A Picture Changed My Life Forever
"Dana, I met MCR."
The band, Dad and I walked together going outside to the car park. I saw the MCR tourbus come around the corner. I hugged each and every one of them and watched them walk to the big automatic door on the tourbus. I wasn't exactly sad to see them go either, because we were going to meet again tomorrow.
It's a three-day photoshoot. Yay.
Dad and I walked to our car. I helped Dad dump everything into the trunk and I took my place on the passenger seat. He started the car and we were off to our house.
"So, I saw Frank and Gerard give you a joyride," Dad said flatly.
I rolled my eyes. Dad must think I have crushes on them. "They did, Dad. But we were just playing." I opened my window and looked front. I stared at my reflection at the rearview mirror. Eh.
"Mmm," Dad mumbled.
"What? You think I like them, don't you?" I said, facing Dad.
Dad snorted. "Pfff. Noooo." Then he grinned.
"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"
"Nothing, darling. You don't like them."
"Look, Daddy. I'm lucky to have met them because it's not every thirteen year old girl who gets to meet their favorite band. Unlike some of those thirteen-year-old girls, I don't have crushes on anyone famous because that's so fan-girl like, Dad," I said, hugging myself.
Dad smiled his evillish grin. "Okay then, honey."
We finally got home and I went upstairs to my room. I needed someone to talk to about meeting MCR.
Dana.
I dialled my bestfriend's number on the phone and waited until the fourth ring until someone picked up. "Hello?" said the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Dana, I met MCR," I said casually like meeting a revolutionary band was an everyday thing.
"MOMMY EFF!" she screamed.
I giggled. "I wanted to bring you with me, but the Rolling Stone people only allowed me and Dad."
"SHI--- whoops, no more swearing. Mom came in the room. I have to go, Sam. Dinner. Bye!" Then the line clicked.
I sighed. I'm so mad at myself for not forcing the Rolling Stone people to let me bring Dana. I knew she felt bad and rejected inside.
"HONEY!!! Dinner's ready," Dad called.
I walked down the stairs and took my seat on the table. Mom hadn't come back from work yet and Phil (my older brother) had a date with his "best friend" who happened to be a girl, look very good and be exactly his type.
What a coincidink.
It was a silent dinner. I had nothing to say to Dad. And, obviously, he had nothing to say to me, too. After dinner, I washed the dishes. It was around 8 already.
I went up to take my evening bath and throw black boxers and a pink shirt with black skull on the middle. Dad always said I dressed too fancy for bed, but whatever.
At around 9, the doorbell rang. I jumped downstairs from the fifth step. That was a new record in the house.
I openned the door and----surprise, surprise!----was face to face with My Chemical Romance for the second time that day.
Now, really. What did I do to deserve to meet them?
It's a three-day photoshoot. Yay.
Dad and I walked to our car. I helped Dad dump everything into the trunk and I took my place on the passenger seat. He started the car and we were off to our house.
"So, I saw Frank and Gerard give you a joyride," Dad said flatly.
I rolled my eyes. Dad must think I have crushes on them. "They did, Dad. But we were just playing." I opened my window and looked front. I stared at my reflection at the rearview mirror. Eh.
"Mmm," Dad mumbled.
"What? You think I like them, don't you?" I said, facing Dad.
Dad snorted. "Pfff. Noooo." Then he grinned.
"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"
"Nothing, darling. You don't like them."
"Look, Daddy. I'm lucky to have met them because it's not every thirteen year old girl who gets to meet their favorite band. Unlike some of those thirteen-year-old girls, I don't have crushes on anyone famous because that's so fan-girl like, Dad," I said, hugging myself.
Dad smiled his evillish grin. "Okay then, honey."
We finally got home and I went upstairs to my room. I needed someone to talk to about meeting MCR.
Dana.
I dialled my bestfriend's number on the phone and waited until the fourth ring until someone picked up. "Hello?" said the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Dana, I met MCR," I said casually like meeting a revolutionary band was an everyday thing.
"MOMMY EFF!" she screamed.
I giggled. "I wanted to bring you with me, but the Rolling Stone people only allowed me and Dad."
"SHI--- whoops, no more swearing. Mom came in the room. I have to go, Sam. Dinner. Bye!" Then the line clicked.
I sighed. I'm so mad at myself for not forcing the Rolling Stone people to let me bring Dana. I knew she felt bad and rejected inside.
"HONEY!!! Dinner's ready," Dad called.
I walked down the stairs and took my seat on the table. Mom hadn't come back from work yet and Phil (my older brother) had a date with his "best friend" who happened to be a girl, look very good and be exactly his type.
What a coincidink.
It was a silent dinner. I had nothing to say to Dad. And, obviously, he had nothing to say to me, too. After dinner, I washed the dishes. It was around 8 already.
I went up to take my evening bath and throw black boxers and a pink shirt with black skull on the middle. Dad always said I dressed too fancy for bed, but whatever.
At around 9, the doorbell rang. I jumped downstairs from the fifth step. That was a new record in the house.
I openned the door and----surprise, surprise!----was face to face with My Chemical Romance for the second time that day.
Now, really. What did I do to deserve to meet them?