Status: I update this irregularly. You never know what to expect!
So...Who Are You Again? My Chemical Romance? Never Heard of You.
He Wants To Shoot Me With His Glock 9.
Pain.
All I could feel was sheer, undying pain.
I have no idea what delusion I was under when I thought I couldn't lose my hearing watching My Chemical Romance from side stage, behind the giant speakers that felt as if every last pulse that was sent through me would be the last I'd hear in my life.
I mean, they were amazing, had great stage energy (Even Frank, surprisingly), and the lyrics I understood were well thought out, but seriously- Ow.
Shelly didn't seem to think so, though. She was singing every word, not even bothered that a 5 ft. speaker was screaming in our ears.
After a little over an hour and a half, they finished their first set of the tour successfully and I still had my hearing, which I consider both to be an accomplishment.
Frank was the first to go off stage and chose to walk right past Shelly and I, continuing toward the maze of hallways behind us that had a door which led to all their equipment. The other four, excitedly raced to us and the other crew members loitering around.
They kind of smelled bad, drenched in sweat, but they looked downright ecstatic.
"That was amazing! That was more than amazing!" Shelly complimented with just as much pep as them, jumping up and down with Bob and Mikey.
"So," Gerard smiled coyly, slinking over to me, "What'd you think?"
"Uh- That was only totally awesome," I answered with an astonished look. I had told him earlier that I hadn't been to a concert before, which he couldn't believe, but he assured I'd have fun. Boy, was he right.
"Well, get ready for more. Encore, anyone?" he directed his question to the band with a smile that suddenly dropped. "Where's Iero?"
"Who's Iero?" I asked timidly, afraid that I might get my head bitten off for asking such a stupid question.
"Frankie," Gerard answered quickly, looking around for their guitar player, not focusing on my dumb question.
"Oh, I know where he is!" I spoke up, starting to back to the hallway. "Want me to go get him?"
"That'd be great," he answered. "And hurry."
I nodded then ran through the hallway, taking the appropriate turns until I got the right room. The door was standing ajar already, and I held my hand out to push it further, but I heard a raised voice.
"I'm not even at home; I'm on a damn tour. How could it possibly be my fault?" I knew I shouldn't, and I knew it was wrong to spy, but I poked my head in to investigate. An angry Frank stood close to the door with his back to me on his phone, holding an arm out in question. "Look, I wasn't there so I don't know what happened. You can take that ticket up with Lauren, not me."
I heard a muffled reply from the person on the other line. It sounded like him not being able to do something.
"Yeah, well fuck you, too," Frank said angrily then hung up. He cursed under his breath then turned and threw his phone, almost hitting me. I accidently let out a quick screech, not expecting a projectile to be thrown at me.
"...The hell?" Frank whispered, craning his neck to see around the door. He rolled his eyes when he saw it was me. I picked up his phone next to my foot then slowly opened the door a little more. I extended his phone out as possibly a peace offering, but he just snatched it back without a thanks.
"What do you want?" I hadn't ever been this close to him before- I never noticed how short he was. But that being said, even though he was just a few inches taller than me, he looked just as vicious as every other time he'd looked at me.
"I um- Gerard told me to get you." Dammit, I sound pathetic.
"Why?" He crossed his arms impatiently.
"You have to do an encore."
"That's right," he remembered with a sigh. He looked at me expectantly, but I didn't know what he wanted. "Move."
I jumped out of the way, obeying his demanding tone. He took a step out the door, but stopped then turned his head to me. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, not exactly sure how to react or what to say. A tiny, tiny smile appeared on his face as he scoffed, then headed down the hallway. I stared at him as he continued to walk away, not moving and not knowing what to make of what just happened.
By the time I caught my breath and made it back to Shelly, they were already playing. Shelly looked at me quizzically when I resumed my position next to her.
"And what took you so long?"
"I was in the bathroom," I answered, staring forward at the performance. Out the corner of my eye, I could tell she was looking at me strangely. She decided to drop the subject with a shrug then continued watching the performance. I couldn't tell Shelly what happened yet. I didn't even know what happened yet. Frank Iero had succeeded at being the biggest mystery I'd stumbled upon my entire life.
--
After My Chemical Romance finished, we loitered around the buses, which overlooked the stage so we could see the next band, Linkin Park. Even Frank stayed to listen, mind you he was sitting in a corner alone. But he looked the most content I'd ever seen, his eyes closed and his leg crossed, tapping to the beat. Their music usually isn't my cup of tea, but their stage presence just blew me away and before I knew it, they were done, concluding the first night of Projekt Revolution. After a little bit of mingling and such, we hit the road.
"So honestly, Mikey," Shelly began once back at the hotel room, "Do you ever feel so exhausted that you just don't want to perform?"
"No actually. I enjoy playing so much that right when I get onstage, the exhaustion just goes away."
"And is there a particular city you like to play at?"
"We all really like playing in our hometown. Everyone there is just so crazy and supportive, it's just great." Mikey nodded his head with a weak smile.
"Speaking of your fans, is there any particular fan encounters you remember?"
"Very nice segue," I commented from the bed where I was watching TV.
"Thank you." Shelly nodded her head.
"Well, there was this one time this girl, who won a backstage pass, tripped over a wire and spilled a slushy all over me and my bass. All the electricians and stuff were like, yelling at me to get the bass off because apparently I was about to get electrocuted and die."
"Wow," Shelly and I both whispered, looking at him with wide eyes.
"Oh, and there was this one time where this one guy asked me to call his girlfriend and propose to her for him. That was really awkward for both me and the girl."
"Was her name Hillary?" I questioned, arching an eyebrow. Mikey gazed upward in thought.
"You know, I think it was. How'd you know?"
"I saw her in the paper. They made a really big deal about it and I guess there was absolutely nothing else happening that day." I vaguely recalled the caption in my head.
"You know, I think I remember that," Shelly reminisced, gnawing on her gum in thought.
"Can we get back to this interview?" Mikey pleaded, slumping his shoulders. "All the answers I gave sucked. I won't be talking much since Gerard is a glory hog, but when somebody actually asks me something, I want to have a good answer."
"Mikey, I'm all interviewed out," Shelly complained, falling back in her chair, sighing along the way.
"Please?" Mikey pleaded.
"Alright," she paused then asked, "Can you recite The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air them song?"
"What?" He blinked, not expecting such an random question. That's what he got for asking Shelly.
"Shelly, I hardly think an interviewer would ask that," I said, stifling a laugh.
"If Will Smith interviewed you, maybe it would come up," Shelly argued with a shrug.
"He's an actor; he gets interviewed."
"Well if the situation came up-"
"Which it won't," I interjected Shelly and her overly active imagination.
"You're too practical," she huffed.
"You're too irrational."
"I'm hungry," Mikey stated suddenly.
"Me too," Shelly agreed.
"Shall we be off to get some food then?" Mikey held out an arm for Shelly to link with.
"We shall."
And that's how I got ditched in less than five seconds with no warning what so ever.
I frowned to myself, then turned back to the suddenly unappealing TV show I was watching, trying to figure out what in the hell was going on. I shifted a couple times before I came to the conclusion that I really didn't care.
I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to slowly wonder off, analyzing today's events. This tour thing wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but then again, it was just the first day. Yeah, the first day with the band and I'm pretty sure Frank wants to shoot me with his glock 9. I swear that's what he envisions with his murderous and abhorring looks. I wonder if I'll ever find out exactly why he detests me. I mean, I think I have a right to know what wrong breath I took to piss him off because I haven't really done much else while he's around.
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, revealing Mikey and Shelly. At least, I hope that was who the two figures holding mounds of chips in their arms were.
"Think you got enough?" I sported a lopsided smile as I watched them drop probably 30 bags of chips on a nearby chair.
"I hope so. I just spent all my cash wiping out the vending machine down the hall 'cause nothing was open," Mikey explain, tearing into some Cheetos. "If it's not enough, we're out of luck unless the vending machine miraculously takes credit cards or you happen to have a spare ATM with you."
"I knew I was forgetting to pack something." I snapped my fingers and clicked my tongue.
"Want some?" Shelly asked with her mouth stuffed with potato chips, extending a bag to me. I waved my hand, declining the offer with a little laugh.
"I'm going to sleep. Try not to have too much fun without me," I said, turning off the TV.
"'Night!" they chorused as I rolled over, already drifting asleep.
--
My eyes popped open the next morning to a car alarm. I blinked a few times then glanced to the clock- 6:18 AM.
Damn you modern technology.
After a couple minutes of attempting to go back to sleep, I realized it was futile so I dragged myself out of bed to get something to eat. It was kind of difficult since Mikey chose my bed to crash in and had fallen asleep ON TOP of the sheets. Shelly was curled up comfortably on the other bed under the nine or so layers of provided blankets. She preferred to not share beds- She was kind of a selfish person.
I looked around at the empty bags scattered around the room.
"Oh, yeah guys don't leave any for me. I wouldn't have it any other way," I grumbled, then trudged across the room through the sea of chip bags. I considered changing out of my pajama pants, but soon decided that wasn't an option this early in the morning so I just continued out the door where my complimentary breakfast was waiting for me.
I smiled upon entering the cozy eatery. There was food, and lots of it. I didn't know where to start, so I just began with the bacon and worked my way down the line, pilling my plate up with delicious breakfast food. When I had an adequate amount, I turned to find a seat but froze when I saw the most unlikely person leaned into their fist, poking their scrambled eggs unenthusiastically.
All I could feel was sheer, undying pain.
I have no idea what delusion I was under when I thought I couldn't lose my hearing watching My Chemical Romance from side stage, behind the giant speakers that felt as if every last pulse that was sent through me would be the last I'd hear in my life.
I mean, they were amazing, had great stage energy (Even Frank, surprisingly), and the lyrics I understood were well thought out, but seriously- Ow.
Shelly didn't seem to think so, though. She was singing every word, not even bothered that a 5 ft. speaker was screaming in our ears.
After a little over an hour and a half, they finished their first set of the tour successfully and I still had my hearing, which I consider both to be an accomplishment.
Frank was the first to go off stage and chose to walk right past Shelly and I, continuing toward the maze of hallways behind us that had a door which led to all their equipment. The other four, excitedly raced to us and the other crew members loitering around.
They kind of smelled bad, drenched in sweat, but they looked downright ecstatic.
"That was amazing! That was more than amazing!" Shelly complimented with just as much pep as them, jumping up and down with Bob and Mikey.
"So," Gerard smiled coyly, slinking over to me, "What'd you think?"
"Uh- That was only totally awesome," I answered with an astonished look. I had told him earlier that I hadn't been to a concert before, which he couldn't believe, but he assured I'd have fun. Boy, was he right.
"Well, get ready for more. Encore, anyone?" he directed his question to the band with a smile that suddenly dropped. "Where's Iero?"
"Who's Iero?" I asked timidly, afraid that I might get my head bitten off for asking such a stupid question.
"Frankie," Gerard answered quickly, looking around for their guitar player, not focusing on my dumb question.
"Oh, I know where he is!" I spoke up, starting to back to the hallway. "Want me to go get him?"
"That'd be great," he answered. "And hurry."
I nodded then ran through the hallway, taking the appropriate turns until I got the right room. The door was standing ajar already, and I held my hand out to push it further, but I heard a raised voice.
"I'm not even at home; I'm on a damn tour. How could it possibly be my fault?" I knew I shouldn't, and I knew it was wrong to spy, but I poked my head in to investigate. An angry Frank stood close to the door with his back to me on his phone, holding an arm out in question. "Look, I wasn't there so I don't know what happened. You can take that ticket up with Lauren, not me."
I heard a muffled reply from the person on the other line. It sounded like him not being able to do something.
"Yeah, well fuck you, too," Frank said angrily then hung up. He cursed under his breath then turned and threw his phone, almost hitting me. I accidently let out a quick screech, not expecting a projectile to be thrown at me.
"...The hell?" Frank whispered, craning his neck to see around the door. He rolled his eyes when he saw it was me. I picked up his phone next to my foot then slowly opened the door a little more. I extended his phone out as possibly a peace offering, but he just snatched it back without a thanks.
"What do you want?" I hadn't ever been this close to him before- I never noticed how short he was. But that being said, even though he was just a few inches taller than me, he looked just as vicious as every other time he'd looked at me.
"I um- Gerard told me to get you." Dammit, I sound pathetic.
"Why?" He crossed his arms impatiently.
"You have to do an encore."
"That's right," he remembered with a sigh. He looked at me expectantly, but I didn't know what he wanted. "Move."
I jumped out of the way, obeying his demanding tone. He took a step out the door, but stopped then turned his head to me. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, not exactly sure how to react or what to say. A tiny, tiny smile appeared on his face as he scoffed, then headed down the hallway. I stared at him as he continued to walk away, not moving and not knowing what to make of what just happened.
By the time I caught my breath and made it back to Shelly, they were already playing. Shelly looked at me quizzically when I resumed my position next to her.
"And what took you so long?"
"I was in the bathroom," I answered, staring forward at the performance. Out the corner of my eye, I could tell she was looking at me strangely. She decided to drop the subject with a shrug then continued watching the performance. I couldn't tell Shelly what happened yet. I didn't even know what happened yet. Frank Iero had succeeded at being the biggest mystery I'd stumbled upon my entire life.
--
After My Chemical Romance finished, we loitered around the buses, which overlooked the stage so we could see the next band, Linkin Park. Even Frank stayed to listen, mind you he was sitting in a corner alone. But he looked the most content I'd ever seen, his eyes closed and his leg crossed, tapping to the beat. Their music usually isn't my cup of tea, but their stage presence just blew me away and before I knew it, they were done, concluding the first night of Projekt Revolution. After a little bit of mingling and such, we hit the road.
"So honestly, Mikey," Shelly began once back at the hotel room, "Do you ever feel so exhausted that you just don't want to perform?"
"No actually. I enjoy playing so much that right when I get onstage, the exhaustion just goes away."
"And is there a particular city you like to play at?"
"We all really like playing in our hometown. Everyone there is just so crazy and supportive, it's just great." Mikey nodded his head with a weak smile.
"Speaking of your fans, is there any particular fan encounters you remember?"
"Very nice segue," I commented from the bed where I was watching TV.
"Thank you." Shelly nodded her head.
"Well, there was this one time this girl, who won a backstage pass, tripped over a wire and spilled a slushy all over me and my bass. All the electricians and stuff were like, yelling at me to get the bass off because apparently I was about to get electrocuted and die."
"Wow," Shelly and I both whispered, looking at him with wide eyes.
"Oh, and there was this one time where this one guy asked me to call his girlfriend and propose to her for him. That was really awkward for both me and the girl."
"Was her name Hillary?" I questioned, arching an eyebrow. Mikey gazed upward in thought.
"You know, I think it was. How'd you know?"
"I saw her in the paper. They made a really big deal about it and I guess there was absolutely nothing else happening that day." I vaguely recalled the caption in my head.
"You know, I think I remember that," Shelly reminisced, gnawing on her gum in thought.
"Can we get back to this interview?" Mikey pleaded, slumping his shoulders. "All the answers I gave sucked. I won't be talking much since Gerard is a glory hog, but when somebody actually asks me something, I want to have a good answer."
"Mikey, I'm all interviewed out," Shelly complained, falling back in her chair, sighing along the way.
"Please?" Mikey pleaded.
"Alright," she paused then asked, "Can you recite The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air them song?"
"What?" He blinked, not expecting such an random question. That's what he got for asking Shelly.
"Shelly, I hardly think an interviewer would ask that," I said, stifling a laugh.
"If Will Smith interviewed you, maybe it would come up," Shelly argued with a shrug.
"He's an actor; he gets interviewed."
"Well if the situation came up-"
"Which it won't," I interjected Shelly and her overly active imagination.
"You're too practical," she huffed.
"You're too irrational."
"I'm hungry," Mikey stated suddenly.
"Me too," Shelly agreed.
"Shall we be off to get some food then?" Mikey held out an arm for Shelly to link with.
"We shall."
And that's how I got ditched in less than five seconds with no warning what so ever.
I frowned to myself, then turned back to the suddenly unappealing TV show I was watching, trying to figure out what in the hell was going on. I shifted a couple times before I came to the conclusion that I really didn't care.
I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to slowly wonder off, analyzing today's events. This tour thing wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but then again, it was just the first day. Yeah, the first day with the band and I'm pretty sure Frank wants to shoot me with his glock 9. I swear that's what he envisions with his murderous and abhorring looks. I wonder if I'll ever find out exactly why he detests me. I mean, I think I have a right to know what wrong breath I took to piss him off because I haven't really done much else while he's around.
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, revealing Mikey and Shelly. At least, I hope that was who the two figures holding mounds of chips in their arms were.
"Think you got enough?" I sported a lopsided smile as I watched them drop probably 30 bags of chips on a nearby chair.
"I hope so. I just spent all my cash wiping out the vending machine down the hall 'cause nothing was open," Mikey explain, tearing into some Cheetos. "If it's not enough, we're out of luck unless the vending machine miraculously takes credit cards or you happen to have a spare ATM with you."
"I knew I was forgetting to pack something." I snapped my fingers and clicked my tongue.
"Want some?" Shelly asked with her mouth stuffed with potato chips, extending a bag to me. I waved my hand, declining the offer with a little laugh.
"I'm going to sleep. Try not to have too much fun without me," I said, turning off the TV.
"'Night!" they chorused as I rolled over, already drifting asleep.
--
My eyes popped open the next morning to a car alarm. I blinked a few times then glanced to the clock- 6:18 AM.
Damn you modern technology.
After a couple minutes of attempting to go back to sleep, I realized it was futile so I dragged myself out of bed to get something to eat. It was kind of difficult since Mikey chose my bed to crash in and had fallen asleep ON TOP of the sheets. Shelly was curled up comfortably on the other bed under the nine or so layers of provided blankets. She preferred to not share beds- She was kind of a selfish person.
I looked around at the empty bags scattered around the room.
"Oh, yeah guys don't leave any for me. I wouldn't have it any other way," I grumbled, then trudged across the room through the sea of chip bags. I considered changing out of my pajama pants, but soon decided that wasn't an option this early in the morning so I just continued out the door where my complimentary breakfast was waiting for me.
I smiled upon entering the cozy eatery. There was food, and lots of it. I didn't know where to start, so I just began with the bacon and worked my way down the line, pilling my plate up with delicious breakfast food. When I had an adequate amount, I turned to find a seat but froze when I saw the most unlikely person leaned into their fist, poking their scrambled eggs unenthusiastically.
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