Collision

A day later, we were in Swansea, and I was trying to get ready in record speed. It was a day off, but SAYF didn’t seem to understand this concept, and neither did Mallory. They’d been roped into doing an acoustic set for an exclusive meet and greet, as part of some radio’s competition.

“Hurry up, Cam!” Finley grabbed the sleeve of my hoodie as he whizzed past, tugging me with him. In his other hand he carried one of his precious guitars in a case which was decorated in ten years’ worth of barely-legible stickers.

I tried not to trip over my own feet as I sped up to keep up with his hurried pace, still trying – in vain – to brush my hair.

At least I wasn’t the only one who was being pushed around. I looked over at the waiting cars where a small group of sleepy and annoyed musicians had gathered. This included Ray, who was looking mildly pissed off, and Liza, who had buried herself in a scarf and a hoodie and gloves and earmuffs and looked positively pink with happiness. It turned out she was so happy because she also had Cobain in her hoodie with her – Jagger, apparently, was too busy sleeping. Even though I was sure Gwen had gone home, the kittens were still around. I wasn’t going to complain. Kittens made any day better.

I was on photographer duty, even though I barely knew how to work the fancy camera I’d been given (even after a crash course in it by a lovely girl called Corrine) and despite the fact I was sure the radio company would be filming the sets. Either way, I was a little bit put out that I had to get out of my warm, comfy bed to come along – especially since Jack didn’t have to, since, in his words, “What the fuck would I drum on? Bongos?” – but I was excited nonetheless.

There were three cars for three bands, but somehow everybody still managed to swap between them. I ended up in a car with Liza, and her kitten – who had a seat himself which I was totally okay with.

“Hey cutepie,” I cooed at the black kitten, stroking him softly with a fingertip. He mewed at me, which I took to mean ‘Hell yes, I’m cute.’ This was the best job ever, I decided.

Finley was watching this with amusement on his face. “Who’d have known you do have a maternal side to you,” he said. “But only for kittens.”

“Me?” I pointed a thumb at my own chest, faking shock. “I’m a motherfucking mother hen, and you know it.”

“Language!” Liza hissed, covering little Cobain’s ears. He bit her in response, which I thought was hilarious.

We arrived at the radio station in question, and I was surprised at the fact there was a large group of people gathered outside. “Are they all here for you lot?” I mouthed at Liza, who grinned proudly and nodded.

There was a scattering of cheers when the cars pulled up, and a lot more cheers and shrieks when the band members all piled out, shielded by the radio’s security. Alex looked shocked. Finley looked ecstatic. He immediately ducked around the security guards and began to offer hugs to everyone he could reach. I watched amused as he also took the offer of a piggyback ride from a random guy, which I captured on film – including when he fell off with a shriek of alarm. There were more than a few SAYF t-shirts and beanies in the crowd. I wondered how many were ones I’d sold myself.

Eventually, the group made it inside, although it took about four times longer than it should have due to stopping for pictures and autographs. I immediately went to find coffee whilst the staff descended on the bands to take them where they were to go.

I returned to the group with three full cup holders of coffee, which I’d precariously balanced in the crook of my arms. Frank immediately snatched one from me, almost sending the rest tumbling, and kissed me on the forehead in what I assumed was his version of gratitude as he handed them out to the waiting band members. There was only half of Hello, Irony there (Liza and Zacky), almost all of SAYF (minus Jack), and all of MCR, although I think Bob was mostly there for the free food, which was where he’d immediately headed.

Once I’d unloaded the rest of the coffee, I tried to ambush Bob with the camera, but I got a piece of baguette chucked at my head in return and I decided it wasn’t worth it.

Frank was sat in Finley’s lap when I returned, tuning his guitar. He looked entirely comfortable. I took a picture and then a seat next to them on the overstuffed couch, grabbing a pillow to rest my weary head on. “You’re really fuelling the rumours of hot gay sex on this tour,” I said.

“Rumours?” Frank looked shocked as he turned to me. “This is more than just rumours. This is true love.”

Finley looked like the happiest person in the world, grinning widely. Frank twisted around enough to ruffle his lime green hair, still carefully cradling his acoustic guitar.

Gerard, who had just walked up, huffed. “I feel replaced,” he said, sipping from his coffee. “He used to ruffle my hair.”

Alex glanced over, looking as if she was about to say something, and I gave her the look I’d perfected throughout this tour. Instead, she pulled a face at me behind his back. She knew there was something going on between us, because over the past day I’d managed to avoid being in the same room as Gerard for any extended period, and when he talked to me I normally gave one word answers.

Luckily at that very moment, one of the radio staff appeared, walkie-talkie in hand. “Can all the members of Susie Ain’t Your Friend follow me please?” she asked. I got up as did Alex, Red and Finley, although only after Frank had given him an overly sloppy kiss on the cheek for good luck, and began to follow them through to a second room.

It was crowded to the brim with people, and there was a small stage at the front – although really, calling it a stage was a stretch. It was simply five stools and monitors which acted as a barrier to the waiting fans. A few of the more confident fans were sitting next to the stools, as if they hadn’t noticed this was where the band was meant to go. Finley and Red choose their seats on either side of Alex, and I took my place to the side, camera at the ready.

It was only when I happened to glance to the side that I noticed that Gerard had followed us, and he was grinning at me, still wearing an oversized hoodie and sunglasses so I doubted anyone had recognised him yet. I shook my head, but said nothing. I was still trying to avoid talking to him for longer than absolutely necessary in case he brought up our kiss.

They played the old version of Watchmen for their first song, which I enjoyed immensely. The new one sounded fabulous of course, but Watchmen had been the very first song I’d heard them perform and it held a special place in my heart. I noticed there were cameramen filming the session, and even a few camera phones out to record the special occasion. Damn, I felt proud of my babies.

It was the fourth song in when Alex turned to me with a winning smile. “I’d like to dedicate this song to my big sister, who has been the worst overbearing little shit ever during this tour, and makes me feel like I never left home in the first place. I love you, Cam, and this is for your ex. Will Mortimer, if you hear this – I hope you choke on your tiny, shrivelled dick!”

I laughed hard when they began to play a slowed down version of You’re Goin’ Down, which happened to be my favourite break-up song ever. There were a few cheerful whoops but otherwise the crowd was watching with silent, rapt attention, providing applause and chatting only in the breaks between songs.

I felt a warm hand on my arm, and looked at Gerard. “Remind me not to piss off Alex,” he said, as Alex sang about shooting Will between the eyes. The song itself hadn’t been written about Will, but it definitely fitted my ex. “She writes vicious lyrics.”

I nodded in agreement, and noticed that the rest of MCR had joined in watching the set from the very back. I gave them a smile as SAYF finished their set. There were a few sad mutters in response from the crowd as Alex bowed and they left the stage.

“Alright guys, wasn’t that something special?” A young, tattooed woman had taken to the stage, and I assumed quickly that she must have been one of the radio station hosts. “And next we’ve got another treat for you! We’ve also got the talented MCR in to do an acoustic set, which is something they’d NEVER done before! Give them a warm welcome!”

I blew a kiss at the guys as they walked past me, and Frank returned the love by giving me a fierce hug before bounding off to take his place.

“I’d like to start by saying, I’m absolutely terrified right now guys,” Gerard said. He’d discarded his hoodie and I realised he was wearing a white shirt and black suit vest underneath, which he made look stupidly good, but he still had his precious cup of coffee on the ground at his feet. “Like, seriously. Be kind to us.”

There was a scattering of laughter and cheers. I joined in, jumping up and down and cheering, and he turned to me with an eyebrow raised ever slightly, before he continued.

“This is Helena. Sing along if you know these sad bastard words.”

Finley came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Did we do good?” he asked.

“Of course,” I confirmed. “You all sounded amazing. Alex is getting better by the day.” Noticing the unhappy face he pulled in reply, I hastily added, “You too, of course, but it’s hard to improve on perfection.”

“That’s better,” he declared, petting me on the head as if to reward me for saying the right thing.

Alex appeared soon after, placing her head on my shoulder, so I ended up in some sort of a SAYF sandwich. I noticed people were watching us – even a few people trying to take sneaky pictures, and it made smile, because it showed how popular they were getting. Even if I hated having my photo taken.

I turned to watch MCR play, occasionally taking pictures, like when Bob – apparently bored of playing the quietest drum beat ever – tried to throw a drumstick into the crowd and instead it landed on Ray’s head, much to his chagrin. Apparently, the drummer's stage antics weren’t suited to a room barely bigger than my bedroom at home.

“For our last song, I wanted to play a cover,” Gerard announced after they finished The Ghost of You. “Because it’s from one of my favourite bands and the words mean a lot to me.”

Ray leaned into his mic then. “Trust me, we didn’t have any choice in this. Sorry.”

Gerard shot him a playfully angry look. “This is a song I want to dedicate to those have stuck by me, even if they’re dicks like Toro,” he finished, as they began to play a song which I didn’t recognise.

“I change my colour for you, I shed my coat with caution... I lack the beauty you display.”

I had to shake off Alex and Finley to do my job eventually – I couldn’t just take pictures from one spot. I dropped into a crouch as to not block the view for those behind me, and awkwardly shuffled towards the front of the stage so I was next to Frank, and began to take pictures.

“See here they are the bruises and some were self-inflicted and some showed up along the way.”

At some point, I realised that Gerard was watching me, as I caught his gaze when I went to take a picture. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, which turned into one of my favourite photos from that day. The light was just right to give a soft glow around his hair, and he looked wholly innocent and charming with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“So now we’ve come upon the hardest thing I’ve ever done; it’s telling you that I’m a mess. What sort of mess I mean is self-destructive gasoline, the kind that strips you of your best.”

He reached out a hand towards me, which I looked at for too long a moment, before hesitantly taking it. He didn’t miss a beat in the song, but there was a murmur from the crowd behind me, curious and confused. I daren’t listen any closer to what was being said by the crowd as he sang, holding my gaze.

“You sleep alone at home and wish that I was in our bed, with this I’m telling you my colour changes back to blue. How do I ask you this, will you help me through?”

“Thank you guys,” he said, once they’d finished the song to rapturous applause, and I dropped his hand like it was burning hot and started to scuttle quickly backstage, trying to hide my blush. “Of course, that was for Frankie, who picks me up when I’ve fallen down.” He laughed, leaning over and tucking a piece of hair behind Frank’s ear, as the crowd answered this declaration with the loudest cheering yet today and the confused murmuring died out.

Alex found me five seconds later, because of course she did. “What,” she began flatly, “was that.” It didn’t even come out like a question.

I avoided her gaze, instead finding intense interest in adjusting the aperture on the camera. “What was what? I don’t know what you mean.”

“It looked like Gerard just sang you the most emo love song ever,” Alex returned, not deterred at all. “Which is, like, actual shit, because you’re so not allowed to get serenaded by one of my favourite singers ever, it’s not fair.”

“When’s the wedding?” Red asked, from where he was sat on the sofa fiddling with his bass guitar.

“You guys are so mean,” I complained.

“Dude.” That was Liza, who had appeared in the doorway, hair wild and grin on her face. “I’ve literally got to be on stage right now, but what the fuck?”

I turned, holding my head up, and left the room, deciding that I didn’t want to be interrogated by all my close friends about something I didn’t understand myself.

Eventually, after I’d wandered around the building for long enough, and snuck a cigarette out the back, I wandered back to the performance room, where Liza and Zacky appeared to be leading the crowd in the most reserved Mexican wave ever as they finished a song.

Eventually, Liza held her hands up for quiet. “This, my friends, is Cherry Stems, which is a song about falling in love with a dickhead,” she said. She stood up from her stool, and started to part the crowd with a wave of her hands. Then she waded through to the middle, and took a seat on the floor. “But it’s okay when they’re your dickhead.” There was a fondness to her voice which I just knew came from thinking of Davey, and I grinned at her.

She put her arm around one of the nearby fans as she began to sing, which made the purple-haired girl turn a beautiful shade of pink. It was adorable, and I made sure to get a picture of it, and when Liza sang to one of the boys sat there, offering him a wink as well.

“We'd go to the zoo, and watch terrible movies, with my twenty-two cats and you, because you're picture perfect, and I'm a fucking mess.”

I heard someone humming along behind me, which was weird, because everybody was in front of me, sitting on the floor and giving Liza and Zacky their entire attention. I even saw Alex sat in the corner, between Finley’s legs, with his arms around her. I gathered they were on kitten duty, because Cobain was sleeping soundly next to them.

I turned, and of course it was Gerard, because he’d apparently made it his job today to creep up on me. I raised an eyebrow and turned back to the performance, just in time to see Liza kiss a girl on the cheek and then jump to her feet.

“I was caught off-guard by your playful eyes, the cherry stems that you made into love hearts for me, and I knew then I’d found my happily ever after.”

“Are you gonna run away again?” he asked when the song was over. Liza was chatting happily to the crowd about true love and showing off Cobain, but I tuned her out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, lifting the camera to my eye and taking a few shots of the crowd and of Cobain being cooed over by his mother.

“You don’t? That’s strange. Every time I try and talk to you, you disappear or brush me off. I thought you were doing it on purpose, but obviously I was mistaken…”

“Gerard,” I said, warningly. “There’s a lot of people here. This isn’t the best place.”

“You’re right,” he agreed after a pause. I was relieved to have avoided a confrontation, but I barely had a chance to take a breath before he took hold of my wrist and pulled me from the room, into a side room I hadn’t even noticed was there.

I considered bolting again, but now it was too obvious I was genuinely running away. I didn’t want him to know he’d had that affect on me. In fact, I just wanted to get this over with. When we were out of earshot of anyone inside the other room, he turned to me with an unreadable expression on his face. He still had a loose grip on my wrist. I didn’t fight it, simply returning his look with one of blankness, hoping he’d just say what he had to say and let me go again.

Finally, he sighed, tilting his head up to the ceiling. “I’m an idiot,” he said, looking back at me.

I had to admit, his words surprised me. So much so that I actually frowned slightly — furrowing my brow as my faked smile disappeared. They felt like a punch in the stomach.

“It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes,” I replied quietly, still acutely aware of his hand on my wrist and that it didn’t feel entirely bad, and trying to ignore the way I felt sick at way he’d said it. It was a rejection, most surely — even I could understand that. Which, whilst it was what I should have been hoping for, I realised it made me feel like a complete and utter fool, but I tried not to show it on my face.

He sighed again, shaking his head, and then fixed me with a look. It seemed I spent a lot of my time getting very pointed looks nowadays. “No, that’s not what I meant, Cam... I’m an idiot, because it’s taken me this long to work up the courage to tell you I like you, and that I like you a lot.” A corner of his mouth turned up, forming a lopsided smile on his pale face

“You’re not an idiot,” I said, finally pulling my wrist out of his grip and taking a step backwards. I didn’t, however, move the focus of my eyes from his. “But this... thing — whatever it is — it won’t work.”

“Why not?” Two simple words, which somehow made me feel even worse.

I wanted to say something completely and utterly clever or poetic, but nothing came to my mind. All I could focus on was how amazingly pretty his eyes were, even when they were fixed unnervingly on my face.

I knew he was waiting for an explanation. “Because, Gerard. Because you just broke up with your girlfriend and that only happened a couple of days ago, for god’s sake. You’re not gonna be thinking straight. And, because...” I trailed off and smiled, slightly bitterly. “I like you too much. As a friend and more. I don’t think I could handle being a... a rebound fuck.”

I could see his shock on his face clearly, his eyebrows curving up and his eyes widening slightly. I suppose my words must have hit home, or perhaps he was just surprised by the way I phrased it. I turned to go, but his hand reached out, and once again clasped around my wrist. “Wait,” he said, apparently intent on letting me know that he wasn’t going to allow me to slink away that easily. “You’re not a rebound fuck.”

“I’m not,” I agreed, nodding slightly. “And I hopefully never will be. I’m not going to be your second choice.”

His expression clouded. “But you’re not. Cam, listen to me.” I didn’t answer, just kept looking at him silently, waiting for him to continue. “You’re not, because second choice implies there’s even a choice to begin with. I can’t help it I like you. Trust me, anybody would be a fool not to like you. But that’s not a choice. It’s a fact. And I don’t want... I don’t want to miss this opportunity. I like you, Cam. That’s it.”

“Well I’m glad you have no choice, Gerard. Really makes me feel better.” I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to ignore my stomach doing flips and then went to walk off. He didn’t loosen his grip on my wrist, instead he tightened it, preventing me from getting very far, and I turned back, angrily. “What the hell do you want now?”

He stared silently at me for the longest time — and then he leaned down and cupped my face with his hand, and pressed his lips to mine, and I wasn’t sure what to think only that, briefly, it was good that he had hold of me because I’d probably fall over otherwise. Suddenly all of my arguments died on my lips, and all that I could think about was just how nice his kisses were, and I lost all sense of space and time until I was pressed up against the wall again, but this time with his hands either side of my head, his body against mine, and his lips on an earnest campaign to kiss all of the exposed skin of my neck.

It took me several seconds to react, but my hands were shaking and it took me two attempts to get them to work and to push him away. My limbs didn’t seem to want to respond to me anymore. I stared at him dumbfounded for far too long to be comfortable, and the silence between us suddenly felt a lot heavier. There was an odd quirk to his lips, and I could tell he was quite proud for making me speechless, although worried, too, from his eyes.

“You are a real dick,” I managed to say finally. “I think you know that too. I mean, earlier, with that song…”

He laughed. “That’s uncalled for.”

I returned his smile, but then glanced away. “Look…”

“No, wait, listen to me,” he cut across. I looked back at him, surprised. “I’m not asking for you to agree to something massive and ridiculous, but… just, try it? How could it hurt?”

“You could hurt me,” I mumbled, but I knew I didn’t sound convincing anymore.

“And you could hurt me, but take a chance?”

I didn’t know what to say, or what to do, so I just said the first thing that came to mind. “Okay.”

He smiled brilliantly, and leaned over to kiss me quickly on the cheek. “Okay.”

~*~

The next part of the day was dedicated to the meet and greet with the contest winners, which involved a whole lot standing around, it appeared. After a wait of about ten minutes, the bands were herded politely into yet another room, which had a white backdrop against one wall and a professional photographer waiting to take any pictures requested.

There was also, I noticed, a table laden down with enough food to feed a small army. I happily started to help myself, deciding that we were likely to be here for a very long time. Since Finley had rushed me out of my bed, I hadn’t managed to eat anything at all today and I was running entirely on cups of coffee. Not a great mix.

“I think those are for the fans,” Liza said, when I had stuffed a ham and cheese sandwich into my mouth.

I looked at her, swallowed and then grinned. “I’m a fan of you,” I replied.

She playfully rolled her eyes, but said nothing, instead snatching a few crisps off my plate for herself. “I actually really enjoy these events,” she said, looking around the room. “You see a lot of people whose stories can be super rewarding to hear.”

“Also – presents!” It was Frank who yelled, even though he was across the other side of the room with Ray.

She sighed, as if her patience had already been tested enough and she was running out of it. I couldn’t blame her. “Yes, and presents. Way to ruin the sentiment, Frank.”

A few people were trailing into the room now, clumped in little groups of twos and threes, and led by a few of the radio staff. I saw a fair few of the fans glance around the room at the gathered band members. There was a lot of looks of shock, a few of extreme happiness, and even some fans who looked like they were about to cry.

In fact, one girl did start crying, although I hoped it was with happiness. Frank noticed this, and immediately he bounded over to her, pulling her into one of his rib-crushing hugs. I watched, a small smile on my lips, as he began to talk to her, his full attention on her.

Gerard sidled up to me. “He’s a good one,” he said. “They love him.”

“Please, they love you too,” I said, nodding towards a small group making a beeline for him. “Prepare yourself.”

He grinned. “I am always prepared,” he said, before leaning over, kissing my cheek, and then walking over to meet them halfway.

I knew I’d be getting one of Alex’s looks now, so instead I turned back to the buffet table, excited to see they had party rings as well. I picked out an orange and white one, and I was about to take a bite of it when a small voice next to me said, “Can I have a picture?”

I almost choked on the biscuit, turning to the girl who had asked the question. “I’m—sorry?”

The girl looked embarrassed. She was a tiny thing, dressed in a Hello, Irony tour t-shirt from a few years back, even though she looked barely sixteen. I decided I liked her a lot. “I just really like your blog, and my friends are super jealous, and I just… yeah…”

Finally, I recovered, no longer in risk of choking on the biscuit, and I smiled brightly. “Of course – who with?”

She looked at me like I was insane. “Uh, you?”

Wide-eyed, I posed for the picture with her. Liza wandered into the background to give us bunny ears, which made me smile. When the girl checked the photo, she looked up, shocked, to see the singer casually stood behind us.

“I like your shirt,” Liza said. “What’s your name?”

~*~

“We have so many fans!” Alex declared, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, as the second group of meet and greets were gently rounded up and led out of the room. Apparently, they had been split into three groups to keep the numbers down. I hadn’t paid much attention to the explanation, because aside from Mel – the name of the girl who had asked for my photo earlier – I hadn’t been involved much in the meet and greet.

Alex looked so ecstatic, the happiest I’d seen her in so long, and I couldn’t help but shoot her a smile before I quickly began to check through the pictures on the camera.

I did get some beautiful ones, I decided, candid ones which looked so much more natural than the stiff, posed ones from the professional photographer, at least in my – less than professional admittedly – opinion. My favourite of them all was one of Ray knelt down to talk to a young fan – she couldn’t have been more than seven – who had come with her older sister, his face broken into an amazing smile as she handed him a friendship bracelet made in red and black.

“I’ll treasure it,” he promised, as he slipped it around his wrist. I got the whole exchange in a series of pictures, and you could see the sheer joy on the child’s face.

And then there was the funniest one of Finley and Alex, posing with a guy who had come straight over to them and then asked – rather boldly – if he could have a kiss on the cheek. They’d both obliged, although I couldn’t help but notice the guy had his eyes firmly fixed on Finley in the picture. Ah, young love.

“You’ve got more fans than us,” Liza said jokingly, as she flicked through a comic book she’d been handed at some point. It appeared to star herself as the lead character, and I was pretty sure she’d said that she was going to get it framed to hang on her wall. I wouldn’t put it past her. Cobain was sleeping peacefully in her handbag now, at least, so she wasn't dedicating her whole attention to the kitten.

It appeared as if Alex couldn’t stop grinning. “Almost – watch your backs!”