Until My Heart Explodes.

chapter 8.


Ray watched the waves of the sound bar roll up and down. He was engrossed by their rapid movements that he didn’t notice his headphones sliding down a bit due to his hair; he pushed them back up when the sound coming from them went distorted. He made a face at the horrible sound. He inhaled deeply, yanked the headphones off, and then placed them down in front of him. He turned to his right. Ray shook his head.

“Fuckin’ horrible, man.” Ray mentioned to their sound guy, Andrew. Andrew tried to smile but it came out more of a grimace. Ray nodded, taking his sour face as an understanding between the two.

“I tried to make it sound better, but without Mikey’s part, that was kind of hard and Frank hasn’t come back to finish the other half of the song. I put his part on a loop…” Andrew said. Ray sighed again.

Ray looked over the sound bar, to behind the window. Bob was waiting for Ray to give him the signal; keep going or forget it. Ray nodded and Bob waited for the metronome to begin clicking. He was rehearsing his part for well, the fiftieth time already.

Once Bob began playing, Ray turned back to Andrew.

“What can we do, man?” Ray asked, his voice desperate for some good news. Andrew shrugged.

“Dude… what can be done?” the spectacled man scoffed. “Nothing unless the other members of the band come in. I’ve tried to make it work every way I could but there is only so much I can do with your guitar and Bob’s drums. The little that I have with Frank, well… it’s pretty much trash. I have nothing from Mikey and Gerard… I just don’t know what to tell you, man.”

Ray sighed yet again.

“It’s hopeless.” He muttered.

“Is it? I heard that Spencer was in town. Wasn’t she the one that basically kept all of you scheduled when you did your last album? I heard that from your previous guy. Can’t you just get her to come in and drag the other guys with her?” Andrew looked at Ray eagerly.

Ray knew that even though Andrew was trying his hardest to work with only two members of the band, he was pretty fed up with the incompetence of it all. They were My Chemical Romance… and right now, they were basically a broken up band. They were known for their work ethic, not whatever this was called.

Ray shook his head, his hair moving with him.

“Spencer and I haven’t talked in almost three weeks. We had a disagreement about something and she left the house. I don’t know if she comes around, but I think I heard Mikey say that she was staying in a hotel. I feel fucking awful about what we fought about and I’ve tried to apologize, but she won’t even pick up the phone or answer my texts. I think she still needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, she’s doing her own thing while she’s here.”

Andrew shrugged. He didn’t really keep up with band drama; he just worked with the music aspect of the job.

“Maybe doing that home show will help get the juices flowing and everyone will suddenly be motivated to come work on this new album. I don’t want to be a jerk, you know that, but you’ve wasted a month already. You have the studio booked for one more and I can’t keep you longer. Other bands are coming in right after you.”

Ray nodded. He looked at Bob again. The blond was giving his heart out on the drums. His fluid motions reminded him of Spencer for a second. He played similar to her, but if he really had to choose between the two, it had to be her. She was the better player.

Ray’s mind slipped to the topic he and Bob had discussed with Gerard the other night. He didn’t want it to come to that.

Ray gave Andrew a hesitant smile.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get everyone back here.” Ray said.


Gerard raised his head at the sound of his bedroom door squeaking open. He darted his eyes over, realized it was Spencer, and then went back to drawing on his paper.

Spencer crept across the room as silent as a cat. She perched herself on the corner of her brother’s desk. She peered down at his work. Since the night she had stormed out, he had been hard at work.

Gerard spread his finished work out in front of him as he worked on his current unfinished piece. Spencer looked at it curiously, trying to figure it all out. The colors were all in blacks, whites, and grays. There was only one line of red that ran through all the pages, like a thread. Looking at it from the side didn’t make much sense to her, but when she stood up and looked at from Gerard’s position, she got it.

A parade… a dead? parade.

“I’m almost done. I have a few more characters in mind. I just have to sketch them out to see if they fit in.” Gerard mumbled, getting back to his art work, a woman in a Victorian style dress with a gas mask. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed at the art, confused by it, but didn’t question it.

“It looks good, Gee, but umm… Have you even gone to the studio?” she questioned. The lack of response from her brother gave her the answer. “Seriously? I know you love to do this, you know, put a story to your music, but Gee… The guys are waiting for you and you know really nothing can be done unless they know what they’re putting music to. Ray is on the verge of quits and Bob will follow. Is that really what you want?” she asked him.

Gerard put his pencil down and pushed his paper away from him. He turned to look at this sister. She looked haunting in the low light. He shook his head and was about to speak when his phone began to ring. Both Ways looked in the direction of the sound.

Spencer made to get his phone off his bed. She handed to him, taking a quick glance at the caller. When Gerard took the phone and saw who it was, he ignored the call. He silenced his phone and set it in the drawer of his desk rather suspiciously.

“Why is Mark calling?” Spencer asked, referring to the band’s manager. Gerard shrugged.

“He keeps bugging. Wants to do some home show. He says it will help with our stump. I just don’t really want to do it. And none of the other guys have said anything about. I don’t think they even know about it.”

Spencer laughed.

“Oh, they know. Mikey mentioned it. I guess Mark called him too.”

Gerard’s eyes twinkled at the mention of their brother.

“How is Mikey doing by the way? I still haven’t talked or seen him much since well… you know.”

Spencer shrugged.

“He’s doing better if you must know… and you can’t go back on your promise. You said if Mikey is getting help, then you would too.” She told him authoritatively. Gerard rolled his eyes.

“How is Mikey getting help anyway?”

Spencer ignored him. Her mind’s wheel suddenly turning, her eyes lingering on the drawer that Gerard had just put his phone in.

“Gee, what’s in there?” she asked. Gerard’s eyes flickered from his sister to the drawer. He didn’t try to fight it. There was no point with Spencer. He opened his desk and pulled out a rather dirty, ratty manila folder. Torn notebook pages, napkins, and other types of papers stuck out.

He handed her the folder, a bit hesitant. He watched as Spencer opened and flicked through the pages. Her eyes squinting, widening, twitching. They went from their normal color to dark and back again.

“You’ve had this whole album fucking complete and you haven’t said a word!?” She screeched.


Mikey pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his black hoodie. Fall was coming quickly he thought annoyingly. He had already grown accustomed to the warm temps of Los Angeles. Mikey wished he was there for a moment, rather than where he was now. Outside of a high school. He leaned back against the brick wall. He pulled his left arm, glanced at his watch, and then stuffed his hand back to the pocket to keep his hands warm. She was late.

Mikey watched two men head towards the main entrance of the school. They nodded at him; Mikey nodded back. He couldn’t remember their names, but he was sure it was something like John and Steve… or was it Nick and Stan? Either way, he didn’t try to bother much with the people here. The only really good thing was that no one knew who he was.

They didn’t know that he was The Mikey Way. He didn’t want or like the attention when he was out in public. He wasn’t like Frank in that way. Frank liked taking pictures and signing autographs and leaving little written notes for fans at Hot Topic. Mikey didn’t like to do all that even when they had meet and greets.

Why couldn’t fans just admire him from a distance? Why did they have to be so invasive? Why did they have to know every single thing about him like where he was born, what time, what his favorite color was, what the name of his first pet was, his social security number, his PIN to his credit card?

He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt the bump of an elbow catch him on the side. He blinked his eyes, put this brain back straight, and looked to his left.


She was dressed similar to him in a black hoodie, jeans, and Converse. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun and her thick black eyeliner was starting to smudge, but regardless, she would still be the best looking girl in the place.

“Sorry I’m late.” She said. She linked her arm with his and began to lead him to the school doors.

“Where were you?” Mikey asked. He didn’t really care, but Spencer looked anxious, almost psychotic.

“I had to stop by the studio real quick.” She said as she pulled the door open for them. They stayed linked as they walked the empty halls to the cafeteria.

“The studio? So I guess you and Ray—“

“Uh, no. I gave Bob the stuff. I called him from outside when I got there. Ray came out with him, but I didn’t have time. I had to come here, remember?” She said, smiling at him. He forced a smile back at her.

“What stuff?”

Spencer halted in front of the cafeteria. It was noisy in there; the sounds of at least ten people all talking at once streamed out the doors. Mikey glanced inside nervously. He didn’t know why, this wasn’t his first time, but yet, he still got butterflies in his stomach and not the ones you get when you have a crush on someone.

“The album.” She said. Mikey looked at her strangely. “Guess you didn’t know either by that face. Fuckin’ Gerard has had the album all ready for months. I was with him earlier, he was working on some art work for the album, he got a call from Mark, he got jumpy, and I figured it from there. I called Frank right away but he didn’t answer. I figured Bob and Ray were at the studio, so I went to drop off the stuff.

“At least now you have something to go off of. You still need to get your ass over there by the way.”

Mikey grunted. He wasn’t in the mood to talk music. He hadn’t been in a while. Spencer sensed that and then she turned him to the door. She pushed him in slightly. He barely budged.

“C’mon, Mikey. We can’t do this every week. You got this. Don’t be nervous. I will sit next to you and drink their shitty coffee with you. I got you, bro.”

Mikey gazed at his little sister. She gave his a reassuring smile, one that he remembered her giving him all the time when they were kids and for a moment, he felt extremely grateful for her. He nodded and they walked into the cafeteria together.

Ten heads all turned to look at them. There was one person standing behind a podium that was set up in front of a group of chairs. A lady dressed in 70s hippy attire, her hair waist length and dirty blonde, her blue eyes crinkled as she gave Mikey and Spencer a wide grin.

“Hello! Welcome to Alcoholics Anonymous!” she exclaimed.


Frank inspected the hallway in which he came from. It was past midnight and the lady at the reception desk had eyeballed him with the most shameful eyes ever. He didn’t look like a sketchy guy; sure, it was late at night, but who was she to judge him. He mumbled miserably under his breath before coming to stop at a door at the end of the hall. He read the numbers on his key card, read the numbers on the door, and then prayed to the key card gods that his key worked.

He inserted it; when the red light flashed green quickly, he pulled it out and turned the knob. He sighed of relief as he pushed the door open. The room was dark, but he knew without a doubt that he was in the right room. It smelled of peonies and cherry blossom lotion, a hint of chamomile tea, and clothes’ starch.

Frank kicked his shoes off as he closed the door silently. He locked it and then began to tiptoe to where the bed was. His eyes took a while to adjust to the dark but when they did, he noticed the ironing board next to the TV, clothes ironed and folded for the next day. A suitcase close to the bathroom door. Lotions, makeup, and charging phone on the nightstand. Her sleeping body enveloped under the thickest comforter.

Frank pulled his jeans and t-shirt off, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs. He inhaled silently and then crawled under the covers. He scooched over until he could embrace her. He wrapped his arm around her midriff and pulled her close. The smell of her coconut shampoo, although so familiar with it, nearly drove him over the edge.

Spencer awoke with a start, her body tense and heavy from the weight of someone embracing themselves around her. Frank felt her shift, shushed her, and placed a kiss on the crown of her head. Spencer, realizing that it was only Frank, relaxed and eased her body back to mold herself with him. Frank’s smelled of cinnamon, cigarettes, and coffee. Spencer drew in his scent and quickly fell into slumber again.

It took Frank’s nonstop moving to wake her up again. She turned her body sluggishly, her eyes still closed. Frank grabbed her by the hip and pulled her close. He brought his face to hers and pressed his lips to her lips. Although drowsy, Spencer didn’t mind the slow, intimate, yet hungry kisses.

Frank pulled away and she whined. He chuckled.

“I missed you.” He whispered to her. She nodded as she gently opened one eye to look at him. He bit his lip as he watched her face. Since she had left the house, it had been easy for them to be together when and where they wanted. Even though nothing more than kissing had happened since she arrived back, tonight was definitely different.

Spencer sat up. She gave Frank a small push, making him land completely on his back. In the shadow of the night, Spencer looked just as gorgeous as ever. She pulled the shirt she was wearing over her head, exposing her body to him. She straddled him, her warmth making him instantly hard. He smirked up at her. The only thing stopping them now was their underwear. Spencer returned the crooked smile. She grinded against Frank and made him whimper.

“I missed you too.” She whispered to him before Frank flipped them over and attacked her lips.
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sorry for no update, so here's a super long chapter :)