gerard
June came, June went. We rehearsed nonstop and actually began to sound good. "Vampires Will Never Hurt You" had been released a couple days after we finished recording, and the number of people who bought it was less than impressive. We decided to put it up on MySpace for free--in order to get some buzz.

Through all of it, there was a sentence that was stuck in my head, said by none other than Mikey's confusing love interest.

"Brought her his bullets."

I thought about that, and I told Frank how I really loved the sound of it. We toyed around with it.
"He brought you his bullets, you brought him your love."

It still didn't roll off the tongue, however. So Frank suggested one more thing.

"I brought you my bullets, you brought me your love."

For whatever reason, the words sent shivers down my spine. I knew it was what we had to name the album. And to myself, I briefly wondered if Jessie Iero needed any ammo.

~~~~~~~~

"Can I have your advice?" I asked nervously. I wiped the sweat off of the palms of my hands on my dark jeans. The room was very dim, very much like something a séance would be held in, but that's just how Ray's apartment was. I sat on a tattered couch he probably got from the side of the road and fixated my gaze on what I hoped was a coffee stain.

"Yeah, anything," Ray replied. He didn't look up from the book he was reading.

I licked my lips. "It's--a girl thing," I stuttered. Hey Ray, I think I have a crush on my best friend's seventeen-year-old cousin.

"Oh," Ray said, lifting his eyebrows and taking his eyes from the page. "Is it that cute barista from the Starbuck's on Main Street?"

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled. This was a bad idea.

Ray put his book aside. "Well, what's the problem?"

"A lot of things," I began. I wasn't sure how to phrase it. "She's young--like eighteen or nineteen--and I know she'd never be interested in me."

"You want a relationship now, man?" he inquired. "I mean, they're a ton of work, and we have so much to do..."

"That's the other thing. We're both pretty busy, and--I don't know man, it-it's stupid. I'm sorry." I began picking at the beige threads that poked out from the cushion. The rough texture of the couch reminded me of the many nights I crashed on it.

Ray scoffed. "Bro, don't be sorry. Chick problems happen." He didn't know who I was really talking about, but regardless, I was irked by his use of the word chick. Jessie was not a chick, she was a girl. A very ordinary, very innocent, very pretty and very confusing girl. A girl who radiated love and intelligence, whose passion for anything she cared about just shined; a girl that I wanted to talk to because she always had something intriguing to say, but I just couldn't; a girl that seemed to know what the world was and know its dangers--as I could see it in her chocolate eyes--but didn't it change who she was. A girl that I really, really cared for.

I was absolutely hopeless. "Ray," I said softly, "I just want her to like me, y'know?"

"I see," Ray said, and nodded. "You don't want to get with her, you just want the attention. No shame in that."

I shook my head fervently. "No, no, it's not like that. I feel so pathetic and I want her to value me, but I don't know if she ever will. We've talked and shit, had a few decent conversations, but--ah, I don't know man, it's all so confusing."

He looked me dead in the eye. "How often do you go to Starbuck's?"

I checked the clock. It was already nine at night. "It's late, I better go," I mumbled.

Ray raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Gerard, who's the girl?" I wanted to admit everything right there, tell him everything I was feeling about Jessie, all of the stupid adorable things about her that I noticed, but I kept it in.

"It's the girl at Starbuck's," I lied. He didn't seem to believe me. "Her name's Sonya."

His expression softened. "Okay. Well, if you have to go, then I guess you'll just miss Dawn of the Dead..."

I looked at him wide-eyed. "Did you get it?" He nodded. "Hell yes!" Ray put in the movie and it began. I leaned back into the scratchy couch and let myself be lost in cinema for a blissful two hours.

jessie
July began on a splendid note for me, quite honestly. I began preparations for school, and I would be starting in late August. My luck was unimaginable--who gets into their dream school on a full scholarship? Aunt Linda would call it luck, anyways, but Frank would say it was skill.
He had been a lot nicer to me lately; in fact, everyone was. My aunt let out past curfew a few times, though I was always home an hour early. My friends weren't gently teasing me anymore. Even Gerard was behaving himself. I didn't see him drinking as much. That was probably thanks to his friends, but regardless, he seemed to be doing okay.

I was in the middle of sorting out old clothes when Frank entered my room, still messy from cleaning. I finished folding a pair of jeans and smiled up at him. He told me that Ray's birthday was next week and that we should get something for him. He suggested I pick it out and purchase it.

"Why would you want me to get him a gift so you can put your name on it?" I asked, resuming my laundry once more. "That's a whole new level of lazy."

"I didn't mean to make it sound like that, Jess. I meant that you go buy a gift and I pay you back and say it's from us both. Like a group gift." He sat down on my bed and batted his eyelashes at me like I sometimes did to get what I want.

I pulled a scarf out from underneath him and carefully placed it in a box. "That's the same thing. Why can't you just get him something?"

He made some sort of noise that resembled a disgruntled cow and flopped down on the bed. The springs creaked under his weight. "Please?" he begged. "I'm not good at doing presents."

I shrugged. "Just get him a gift card or something. No big deal, really."

"Can you get it for me? I'll pay you back later."

I eyed him suspiciously. "What aren't you telling me?" Frank opened his mouth, beginning a lie, but closed it when I pursed my lips. "Frank, what did you do?"

"Don't tell my mom," he said. I nodded and sat down on the bed next to my cousin, who had returned to an upright position. "I got a new guitar. A good one--the other one was crap. I'm broke for now. It's no big deal. When we play a few gigs, he can pay me back. Don't stress."

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "I thought you were doing drugs or something!" I hugged him.

He chuckled. "Why would I--you know what, don't answer that. I'm just fine, Jessie." He looked at me in the eyes. "Listen, you don't need to worry about anything. You have enough on your plate as it is. And speaking of plate, Mikey wants us to come to dinner at his place next Saturday for Ray. You down?"

I gave him a funny look, but then thought about it. "It depends. I'm going up to the campus then. I'll be back pretty late but I'll try." I smiled softly. "I have to finish sorting through some clothes. Wanna help?" I held up a a sweater, wiggling my eyebrows.

Frank glanced to the left. "I'm actually late... for a dentist appointment... gotta go. Have fun. Love you." He then scooted out just as I reminded him it was Sunday and no dentist would be open.

I still had a mile long list of things to do and a list even longer of expenses to pay. It wouldn't all be coming out of my pocket, but I still had to help out. I'd have to buy my own cooking supplies, but that'd be limited to a microwave and paper plates, and I couldn't get anything unneeded.

After Frank dropped out of college to join Pencey Prep, my aunt was probably afraid that I would, too. But then I thought, what if I did? As focused as I had been for the past ten years on my studies, that seemed ridiculous. The college of my dreams had accepted me and everything was already lined up, so why would I choose to play for a beginning band?

I wouldn't ever drop what I have and run. Aunt Linda had always told me that a bird in hand was worth two in the bush. At the same time, though, she constantly told me to do what I loved.

Did I love science? Of course. Did I love working for it? Absolutely not. But I had to. And I wasn't sure if what would come out of it would be worth the best years of my life--because that's what college was. I constantly heard people lamenting for the glory days, and more often than not, they were from the years that I was on the threshold of.

There was no way I would waste that, too. I had great teenage year for the most part, but my childhood had been crippled, stolen, tainted. Something I didn't want to remind myself of. The last thing I wanted to do was end my life without saying that I had had a good time.

In that moment, in my bedroom, staring at a heap of folded clothes and piles of papers, music playing softly in the background, I had my first spark of rebellion. It was wild, and quite frankly, alluring. I wished to muse the thought again, but it had disappeared under the rational way of thinking I had grown so accustomed to. If I was even considering choosing a risk over a surefire path to success, it was uncharacteristic and foreign. Naturally, I began to tune it out.
I was crazy for ever desiring My Chemical Romance over Yale University.

I still had a month to contemplate. The album had yet to come out, I had not seen everything to see regarding Yale. I still had time.

Notes

Hello!

I may get around to updating sooner for the time being. Thanks for reading so far :)

xoxo
gerweird