Zero Percent

I pace back and forth backstage at our first show on the Welcome to the Black Parade tour. I couldn't sit anywhere without feeling like someone was bugging me. I just don't know how the fans will react to the album live since Gerard & I changed some of the vocals in some of the major songs.

"Will you stop pacing?" Mikey asks me, plucking his bass, glancing up towards me.

"Say please."

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please stop pacing around."

"Pacing around where?"

"Pacing around-" he takes a moment to think of where, placing his bass down, and answers, "backstage."

"Why?"

"It's making me nervous."

"Why?"

"Just don't do it okay?"

"Why?" He gets up from the couch and walks towards me. He grabs my waist, lightly pushing me onto the ground, making me sit on the floor. I look up at him and pout, giving him my best sad-puppy look. He walks away mumbling profanities towards me. "Well, then! I see how it is! Ignore me will you! Frank!"

"What do you want with me now?!"

"Jesus Christ! Rude much?"

"Oh my fuckin' god-"

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain!"

"But-" Frank starts to complain before I interrupt him.

"No buts, ifs, or whatever! Just help me, okay?"

"With what?"

"Help me not get nervous!"

"Okay. Get a towel, a bottle of Coca-cola, and come back here as quick as you can. Bring a bucket or a container as well!"

"Why?"

"Don't question it; just get it." He crosses his arms across his chest as he talks. I walk out of the room and go into our dressing room. I see Gerard and Mikey whispering amongst themselves and stop once I look at them. I grow curious as to why they stopped talking but didn't think much of it and asked where the bucket was. Gerard points towards the bathroom and I walk over. I find the bucket and towel, helping myself to a Coca-Cola bottle out of the ice bucket, and leaving Gerard and Mikey to themselves.

"I'm back; now why do you need these items again?" I pass Frank the bucket filled with the towel and soda bottle. He nods and murmurs something to himself before unscrewing the Coca-Cola and pouring it into the bucket, getting the towel soaked. He places the bucket on the floor and grabs the towel, letting it drip. He rolls it up and squeezes most of the soda out, then unwrapping it. Lying it on the floor, he tells me to step on it. "Wha-Why?"

"Trust me. Now step on the towel, please," I agree and step on the towel. I cross my arms and he tells me to jump. I jump and it just goes on that way for a couple minutes. "Now you aren't nervous of slipping on stage."

"How did you know?" I narrow my eyes at him, patting my forehead a bit with a blotting sheet.
"You slipped at almost every single show we had on the last tour," Frank admitted, "Even in your Doc Martens."

"True, true, true," I agree, waving my finger at him. "But why Coca-Cola on a towel?" I ask him, putting my finger down. Before he can answer, I hear my name from the makeup section; I walk over there and sit on the makeup chair.

I sat in the makeup chair for about half an hour before I could actually walk over to the hair section. I get my hair straighten and pulled up into a high pony tail. I walk over to the clothes rack and put on my Black Parade jacket on. It reminds me of my days as drum major in junior high, high school, and shortly in university.

"Torian! Hurry up, we need to go on in two minutes!" One of the backstage crew guys yells aimlessly.

"Coming!" I jog over to the stairs to go on stage and my heart is weirdly calm, for once. I smile at the guys holding their instruments and grab my microphone from Gerard.

"And you guys are on in 3, 2..." The soundcheck guy holds up one finger and motions us up to the stage. I take a deep breath and walk onto stage beside Gerard, who is lying in a gurney; I start singing the opening lines for Dead! and the nerves fluttered away.

Notes

Hey, sorry I haven't posted in a month but I will soon get on track with updating! Yes, soon because I'm working on other stories, on-shots, and such as well as I have a couple of tests I have to pass in order to get into GATE classes in high school. Yes, you read it right; I'm not in high school yet.

If you want to ask me stuff, just ask and I'll answer once I get on!

-Bold Toxic