What He Doesn't Know

It seems like on that stage I am invincible. On that stage I can let myself go and sing my heart out. On that stage I can touch him like I touch him in my dreams. We kiss we touch and the crowd loves it. Of course, its all an act and nothing more. Only in my stories and dreams it goes further, much further. Tonight it no exception as I sing Famous Last Words for the millionth time and honestly, I never get tired of it. He is there playing his heart out on that guitar and tonight, he plays on Texas. He named his guitars. My brother is beside him but unlike the short boy who looked so into the music, he stood like a statue but played with the same amount of heart. Ray, the main guitarist with that crazy hair you just want to touch because it is so soft and amazing, plays at the edge which gets the crowd going as they reach their hands up like he was a God. Our drummer, Bob, beats the shit out of those drums and carries on the beat and my voice flows into the mic I am holding. Tonight is perfect. He is sweating and tired but he dares not stop, he loves what he does. He comes closer and closer until he stands so close that I can smell him. He keeps playing as he stands on his tippy-toes and leans his head back. I bring my head down as our lips crash into a sloppy kiss. The crows goes wild. They live for our sexual antics. In these heated moments, I cherish it because its an act and fake but I really do have feelings for him but to him, I am a friend.

"Thank you New York!" I scream in the mic and the lights go out as the band and I run off the stage to congratulate each other on our performances. The crowd still screams for more. I take a swig of water and watch as the red lights go on to illuminate the stage again. I smile as I am handed a red feathered boa and skip onto the stage. The rest ran out and the crowd ate it up. They screamed as Blood began to play. The words were funny and made the fans laugh and sing along but soon the song finished and we said goodnight and once more, ran off stage.

"Good show guys." our manager, Brian, complimented. We thanked him and walked to our large dressing room to take off the Black Parade Jackets we wore. Water was waiting for us and we drank greedily from the plastic bottles.

"Nice boa." Mikey, my brother, laughed. I rolled my eyes and laughed too.

"I like the feathers okay, their soft and pretty." the rest of the band laughed. We have known each other for many years and have gone through ups and downs together but now we were running out of things to talk about. We didn't hang out as much as we did when we were first starting out. Now its just for concerts or tours and even then we almost never speak. Hell, even Mikey hardly talks to me anymore.

"So..." Bob began. We sat in awkward silence. "I guess we should get out there to sign some shirts and CDs?" I smiled.

"Yups."