Photograph That I Gave You

Running on nothing but toast Mikey burned (what is his deal with toasters?) and a cup of coffe from Gerard's secret and seemingly endless supply, I set out in the hopes of meeting some of the people we've been touring with, bands like Black Veil Brides, Sleeping With Sirens, Fall out Boy, Bring Me the Horizon etc. We've been with all of them for quite a while but up to now have never seemed to really have a chance to connect with anyone, its like we're from a different place and time. Like we're the kids from yesterday.
I take a drag in my ciggarette, relishing the taste of nicotine and potential lung cancer. The July sun beats down on me and the smoke only adds to my overall dryness. I wish someone would invite me for a drink of any sort. Its not like anyone's being rude or ignoring me, no ones met me and I'd feel too creepy randomly saying Hi to a total stranger no matter how much i admire their music. Everyone seems to be pretty busy, no one has time for a tiny, overheated kid from Jersey. Besides what if they turn out to be asshats? I'm not too thrilled at taking that chance. Being shoved in far too many lockers during my glorious highschool career has taught me to avoid asshats at all cost.
Suddenly one of the crew approaches me and I soon recognize Jamia, a pretty girl with brown hair.She's super nice and I like her a lot. As a friend though. Its not like people should expect more of us anyway but if they ask me about it my usual response is I dunno, guess she's just not my type. To be honest I don't know what my type is anymore...
"Hey, they were looking for you. My Chem is supposed to play next, you better hurry up," she informs me a tad out of breath.
"OK I'll go now, thanks," I say rushing off.
Its a good thing I'm already wearing my white button down shirt and red tie but now I look like a guy going for a formal jog through a parking lot full of buses and vans. Maybe this is why I cant make friends. I reach our vehicle and grab Pansy (my precious guitar)then its running back into the ridiculous heat to the venue we played last night. Thankfully i see the rest of the guys waiting in a small annex by the steps to the stage.
Bob barely has enough time to scrawl two thick black Xs over each of my eyes before we go on. I catch sight of myself in a window and laugh "Hey Bryar does everyone in Chicago suck at drawing or just you?"
"Yes but they still suck way less than you," he retorts good naturedly. I can't tell if the Way was meant to be capitalized or not but I swear I catch a glimpse of a blush on Gerard's pale face.
Although its a fairly early show a huge crowd is packed along the unimpressive venue. I'm still amazed at how many fans we have. It feels like just yesterday we were recording in some dudes basement and had gigs where 15 people showing up was a good turnout. I will never take this for granted. Gerard introduces us with a lot of swearing then we immediately start into the song "Give Em Hell Kid". The sound is raw energy and the audience sucks it in. Within moments I forget my surroundings, my life and play with every once if my being. Its just me, Pansy and the guys held together by this aggressive music and there's something very pure about that.
Next we begin to perform one of our older songs one from Bullets called Headfirst for Halos. I'm aware of falling to the ground - weather it was a decision to do so or not I don't recall. Nor does it matter, the only moment is now. Gerard stands over me singing the lyrics I wrote one night a few years back when we were drunk. It was for a laugh but it turned into an excellent song so we decided not to tell the others how wasted we were writing it -like our little secret. The crowd sings along but they don't truly understand, Its him and I pristine in this memory of shared past. And having him lean over me makes it even more intimate and I can't stop grinning.
The song itself is a strange mixed story vaguely about drugs, suicide, Peter Pan and some sappy shit that I barely recall writing but from his lips it sounds like poetry to the last word.
The song reaches its laat notes so I hop up and head over to Ray in time for the opening of I'm Not Okay. My veins are full of nothing but adrenaline and the rest of the world blurs outside this stage. This is without a doubt what i want to do for the rest of my life. This is my therapy, my escape, my heaven. Until the mike and amps cut out and Jamia runs onstage
A cold, panicked feeling wraps around my throut. I can tell somethings horribly wrong. Tears are streaming down her face.
"Jamia what the hell is happening!?" I'm the first to shout.
She chokes back a sob and shrieks "They're dead"

Notes

Sorry I didn't post yesterday I had family over and had to be social. i promise to post two chapters tommrow to make up for it. I just finished writing this and it's 4 am so let that be my excuse for its quality. Anyway I seriously need some sleep so I hope u enjoys. Thanks