Life on the Murder Scene

“Frank,” I giggle holding my hands in front of my face, trying to block the spunky guitarist who is, yet again, insisting on record me. “Frank, no. Please. You know I hate being recorded.”

The guitarist sticks his tongue out at me, “Come on, you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid being in this video you’re creating. You might as well just give up Mak.”

Rolling my eyes I lower my hands, “Fine, if you record me I get to shave your eyebrows off.”

“No! Are you insane?”

I wink back at Frank, “Only a little. Now do we have a deal or no?”

Frank chews on his lip ring for a little, his eyes set on me. “Fine, but you have to dye my hair for me too.”

I shrug; it isn’t like that’s a punishment. Leaning forward, I press my lips to Frank’s forehead, receiving a content hum from the guitarist. As soon as I’m sitting straight again Frank has the camera focused on me, a lopsided smile across his face.

“So, Mak, do you want to tell everyone what you did to our fans today?”

I can’t help but giggle as I remember the stir I’d caused amongst the My Chemical Romance fans not an hour ago. “I decided I wanted to pretend to be a fan. I don’t see what the fuss was about. I didn’t hurt anyone.”

Frank laughs, flopping down on the couch next to me, the camera still held in front of his face, “Yeah well, now the whole Internet is buzzing about who the mysterious girl is that was pulled over the barrier to be with the band.”

“Oh that’s such bullshit Frank,” I answer back as Mikey walks through the bus.

“He’s telling the truth,” my older brother says, holding out his laptop for me to see. The back of my head is plastered across the screen; a short blurb about the fan that got to meet the band is below it.

“People are getting worked up over nothing,” I answer back recalling the events from earlier.

“Frank! Frank Iero!” I call out, my body pressed against the barrier, a crowd of fans surrounding me, all calling out to various members of the band, posters and CD cases held out to be signed.

The dark haired guitarist turns to look at me, a smile spreading across his face as he approaches the barrier. The fans begin to scream, calling out his name and waving items in his face.

“What can I sign for you today?” Frank questions with a smirk.

“Can I just take a picture with you?” I question holding up my camera.

Before I can turn around and snap the picture the bands bodyguard comes over to Frank. He eyes me for a few minutes before shaking his head. I offer up an innocent smile, as if I’m doing nothing wrong. Even though no one knows who I am, My Chemical Romance’s bodyguard thinks it’s unsafe for me to mingle with the fans. He’s worried they’re going to figure out that I’m associated with the band.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the large man in front of me questions as Frank moves on to sign some things for the fans.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answer back.

“Get over here.”

Before I can stop him, Big Worm lifts me over the grate, placing me back on my feet next to Mikey. He smiles over at me as he hands back a converse to a girl with blue hair standing on the other side of the barrier. She gives me a strange look before nudging her friend. The two whisper back and forth before moving out of the way for others to get to the front.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Mikey says in a singsong voice as all of us walk back towards the bus.

“Hush.”

“Brain thinks we should release a statement,” Mikey says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“That says what?” I respond back.

“He said we could say pretty much anything we wanted. I’ve been talking to Ray and he says we should announce you as our sister but I think that could be risky.”

“What do you suggest instead?” Frank questions the camera’s focus shifting from me to my older brother.

“Ray wants to announce Makayla as your girlfriend, Frank.”

A loud thud against the side of the bus saves Frank and I from having to respond. Getting up, I hurry towards the door. Once outside I see a frustrated Gerard staring at beer that is now running down the side of the tour bus. He’s frowning, his hands resting on his hips, hair hanging in his face.

“What happened?” I questions cautiously, keeping my distance from my older brother. I don’t want to get knocked around again. I don’t know how drunk Gerard is or what could set him off.

“The fucking beer can wouldn’t open,” he huffs back, eyes still focused on the frothy liquid dripping onto the asphalt.

“Do you need some help?” a male voice behind me sounds.

Turning around, I see Frank followed by Mikey and Ray. All three of them look concerned. Mikey raises an eyebrow at me and I give him a defeated frown in return. Words aren’t really going to explain the situation. Gerard has moved from just passing out on the couch to getting angry when things don’t go his way. This is getting out of control and I have a feeling none of us are going to be able to get a handle on my oldest brother.

“What happened?” Frank whispers in my ear after he’s opened a beer for Gerard.

“He got upset.”

“Do you think he’s going to be okay to play the kickball game tonight or are we going to have to forfeit?” Mikey questions, his lips pulling down into a frown. The bassist doesn’t enjoy being around other people too much but I know he was really looking forward to this charity match. He always enjoys meeting fans, especially when he knows he won’t be bombarded with things to sign and questions to answer. It’d be a shame if the guys couldn’t participate because Gerard couldn’t get his shit together.

“Naw, if Gee can’t play we can always sub in my girlfriend,” Frank laughs, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him, his lips finding my cheek.

I crinkle my nose, trying to get away from the guitarist even though I’m laughing, not minding his joking one bit. Frank and I have always had chemistry so pretending to be dating until fans forget about the stunt I pulled won’t be hard. He’ll hold my hand walking off stage, kiss my forehead every once in a while, and then we’ll fake break up and things will go back to normal. Right?
_________

Gerard passed out in the shower shortly after the beer throwing incident and is sober enough to take the golf cart ride to the parking lot where the guys are supposed to play kickball. I’ve got my camera fixed on Mikey, who has been beaming ever since he was told we wouldn’t have to forfeit. Frank’s got his hand resting on my knee, figuring we might as well take control of the situation before the rumor mill blows it out of proportion.

“Who are those old dudes?” Frank questions, as the golf carts stop in front of a group of men in their fifties, kicking around a yellow rubber ball.

“Parents maybe?” Mickey offers back as the band walks over to a middle aged man with a pedophile mustache and a blue shirt that reads ‘Kickin’ for a Cause’ across the chest in obnoxious yellow block letters.

“You guys must be My Chemical Romance. Hi, I’m Howard, head of the Kickin’ for a Cause, professional kickball team. We’re excited to get to play with you guys today.”

“I don’t think those are parents,” Frank whispers.

“So, I’ll let you guys work on some strategy and then we’ll get started. The local paper is here to take a few photos and what not.”

As Howard walks over to his team, the rest of us huddle up. The look on everyone’s faces lets me know we’re all on the same page. This is absolutely not what the guys were expecting and none of them are thrilled. Playing middle-aged men in kickball is not their idea of giving back to the community.

“What’re we supposed to do? These guys are a professional kickball team,” Mikey whispers, his arms thrown over the shoulders of my older brother and I. “This isn’t what Brian told us we were doing when we all talked to him on the phone.”

“Why don’t we just play the game and get it over with?” Gerard offers up, glancing over his shoulder at the other team.

“It isn’t like you guys have a choice, they’re here. I’ll get Brian on the phone later tonight or tomorrow and see what’s up.”

The guys all nod before breaking apart and heading over towards the home plate.

I focus my camera on the band members as they step up to kick first. Mikey manages to make it to second base before he’s tagged out. Frank kicks the ball straight into the hands of one of the professionals and automatically gets out. Ray gets a home run before Gerard kicks three foul balls, causing the teams to switch spots. This goes on for the next hour. Although the guys try to put on their best ‘I’m enjoying myself’ faces, I can tell none of them are really having much fun. By the time the game is over they’re down by twenty runs.

Everyone poses for a picture for the paper before handshakes are exchanged and the guys all trudge back to the golf carts. Frank sits next to me on the back, his head instantly coming to rest on my shoulder.

“That was such bullshit,” Mikey grumbles, cramming his body in between Frank and the arm rest while Ray and Gerard sit up front with the driver. “I was looking forward to meeting fans.”

“Can you just explain what happened? It’ll help me introduce this when I’m editing.”

“So, I just thought that we we’re going to be playing kickball with some fans for a charity thing. Instead they had us playing these old dudes on a professional kickball team. Those fuckers creamed us too,” Frank complains with a look of defeat.

“You’ll do better next time…babe,” I answer back with a wink.

The guitarist winks back before kissing the tip of my nose. Our fingers intertwine before we both hop off the golf cart and climb the stairs to the bus. It’s going to be another long night of driving.

Notes

Sorry it's taken me like five years to update this, I've had really bad writers block and just wasn't happy with what I was writing. I never want to put out chapters for you guys that I don't think are my very best. Anyway, I hope to start updating this story more often. Hope you enjoy :)