Life on the Murder Scene

My Chemical Romance was given the last time slot of the day because no one knew when or if we were going to show up. Although the guys didn’t seem super pleased about it, I can’t help but think there is something magical about the sun going down as the last few cords of 'Vampires Will Never Hurt You' ring out. I’ve sat myself on top of one of the spare amps, a jar of baby pickles held in my hand. It may not be the best dinner, but it’s all that was left in the bus fridge.

As I watch Frank jump off of one of the speakers, almost crashing into Gerard during the last song of the set, I hear someone coming up the stage steps. Spinning around I lay eyes on the last person I want to see; Bert. His greasy black hair hangs around his oval shaped face like limp noodles, his facial hair always cut so there’s just enough there that he can brag. His lips are chapped and rough, and his rat like, yellow teeth show as he walks towards me, smiling.

He always seems to show up; normally it’s just to collect Gerard who he has dragged down a big deep hole. Today is different though.

Bert stops, waiting for Gerard to wander off stage and into his arms. The two stand there flirting with each other. The display makes my stomach churn. Instead of telling Bert to take Gerard and leave, I keep my mouth shut, leaning on Frank who has come to stand next to me.

“I think you should go,” Ray, who is standing just behind Frank, says.

“Chill, I’m just here to talk,” Bert grins, his breath smelling heavily of alcohol.

Frank pushes me towards Ray, putting his body between Bert and me.

“We don't want to talk,” Frank says and I reach for his hand, missing the way he feels and smells. There is no way we are going to be able to keep our relationship a secret for long, we are both too physical.

I’m pulled out of my head when I hear the crack of skin hitting skin. Bert hit Frank. I can see the red blood flowing freely from Frank’s bottom lip and it hurts me. Without even thinking I launch myself at the monster that hurt Frank.

“You disgusting pig how dare you hurt him?!” I snarl as we both fall to the ground, my fist flying only seeming to meet something a few times.

I am thrown backwards, a foot catching my side. It hurts, but not enough to keep me from getting up and going back at it. I punch Bert in the stomach, getting a satisfying oof. Another hand lands across my face, and I fall. I can feel people trying to pull me away, but I’m not done yet. Bert is finally getting what he deserves for fucking up my brother.

Eventually, Ray and Frank get me off of the singer. I look around at everyone from my spot on the ground. Bert is holding his fingers to a cut I managed to give him on his lip. Other than that he looks alright. I then turn my gaze to a drunken Gerard who gives me a rather hurt look.

“You hurt Bert,” he says before the two walk away.

“You alright, Mak?” Frank questions gently.

It’s only now I realize my left eye hurts and so does my side. Other than that I’m alright. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. I’m hurt now and I’m sure Frank is worried along with the rest of the band.

“Oh my God, there you are,” Mikey huffs coming to kneel in front of me, his fingers under my chin, tilting my head up so he can inspect me for injuries.

“I’m here and I’m fine. Just a little banged up,” I answer, rubbing a spot on my cheek that itches. As I pull my fingers away I see red, sticky blood. “I’m bleeding.”

“I know,” answers Mikey turning to Frank. “So are you. What the hell happened?”

“Makayla got into a fight with Bert,” Frank replies, pressing his fingers to his lip.

“That scum bag is still hanging around?” Mikey asks sitting down in front of me, his fingers curling around the toe of my shoe.

“He’s with your brother,” Frank replies twisting the ring I wear on my pinky round and round with his fingers.

I lean my head on his shoulder, breathing in and out best I can. It hurts to have my ribs expand. I bet they’re just bruised. Lifting up my shirt a bit I check to see exactly how much damage is done; nothing visible on my skin but there’s a nice shoe print on the side of my white Nirvana shirt. Asshole, I liked this shirt.

“Here,” Mikey says, handing me a slightly dirty handkerchief, pressing it to my cheek. “Just hold it there, it’ll stop the bleeding.”

I smile weakly at him, enjoying the feeling of Frank tracing patterns on my arm with his tattooed fingers.

“Do you know where they’re doing?” Mikey questions, his eyes now set on Ray, the only unscathed one.

“No idea man,” the guitarist answers with a shrug. “He can’t do anything though, because he threw the first punch.”

“What a dick,” Mikey mumbles under his breath as he helps me to my feet. “Good job for beating him up, Mak.”

I smile at my brother, glad that he isn’t angry with me for hitting the singer. Mikey isn't big on physically hurting another person. He thinks most conflicts can be solved by talking it out. At this point I think most of us are over Bert hanging around though. Gerard has mentioned wanting to get better, but that can’t happen if Bert is still pumping him full of alcohol and whatever else he's started my brother on.

The four of us head back to the bus, Mikey fussing over my face the whole time. It doesn’t hurt and the bleeding has stopped. I don’t even think there will be a scar. Once on the bus Ray disappears into the back and Frank decides to take a shower. This leaves Mikey and I to stretch out on the couch.

“How do you sleep out here every night?” Mikey questions, trying to twist around so that he isn’t hanging off the cushions.

I giggle, “Usually it’s only me.”

“Oh,” Mikey rolls a little towards the edge of the couch causing him fall onto the floor under the table.

I laugh down at him, sticking my head under the plastic tabletop, “You okay Mikes?”

Mikey nods, pushing his glasses up his nose just a little. From my half hidden spot I hear Frank complaining about Gerard drinking the last of the beers. He'd finished up the last 12-pack this afternoon while waiting to go on stage, popping at least three of his pills to keep him happy because all the alcohol makes him depressed.

“Mak?” Mikey questions, pulling my attention back to him.

“You gonna stay down there all day or do you wanna join the rest of us?” I ask him, trying to make my smile look as natural as possible.

“I don’t know, it’s scary up there,” Mikey laughs, scooting over so that I can join him under the table. “I kinda like it down here better.”

I nod, resting my head at the base of my brother’s neck. His arm curls around me, fingers drumming on the bare skin of my arm. I’m glad that we’re as close as we are. I honestly have no idea what I would do without my bothers. “Mikey…is Gerard gonna be okay?”

Mikey shrugs, “He likes his alcohol. It’s not a good thing, but right now there’s nothing we can do about it. He has to want to get better for himself.”

I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. I hope that day comes sooner than later.

Notes

I hope you guys like this chapter! It was a blast to write.