re drunk!”

“Sounds like you guys had fun.” Gerard looked slightly amused and slightly horrified, which was an interesting combination.

“Mhmm, well, Alex has great adventures whilst drunk. Remember the whole sleeping on the roof incident? You guys even set up a tent.”

“Yeah, except Red shoved me and Finley out of it, and then this huge bloody bird attacked us! Fucking thing was all in my face, pecking and squawking.” Alex shuddered. “I hate birds. Especially when I’m drunk and Finley won’t stop screaming about being attacked by crow-shaped demons. And when I’m freezing cold and on a roof. Good for sobering you up, though, crows. Shock and pain does that, and their claws are fucking sharp.”

Zacky laughed. He has a nice laugh. “You weren’t lying Cam, that is a great adventure.” I noticed that Alex had moved closer to him than was necessary, with the space she had, but Zacky didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they looked pretty cosy there. Good for her, I thought. At least she’s getting some boy attention. I glanced up and noticed that there were posters on the ceiling, I was slightly spaced-out, staring at them, when I felt a hand on my arm, and turned back to Gerard.

It took me a moment to realize he had been talking to me, and he was looking expectant.

When I didn’t reply he grinned. “So... what do you think?” He prompted.

I blushed furiously, feeling really rude. “Erm, I’m sorry... I wasn’t... listening,” I mumbled.

He smirked. “Oh I know. That’s why I asked you a question.”

“You’re really mean; you know that?” I replied, relieved.

“Yeah, yeah, I get that enough from the others... so, anyway, as I was saying, do you have a favourite band?”

We started discussing music — surprise, surprise — and I spent a good deal of the conversation trying to work out which bands were actually ones I knew songs from and which were way too hip for me. At least Gerard liked older music, mostly, so I was on the same page there. We actually had quite similar tastes, something which caught me by surprise.

It was after about an hour of conversation when Liza walked over to us, both sitting together on the seats against the side of the bus, and put a hand on her hip. “Are you two introverts going to talk to anybody else... at all?” She questioned, a smile tugging at her lips and ruining the fake sternness to her demeanour.

“Why yes,” said Gerard, turned to her and breaking off from the spiel he’d been doing about The Smiths. “In fact, if you notice, I just talked to you.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Gee,” she chided. “You’ve been here for about an hour, and you’ve not moved and talked to anybody else except Cam here. Not that you’re not lovely and all Cam, but it’s meant to be a party. You know, dancing, music, socialising.” She quirked an eyebrow, and I noticed for the first time they were actually orange. It was hard to spot, at first, but I’d never seen someone with unnaturally-coloured eyebrows before. How the hell did you dye them without staining your skin?

“I don’t like meeting new people,” Gerard replied, slightly sullenly. “You know that, Liza.”

“Dammit. I really don’t get how you’re famous, Gee. You’re the most socially inept person I know. Even if you hide it well.” She laughed and grabbed his arm. “Come on, you’re coming with me.” She looked at me, then, as if realizing I was still there, and grabbed my arm too with her other hand. “And you Cam. There’s this guy I want you to meet.”

She dragged us both to our feet, and then strode deliberately over to a small group. I recognized Frank, but the others were completely new to me. She smiled at them, and then pushed Gerard forward and introduced him to them, pointing them out as Benmont, Travis and Nyx (a name I’m sure wasn’t the asian girl’s original one, much like her bright blue hair colour). Then she turned to me, and her smile spread into a grin.

“Now you...” she said, in a way which made me extremely apprehensive all of a sudden. She walked over to a tall, long-haired guy standing near the drinks, looking entirely at ease despite the fact he was making no moves to actually fit in. She touched his wrist, and pointed at me hovering at her side awkwardly. “Coltyn, this is Cameron. Cameron, meet Coltyn. He’s Combatant’s—”

“Lead singer,” I finished, smiling nervously at the fact it was somebody new which I had to talk to. “I know, Yasmine told me. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he said with a slight accent I didn’t recognize, nodding slowly. He turned to Liza. “Trying to set me up again?”

I blushed, but Liza shook her head. “No, Colt, I’m trying to find you some friends.”

“Oh, ouch,” he said, smirking. “I guess I should meet some new people. My thousands of fans just won’t do forever.” He turned back to me, then, looking at me with dark brown eyes, which, in this lighting, looked almost black. “Care for a drink?” He asked, motioning at the drinks behind him. I hesitated for a second, then nodded. It couldn’t do much harm — I’d only had one tonight, so far.

There was something about him I didn’t like, but he seemed friendly enough and I dismissed it as just being nervous because, frankly, I didn’t do parties or meeting new people — at least not without some hesitation. I tried to keep a smile on my face, and respond politely to the slightly awkward conversation we had going. I was using the alcohol I had in my hand now as a reason not to reply, and I found I quickly ran out and went to grab another one. Coltyn was faster; he passed me an open one as I reached my hand out. I laughed and thanked him.

By my fifth or sixth drink (I’d lost count by that time, honestly) our conversation had declined in quality a hell of a lot, although Coltyn didn’t seem to mind.

“So you’re crew?” He asked, still leaning against the table. I nodded.

“Yeah... yeah, I am.” I giggled, slightly, putting my drink to the side on the table.

“Cool. Did you hear that our latest album was certified multi-platinum yesterday?”

“Huh. What’s that one called?” I asked. I’m sure I was slurring my speech by now, but I felt warm and comfortable and I didn’t really care. I’d taken a seat on the edge of the table, unlike him, and I’d had my knees drawn up cross-legged for a while but I’d changed my position a few minutes ago so I could swing my legs about.

He looked surprised to be asked. “It’s called Fight...”

“That’s not very original. Fight by Combatant?” I said, giggling again now. Apparently alcohol made me giggle a lot. Figures. “You should have gone with something... like...” I waved my arms about vaguely, not quite sure where I was planning on taking this sentence. “You know, something cool,” I finished, shifting slightly to make myself comfortable. I obviously moved too much, though, because I found myself sliding off the table. I was surprised to find myself on my feet again. “Weird tilted table,” I muttered.

“I don’t think the table’s the problem,” he said, grinning, amused at my predicament with the tilted table.

“Of course it is,” I replied, glaring at the table in question. “Damn thing being awkward.” I looked up to face him again and realized he’d moved closer. I tilted my head to the side, curious, and wrinkled my nose up at the smell of beer on his breath. “You smell of alcohol,” I complained.

He chuckled. “You do too, Cameron,” he said, as if it was obvious. Then he leaned in even closer, and as quick as I realized what was happening and oh god he was trying to kiss me, I jolted away. He narrowed his eyes. “Something wrong?” he asked cautiously.

I opened my mouth but no words came out. I wasn’t sure what it was that had twisted my insides up at that moment, but I didn’t like it. “Um, I... I have a boyfriend,” I lied finally, as I took two steps back, away from Coltyn, and looked around for an escape route. My eyes landed Gerard, who was looking intently at me from the other side of the bus, and he raised a questioning eyebrow. I gave him a desperate look, which I hoped he picked up on, as I turned back to Coltyn.

I was trying to figure out what to say now when, suddenly, I felt an arm slide around my waist and I jumped, before I realized it was Gerard. I took in a deep breath, and he moved close to my ear. “What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper. I tried not to giggle at how his breath tickled my neck and keep a straight face.

Instead, I shook my head. “It’s... just a misunderstanding,” I mumbled, a bit more confident now I had Gerard to back me up. “Kinda...”

“How’s that?” Coltyn asked, angrily. “You’ve been flirting all evening, and then you go and say you have a boyfriend?”

I saw Gerard glance at me, puzzled, before turning back to Coltyn. “Well, I don’t know but it seems to me like you should just walk away now.” His hand on my side felt warm, and I tried not to linger on just how nice it was, especially since Coltyn was currently glaring nastily at me. This could end badly...

He sneered. “Sorry, I didn’t know you liked his type,” he spat at me. I swear I heard him add, under his breath, ’slut’, but I couldn’t hear much at this point — the music was too loud and I was feeling too drowsy to pay attention properly.

But apparently Gerard heard it, though, because suddenly he dropped his arm from around my waist and took a step forward. “Excuse me? What did you call her?” He asked, through clenched teeth. It was actually kind of scary.

“I called her a slut.” I saw Coltyn draw back his fist, but it was a few seconds too late. Before my mind could form words, in my inebriated state, to warn Gerard, there was the sickening sound of a fist meeting flesh. Gerard recoiled backwards, clutching the side of his head. It wasn’t a hard hit — pretty weak, actually, since Coltyn had been drinking quite heavily — but it was enough to send Gerard reeling.

“Jesus,” I muttered, suddenly a lot more clear-headed, as I saw Zacky and Ray leap forward and pull Coltyn away, yelling angrily. I ignored the commotion it had all caused, turning to Gerard. “Are you... are you okay?” I asked. I was concerned, and unable to see what had happened properly because he had his hand in the way. He nodded, slowly, wincing. I took a few deep breaths to clear my head a bit more, realizing now was a bit more serious and wasn’t the time to be pleasantly buzzed like I was. “You should probably lay down or something,” I added, as Liza appeared at my side. She agreed and I put a hand on Gerard’s arm to steady him — it probably wasn’t the most helpful thing to do, though, since I was still gently swaying myself. Liza led us upstairs and pointed to a bunk.

“That’s mine, you can use it,” she said, before turning and disappearing back downstairs again. No doubt to go make sure it had all been dealt with. I made Gerard lie down, despite his protests that he was fine.

“You may be fine now but you still need to lie down,” I said, taking a seat next to him and pushing back the hair from around the area he’d been hit. I winced. There was a nice bruise forming already, a burgeoning purple-black colour spreading across the skin. “You could have concussion or something.”

He had closed his eyes, but now he opened one slightly and peaked up at me. “What are you, my mother?” He snickered lightly, laying his head down on the pillow and letting out a little groan. “Ugh. It hurts.”

“It will do,” I said with a roll of my eyes. I was surprised at how easy it was to focus more now. My brain was still sluggish but not so much so. “Thanks for, um, rescuing me, Gee.”

He laughed. “No problem. Next time, may I suggest you choose someone like Ray? He can hold his own in a fight.”

I smiled weakly. “I’m sorry,” I said genuinely, feeling quite bad I’d got my friend injured. Then, remembering that I was meant to be looking after him, I straightened up. “Are you feeling sick at all? Got a headache? Double vision?”

“... what is this, twenty questions?” He mumbled in response, apparently reluctant to move because he didn’t, at all. “And the answer is no, yes, and no. My head hurts like fuck but that’s about it.”

“Well... you’re gonna have a lovely bruise if nothing else,” I noted. “Hmm... at least you can brag to your friends you’re hardcore now.”

“Don’t quote me,” he said, still in a mumble, now holding up a finger warningly. “And they already know just how damn hardcore I am anyway. I fucking embody hardcore.” I giggled, grabbing a pillow from the end of the bunk and making him sit up enough I could slide it under his head.

“You need to stay awake,” I explained. Then I furrowed my brow, thinking about it. “At least, I think... it’s been a while since I did anything to do with first aid...”

“You do know how to inspire confidence, Cam.”

Liza appeared again a few minutes later, followed by Frank and Bob, and Frank passed me something cold wrapped in a tea towel. I unravelled it quickly, and raised an eyebrow when I realized it was a packet of peas, then quickly wrapped it up again and pressed it to Gerard’s head. “Hold that there,” I instructed him, getting to my feet. I noticed the worry on everyone’s faces and I smiled. “Don’t worry... it’s only a little knock. He’ll be fine. Probably.”

“It doesn’t feel like a little knock,” Gerard complained from the bunk, but we all ignored him.

“What about tonight?” Bob asked. “You know, the show.”

“Oh. I… ” I broke off and looked at Gerard, then turned back to both of them. “I’m not sure whether he should—”

“I’m doing it! Don’t listen to her, guys, I’ll be fine.” Gerard glared at me through one open eye, moving to sit up properly but promptly lying back down again. “Ahhhh, dizziness. Fuck me.”

Frank flopped down on the bunk next to him and threw his arms around the singer, narrowly missing hitting him in the head again. “Aww, you got hurt,” he cooed in what I was sure the most patronising voice he could muster with a straight face. He pouted, fluttering his eyelashes exaggeratedly, and I giggled again. “Do you need me to kiss it better?”

“Dude, seriously. Are you really twenty-six?” Gerard asked, shoving him away with force. Frank rolled back off to his feet smoothly. He leaned down and quickly planted a sloppy kiss on the singer’s forehead, and my giggles intensified — especially at Gerard’s expression, and when he hit the rhythm guitarist around the head. “Go away, you idiot!”

“Hey, don’t deny our love, Gee,” Frank said, stepping back to stand next to me again and crossing his arms. “You know it’s the real thing.”

“Does Jamia know you love me?” Gerard asked, again attempting to sit up but slower this time. He succeeded, but had to sit for several seconds with his head in his hands before he got to his feet. When he swayed I quickly grabbed his arm to help him stay up, and he shot me an embarrassed smile.

“It’s okay. She likes it. You gotta admit, we’d make a hot couple.” Frank grinned brilliantly, looping an arm around Bob’s shoulders and ignoring the glare the drummer gave him. “Anyway, come on guys, let’s go back to our tour bus. I think we’ve had enough fun at this party tonight.”

“If you mean by had enough fun that you’ve already got drunk enough to try to start a game of strip poker — despite not playing even knowing how to play poker yourself — then yes, we’ve had enough fun,” Bob grumbled, elbowing the guitarist sharply and making him take a step away. I looked at Frank — he didn’t seem that drunk. But then again, I had been pretty buzzed a few minutes earlier and the whole punching-incident had sobered me up quickly. I guess worry did that to me.

I nodded. “It’s probably best. How long until your set?”

Frank glanced down at his wrist, then realized he didn’t actually have a watch on. I fought the urge to call him out on that stupidity as he drew his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Just under two hours. It’s half past eight now and we have to be there... what, ten minutes beforehand?” He asked the assembled group, sliding his phone away again.

Gerard nodded, and then winced again. “Twenty minutes if Brian is being extra anal that day.”

I noticed Frank’s lips quirk into a smirk at the singer’s choice of words, and sent him a warning look. “Fine. You, Gerard, you’re gonna lie down for an hour. Bob, take his other arm,” I said.

“I can walk,” he complained to me, but as he tried to take a few steps forward he wobbled dangerously.

“Oh really?” I asked in a ’I-don’t-believe-you’ voice, raising an eyebrow and returning my hand to his arm. He muttered something under his breath which I didn’t catch, but I’m sure it wasn’t very nice. Between Bob and I we helped Gerard downstairs, and then through the party — where several people came up and asked if he was okay, and Liza apologized profusely despite his protests — and outside. It was cold, and as I stepped out I was glad I had remembered to keep my hoodie on. Gerard a little worse off, but at least his shirt was long-sleeved. I let Bob lead the way, still unsure of the way to their bus from here, and at the sound of a shout I glanced back to see Alex and the other members of the band a few feet behind us, rounded up by Frank on my instructions.

Mikey jogged forward when we paused, waiting for them to catch up. He looked worried. “Is he okay?” he asked me, looking at Gerard.

Once more the singer glared. “I can talk, too!”

I laughed once more, especially when Mikey grinned and said, “Oh, I see he’s the same as always.”

From then on Mikey took over my role of helping his brother, and I fell back to walk next to Alex and Frank. She looked extremely happy, grinning from ear to ear. “Why are you making that manic expression?” I asked her.

“What, is it a crime to be happy?” she replied. Not for most people, I thought, but for Alex it was certainly something. “But the reason is this...” she trailed off, and held her phone up. I peered closely at the screen, wondering what she was trying to show me, and then realized it was open on the contacts screen and that the name ’Zacky’ was highlighted.

“Wow... huh, you move fast,” I said, impressed. “Good one.”

She blushed. “He asked me.”

“Sure he did,” I said, as everyone stopped and I realized we had arrived outside the black bus I remembered from yesterday. I wondered whether Alex and I should disappear, but before I could do anything about Frank grabbed my sleeve and hauled me on-board after him. I half-tripped on the stairs, almost falling flat on the carpet. I would have if it wasn’t for Alex throwing out an arm and stopping me.

“Not funny,” I muttered sullenly at the sound of laughter, mostly from Frank. I straightened myself out and looked around at the bunch of people gathered in the room, and noticed the tiredness which was showing on everyone’s faces. “Okay, guys, I think we need some strong sobering and energizing coffee here, stat.” I turned to Alex, but she backed away, holding her palms up.

“Don’t look at me!” she said, shaking her head.

I sighed. “Fine, I’ll make it then.” I walked through to the kitchen, ordering Alex to get what everyone wanted, and checked how much coffee there was still in the pot before putting more water on. Then, waiting for it to boil, I was surprised to feel my phone vibrating. I didn’t even realize I still had it in my pocket. I dug it out and unlocked it, and ’1 new message from Gerard’ flashed up on the screen.

I narrowed my eyes as I opened it.

save me! mikey is obsessing. i think he thinks i’m dying or something. it’s getting on my nerves

I typed out a quick reply and hit send.

find your own way out... and get some rest!

THen I turned and grabbed mugs out of the cupboard, trying to remember just how many people needed coffee. As I poured the water into the cups, my phone vibrated again, and I narrowly avoided pouring the boiling liquid all over my hands.

don’t wanna

Short and sweet. I made sure my reply was, too.

do it, dammit!

I finished making all the coffees and shuttled them through to the others with help from Alex, taking a long sip of my own, and enjoying the placebo energy-boost effect it gave me, already a lot more awake even with just one sip. Mikey, back in the lounge now with the others, informed me he had managed to get Gerard to go to his bunk, but I was sure he wasn’t resting (especially since I had received a few more texts from him) and I confirmed this fact by going to check on him once I’d finished my coffee. I found him sitting up, his laptop open and on the mattress in front of him.

“What happened to getting some rest?” I asked, trying to sound cross and failing. I sat down on the other edge of the bunk, unable to sit back properly because of the small space. He looked up from the laptop and grinned.

“I’m fine,” he said, moving back to I could bring my legs up and sit cross-legged like him. “Are you gonna mother me like Mikey all evening?”

“No. I’m just concerned. You can’t afford to lose another braincell, and the way you’re heading...”

“How sweet.”

“Aren’t I always?” I replied, tilting my head to the side slightly and looking at him. “You know, you could press charges against Coltyn for the whole... incident.”

“You mean the whole ’me-getting-my-ass-kicked’?” He said, looking amused. “Nah, it’s not worth the trouble. People do stupid shit when they’re drunk... I should know. You don’t think clearly.” He glanced down at the laptop, typed a few words and then looked back up at me again.

“Fair enough.” I didn’t really agree — honestly, I wanted to go back to hit Coltyn just to see the look on his face. But I wasn’t going to argue about it, mostly because I knew it would just cause trouble. Instead, I turned my attention to what he was doing and what was so interesting about the laptop. I leaned forward, but the fact that I was facing the back of the laptop made it kind of hard to see what was going on. “What you doing, when you’re meant to be resting, then?” I asked, as he tilted the screen back a little further for me.

“Answering comments.”

“What?” I recognized the blog I’d set up on the screen now, and I scrambled off the bunk to have a better look from his point of view. He was indeed on the comment page for the interview post, and I saw that he had a reply box open. “... huh?”

“I have an account, now,” he explained, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “Kind of begged Brian for it, because he had to set it all up so they can’t message me and blah blah blah. Basically had a whole bitch fit about how much work it was.”

“So, what, you’re replying to comments on the blog as yourself?” He nodded and grinned brilliantly. “Oh dear god, you’ll give your fans heart attacks.” I leaned over his shoulder to look at the comments so far. I hadn’t even checked myself, although I was surprised at the popularity of the blog. Already the first post had several hundred comments, even more on the second and third posts which contained a bit more than just my rambling introduction. I smiled, pointing at one comment.

JETblack
2008-04-07 07:06 am UTC
OMG! Freakin’ awesome. I love the picture of Ray and the guitar! Totally bummed I couldn’t afford tickets to any of the dates near me: sounds like you’re having a lot of fun already! Hey, Cam, tell Gerard he’s amazing when you next see him. x Love, your biggest fan (aka CeCe).

I turned away from the screen to look at Gerard. “Well then. Apparently I have to tell you that you’re amazing. A girl called CeCe says so,” I said, then I paused, as if thinking about it for a few seconds. “You know, I didn’t know that about you. Did you?”

He laughed in response, shifting over in the bunk to the edge against the wall and patting the spot beside him. “Sit here. It’s more comfortable than craning your neck like that,” he said, looking up at me expectantly. I hesitated for a few seconds, then shrugged and sat down again next to him, swinging my legs up and stretching them out along the length of it. Because of the lack of room I had trouble finding a place to put my arm where I wasn’t elbowing him, and eventually settled for crossing it across my stomach.

“This is probably the most awkward place to sit ever,” I said with a sigh, once I’d finished moving around and settled in one reasonably comfortable position. I was still trying not to lose my balance and fall off the narrow space into the aisle, because that would be seriously embarrassing. “These really weren’t designed for two people, were they?”

“I don’t think they were even designed for one,” he replied, moving the laptop to balance it between our touching legs. I put a hand on the side to make sure it didn’t take a tumble either, noting how expensive it looked — something I hadn’t paid attention to last time I’d used it. Honestly, I would have never let someone borrow something this nice, even if I was there with them. But I was a selfish like that, especially with possessions I couldn’t afford to replace. No doubt Gerard didn’t have that problem.

“So how do they actually know it’s you?” I asked. “Because, anyone can say they’re Gerard Way, right?”

“Oh, I know. Did you know there’s about a hundred of me on Facebook? I checked one day because I was bored. God knows how many there are on the internet altogether.” He smiled, then clicked on the ’profile’ button in the corner of the screen. Then he pointed at a picture and I burst out laughing. It was certainly him, grinning in his normal fashion with his eyes screwed up, with a piece of paper in his hands reading ’THE ONE AND ONLY MOTHERFUCKERS’ and his username scrawled under it. I don’t know why, but it was insanely funny to me. “That’s how, see?”

“Aww, you look so cute,” I cooed, reaching out a hand and ruffling his hair in the most annoying way possible. His grin disappeared and he glared at me.

“Hey now, cute is so totally not the right word.”

I pretended to study the picture a little bit more, then drew back and nodded. “Hmm, you’re right. I guess goofy fits better.”

“Are you just here to insult me?”

“Cute is not an insult!”

“Maybe not for you.”

“Fine. You’re damn sexy. Happy?”

He did seem pretty satisfied with that, despite my sarcasm, because he nodded and turned his full attention back to the laptop and started typing again. I watched him answer some of the comments for a few minutes, then hijacked the laptop to refresh the page. “Holy...” I muttered, noticing how many comments had been added since he started replying to them. “Look at that. Word seriously does spread fast.”

“I know. It’s pretty cool.”

I nodded slowly, letting him take the laptop back again and sitting back properly and resting my head against the faux-wood of the end of the bunk. It was more comfortable than mine, and I slightly resented the fact that everything was better in the band buses — even in the shared one which SAYF had been given the whole interior was bigger and nicer. Still, they were the ones bringing in the cash, I supposed.

After we both got bored of finding amusing comments and laughing about the reactions to the fans which got their ones replied to, I checked my phone and realized we’d managed to spend an hour on that alone. In fact, I wondered whether the time was wrong, but the little clock in the corner of the laptop’s screen told me that it was indeed already almost ten. As if on cue I heard Frank, downstairs, yelling for Gerard to get his ass down there too, and something about Brian and a guy named Calvin. I could here the sound of conversation going on in the lounge, but I couldn’t hear much more than a few words here and there. I did pick up on the story of the party being told as I got to my feet, waiting for Gerard to do the same thing, and then led the way down the narrow aisle to the stairs and down into the lower level.

I noticed that Alex was asleep, lying on the couch, and raised my eyebrows at the site. She was sprawled out, one arm brushing the floor and the other hooked around Bob - who looked only mildly put out - sitting in the small amount of space she’d left. She’d obviously kicked her boots off at some point, since one was near the front end of the bus and the other was nowhere to be seen.

“Come on, Gee, aren’t you ready yet?” Ray asked, as the singer in question started looking around for something.

“Almost. I need my other shoe,” he replied, and I looked down to see that he was indeed only wearing one of his shoes. I shook my head whilst Frank laughed, apparently finding this quite funny, and I wondered at what point he’d even taken them off.

“I found it!” Frank said after a few more minutes of frantic searching. He held up the shoe and then, when Gerard looked up, threw it in his direction. Gerard tried to catch it but missed by miles, and the shoe went flying past him. He grumbled, flipping Frank off and walking over to scoop it up.

“You’re not very good at catching, are you?” I asked, amused, remembering all the other times I’d seen him miss things thrown at him.

“I’m not. That’s why these dicks always throw things.” Gerard glared at Frank and sat down on the couch’s armrest to pull the shoe on as the others all got ready themselves. I checked I had both my shoes on myself, then went and crouched by my sister’s side and put a hand on her shoulder to shake her awake.

“Nrgh...” was Alex’s only response, and, besides from raising a hand and half-heartedly swatting at me, she made no other move despite my shaking. She didn’t even react when Bob got to his feet, moving her arm and setting it gently on her stomach as he did so. I frowned, flicking her nose and finally getting a response in the form of a whine. “Fuck off and lemme sleep,” she mumbled groggily, her eyes not open even a crack. “I don’t need you in my life. Not when I’ve got my pygmy goats.”

I was amused at the anger she was directing at me. “Alex. Wake up. You can’t stay here all night. And anyway, don’t you want to go see MCR’s set?”

She rolled over to face away from me, pressing her nose into the cushions. “’nother time.”

I sighed and gave up on trying to wake my obviously reluctant sister. As I straightened up I looked around the room to see everyone else was ready. “Eh. Let’s just leave her here,” I said, noticing for the first time there was another guy I didn’t recognize standing in the bus besides Brian. “Who’re you?” I asked. He was short, slightly more than Frank, and had dark blonde hair. He must have been older than anyone by a decade or so, but he looked like he was entirely unaware of that fact.

“Calvin Rogers,” he said, stepping forward to shake my hand. “I’m a tour manager for a few of the bands, including My Chemical Romance here.”

“Ah. Okay.” I smiled at him politely, unsure whether or not I was required to introduce myself in return. I was saved from this potentially awkward moment by Gerard’s announcement that he was ready, and so the eight of us piled out of the bus and into the cold. I immediately huddled inside my hoodie, but I saw Frank, ever wise, start shivering in his choice of short-sleeves. We all made our way over to the backstage area of the headlining stage, a place which was basically just two tents which had been erected behind a fence. I could see the crowds waiting, lit up by the bright floodlights which were dotted around the area, and hear the last act just finishing as we walked past.

The guys were instantly whisked away to get ready, and I was left standing there. I was just beginning to wonder about whether I should try and find myself a spot to watch from when Liza came up behind me and scared me half to death by putting a hand on my shoulder. After I’d told her off, rather strongly, she grinned and asked if I wanted to join Hello, Irony to watch. When I followed her through to any area which had a good view of the stage but was still far enough from the crowds to not draw attention, I found out it was not just Hello, Irony there, but also four other people. Two dark-skinned girls, one with awesome-looking black and red dreads pulled up into a wild, messy bun, and blonde girl with a blue streaked fringe and pink lipstick... and the only other person I recognized — a certain green-haired guitarist.

“Finley!” I said, excitedly, hugging him tightly. He hugged me back just as fiercely, beaming.

“Look, I’ve made friends!” He said excitedly, turning and pointing at the dreaded girl. “That’s Juilette, she's a singer, and that’s her half-sister Miri who’s also a keyboard-person.. oh and Sam, she’s a guitarist.” He dropped his hand, which had been pointing at the blonde and blue haired girl, and turned back to me. “Where have you been? Alex said something about a party.”

“Oh, yeah, it was on Hello, Irony’s bus. Gerard got punched.”

Finley’s eyes widened. “What? When?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I said quickly. “Let’s just enjoy the show first.”

~*~

I told Finley – and Juilette, Miri and Sam – the full story later, and drew quite concerned reactions. I’m sure a few fans did point out Gerard’s new and obvious bruise, but it was hard to see or hear anything going on in the crowd, especially with the pyrotechnics and lights distracting everyone. Despite what had happened, Gerard sang well, and I’d decided that I definitely liked watching the group perform together — even if it was only my second time seeing them. I suppose it was too early to call myself a fan, but I was certainly swayed in their favour. Especially at the little between shows banter, including Gerard’s saying “Alright, guys, this is our last song...” met with a lot of groans from the crowd, and then grinning and adding “... off of our new album!”

After they’d finished the encore, we all grouped back together. As they trooped off stage, Liza ran over and jumped in Frank’s arms, gleefully, as Finley had dared her to earlier. Unfortunately, Frank wasn’t ready for the distinctly taller, orange-haired singer to come hurtling at him and together they both fell over backwards, onto the frost-covered ground. I think the look of shock on the guitarist’s face was totally worth the bitching Liza did for ages afterwards about getting dirt on her jeans.

Mikey disappeared a few minutes into our little reunion, apparently off to meet Alicia according to his brother. After that Frank spent several more minutes whining about missing Jamia himself, until, tired, I pointed out he did have a mobile, which, strangely enough, could call people. Surprise, surprise. So then he darted off himself to call her, grinning, leaving our group reduced to twelve people — although, for the most part, Sam, Miri, Juilette and Taylor — Hello, Irony’s bass guitarist, who I hadn’t spoken to much except to exchange a few friendly words and to mention that his blonde hair with red tips was awesome — were a group on their own.

The rest of us decided to go back to a tourbus, although which one caused a small argument. What was left of MCR all voted to go back to theirs, both Finley and I shrugged, and the three other Hello, Irony members wanted to go to theirs (Taylor and his group had walked off a short while ago, mumbling something about food.) Eventually I sighed.

“Make your minds up, guys, I’m cold,” I complained. “And I’ve got a huge headache coming on. Bloody alcohol.”

Bob nodded in agreement. “I’m going back to my bunk and sleeping. It’s getting late.”

“It’s not late! It’s still early,” Gerard said, looking confused. “It’s only, like... midnight?”

“Not late for those who don’t have work tomorrow, you mean,” I said. “Let’s just go back to your bus. I need to check on Alex anyway. God knows leaving her alone with your stuff isn’t a good idea — your possessions are gonna end up on eBay tomorrow, I can tell you that.”

After we convinced Liza, Zacky and Davey that MCR had a playstation and games, and thus were a better choice, we all walked back together. I stayed close to Finley, talking quietly, but as soon as we walked onto the bus he left my side, bounded over to Alex, still sleeping on the couch, and tried to shake her awake. “Wakey wakey, Ally!” He yelled, in probably the most high-pitched and obnoxious tone I’d heard for a while. Except perhaps from Frank. “It’s time to get up now! Come on! Uppity up!”

She did sit up, eventually, after hitting him several times. “Don’t call me that,” she mumbled, groggily, running a hand through her now messed up red and black hair, and then glancing around at her surroundings. “What the... did I fall asleep?”

Ray looked amused. “You were totally out of it. Cameron tried to wake you up but you didn’t even move. Said something about pygmy goats, though.”

Now Alex looked mortified, glaring at me as she got to her feet. I knew why. She didn’t like being the source of amusement for anyone, let alone a couple of people she wanted to appear cool in front of. I’d get bitched at soon enough, no doubt, but for now I just shot her a sweet smile and went with Gerard to grab things to snack on from the kitchenette — nobody had eaten yet, but the general consensus was that everyone was too lazy to do anything about it, and that catering would probably be closed by now anyway.

We returned, with arms full of various snacks, to find the others had already organized themselves quite neatly — Bob had disappeared, apparently to sleep like he’d said before, Ray and Alex were on the seats, playstation controls in their hands, and Finley was next to them, watching and grinning broadly. Liza, Davey and Zacky were sat in a group on the floor, all cross-legged.

“They’re gonna do a duel!” Finley explained excitedly, at my curious glance.

“A duel of what, exactly?” I asked as I put the snacks I had on the table.

“A duel of what? A duel of power, of wits, skill, determination...” he began, but Alex cut across him.

“Racing GE 2006,” she said, not even looking up from the TV screen, which was now showing the opening screen for the game. I smiled, picking out a packet of ready salted crisps and sitting down next to Alex on the armrest of the couch.

“Fair enough. Alex, beat his sorry ass, dammit.”

Alex nodded, determinedly.

Liza patted the spot next to her on the floor. “Gerard, sit here. And pass the cookies!”

He did just that, picking up the two packets of cookies and handing them to Liza, and then taking a seat with the trio on the floor, resting his back against the couch. I moved my legs to hang over the side so he could, and Finley shifted on the couch so I was left half on the armrest, half not. It was surprisingly comfortable, especially when I laid my head on Finley’s shoulder to watch the game going on.

After quite an epic race, Alex lost, although only by a few seconds, and, displeased with this result, I glared at Ray. “Give me the controller!” I demanded to my sister. She hesitated, and then passed it over. “You know what they say...”

“If you want a job done, do it yourself?” Finely offered.

I laughed, hitting a few buttons and trying to get a hang of the controller and what did what. “No, no. Girls rule, boys drool.”

“So says you,” Ray said, rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers. “You’re still going down.”

Gerard chuckled. “Ooh, fighting talk!” He said, happily, taking a bite of a cookie he’d stolen from Liza — who was currently giving him evils for that very act, and clutching the remaining cookies in a death-grip.

“Shut up. I’m gonna beat you next,” the guitarist shot back, as the cars lined up on the line and the countdown to the start began. I leaned forward, moving around so I was facing the screen properly, ready to go. When the lights did finally flash green, I jammed my finger down on the button I’d worked out was the accelerator, and my car shot forward. Ray’s soon followed, but I already had the advantage as I hit the first corner. Unfortunately, I ruined this by over-judging the angle and sending my virtual car into a spin.

“Oh fuck!” I yelled, as Ray’s car overtook my out of control one. I recovered quickly, trying to and gaining back the lost ground with a feverish determination, whilst Finley and Zacky cheered us both on. “Hey, watch it Toro!” I snapped, when his car smashed into mine. I returned the action, shoving his right off the track, and shot him an evil grin as we both raced into the second and last lap.

When I won several short minutes later, Ray threw down his controller, and pointed a finger at me accusingly. “Cheat!” He said, glaring at me. “There’s no way you could have done that! Girls can’t be good at video games! It’s not fair!”

I laughed, exhilarated by my victory. “You’re just a sore loser!” I said, tauntingly.

“Ray’s got a point, Cam. Girls can’t be hot and good at video games,” Davey said. Liza hit him for that comment, and he smirked. “Only kidding, sweetie. You’re hotter than anyone,” he added, using the arm he had around the singer to pull her against him and nuzzle her neck. She didn’t seem mad, judging by the fact she twisted around to kiss him rather passionately.

Gerard wrinkled his nose up, shifting away from the couple. “Get a room,” he complained.

Everyone else either completely blanked the kiss, or decided not to comment — although I saw Alex’s eyes widen ever so slightly. I forgot that basically nobody knew they were a couple. Then Finley jumped to his feet, and I realized why a few seconds later when I saw him open the door of the bus and yell “Fraaaaank!” loudly, then launch himself at the rhythm guitarist — who, this time, was ready for it and neatly sidestepped. I heard a surprised squeak, out of range of my vision, and giggled. Apparently Finley hadn’t expected that.

When the two eventually climbed on-board the bus and shut the door — thank god, because the heater apparently wasn’t good enough to heat the whole outside as well as the bus and it was getting cold — I waved at Frank. “Heya,” I said, as everyone else said their greetings as well to the dark-haired man. He was too distracted to reply, his eyes now fixed on the great heaps of snacks on the table and a great big grin on his face. Taking the chance whilst he had it, and Finley was still standing near the door, Gerard got up off the floor and stole Finley’s vacated spot next to me, a corner of his lips twisted up wickedly. His smirk only grew when Finley frowned at him, then harrumphed and sat down with a thud next to Zacky.

Frank wasted no more time getting his hands on the snacks which had caught his eye, swooping in and grabbing the remaining cookies off Liza, the crisps out of Ray’s lap, and a Pepsi off the table. Then, holding his newly gained treats close to his chest, he slid into a seat at the table, giggling — I wasn’t sure whether I was meant to roll my eyes at this display of childishness, or join in, but Gerard’s eyebrows were threatening to disappear into his hairline.

“Do you even have a single mature bone in your body?” He asked the still giggling man.

“Fuck no!” Frank replied, stuffing some crisps in his mouth. I grimaced at the site of him talking with his mouth full. “You should know that by now, Gee. Since we lived together an’ all.”

Gerard just shook his head, sadly. “I know, I should. God knows why I’ve put up with it for so long.”

After a few more seconds of Frank’s insane giggling, I turned my attention back to the screen. “Hey, Gee, you any good at racing games?” I asked, curious now. “Because I need someone to race against since Ray is still sulking.” I motioned at the guitarist sitting on the other side of Gerard, who was currently glaring at Frank for stealing all the crisps. At my words the black-haired singer’s eyes lit up.

“Any good? Please, I was born great at video games,” he replied quickly, taking the controller off Ray — who gave it up quite happily, getting up and walking over to the stairs to the upper levels (but not before he stopped to steal a couple of packets of crisps off Frank, who complained loudly through a mouthful but apparently couldn’t be bothered to get up and chase him down because he let Ray go.)

I snorted. “Yeah right.”

“It was more the teenage and young adult years of being holed up in the basement with no female contact, actually,” added Davey helpfully, who’d broken away long enough from Liza to grin at the dark look Gerard shot him.

“He had female contact,” Frank said, shaking his head but not pausing in stuffing the food in his mouth. When he spoke he sprayed crumbs everywhere and I sighed, tiredly. “His mother brought his laundry down sometimes. Remember?”

“You guys suck,” Gerard said, frowning, as I set up the race and we waited for the lights to turn green.

“Yeah, well, you’re lying anyway. You’re shit at most games — no patience. Still, it’s okay honeybunches... we love you anyway,” Frank said in response, proceeding to run over and throw his arms around the singer. I’m sure it wasn’t accidental that his arms covered his eyes. Gerard put up a valiant fight to the embrace, catching Frank around the side of his face with a fist, and eventually struggled away, but by time he’d gotten out of the guitarist’s grip he had missed the start of the race by quite a bit and he glared, hotly, at the other man, showing his annoyance clearly.

“Fuck you, Iero,” he snapped, turning to fix his gaze onto the game and trying to catch up with my car. I was giggling, trying not to lose concentration myself.

“Wouldn’t you just like that,” Frank replied smartly, bounding over and sitting down next to Finley. He hooked an arm around the green-haired guitarist’s waist and pulled him to his side. “So, Fin, right? You looking for a partner-in-crime? I think Gerard’s gonna get revenge on me soon, probably in the form of a lame prank, and I need someone to help me gang up on him. I think we should strike first.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Finley grin wickedly. “Am I ever! I fucking love pranks.”

If I hadn’t been occupied by the game, I would have groaned in horror. Finley and pranks didn’t bode well for anyone at all, because the teenager got extremely inventive — and determined. A couple of times a full on prank war had been declared between the members of SAYF, and before I’d learned not to get involved, I’d been the subject of quite an amount of Finley’s pranks. It never ended well.

Gerard didn’t know this, though, and just chuckled. “You two morons won’t get me,” he said, sending his car flying around a corner... and into a wall. I started laughing at his misfortune as my car sped across the line, and then tossed my controller away and jumped to my feet, cheering.

“Suck on that, Way!” I yelled, bouncing up and down on my heels with glee.

Gerard groaned. “Shut up. Frank distracted me!” He complained, throwing his controller down too and resting his head against the back of the couch. “I can’t believe I lost to you,” he added in a quiet voice — almost a mumble — but I picked up on it anyway and my grin grew slightly.

“You betcha you did!”

“And just you wait,” Finley warned him. “Cameron will not let you forget that. Ever.”