Life on the Murder Scene

“Mikey definitely told the interviewer that we were having an exorcism,” Frank laughs, recalling the bands interview earlier this morning.

“Yeah, well it can’t be as bad as Gerard telling him that we kidnap our fans and drop them off in dangerous locations,” Mikey answers back with a grin.

I shake my head, laughing along, “Well, if people didn’t think My Chemical Romance was a satanic band, they do now.”

We are nearing the end of Warped Tour, and although I’ve had a blast, I’m ready to head home. I miss my bed and being able to take regular showers. Frank and I have discussed me moving back in with him, and after talking it over with mom, I’ve decided it’s a good idea. Mom is the only one who knows about my relationship with Frank. She’s promised to keep it to herself until the two of us find a good time to tell everyone else.

“Do we have anymore cheese?” Frank questions, standing with the mini-fridge open.

“We are out of cheese,” I answer back. “You ate the last of it a couple days ago.”

“Damn, I think we’re also out of beer,” Frank frowns, shutting the fridge door and plopping down on the couch next to me.

“I can confirm, we are completely out of alcohol,” Gerard answers, finishing off his bottle of Jack Daniels. He sets it on the counter next to him, a drunken smile set on his lips. “Well, now we are.”

“It isn’t even worth trying to make a grocery run, we’re going to be home in a week,” I mumble, knowing that no one is paying any attention.

Everyone is focused on Gerard. He’d tried to kill himself again last night, crying and yelling about letting everyone down. Not twenty minutes earlier he had called Brian, telling him that his drinking was out of control and that he needed help. I had found him in the bathroom, pill bottle in hand. After a long conversation with the band’s manager about not cutting the tour short, I’d put Gerard to bed, waking about every thirty minutes to make sure he was still okay. I think the incident kind of woke everyone up. Frank, Mikey, Ray and myself have been careful not to drink much around my brother and to keep a close eye on him. There isn’t a second of the day that Gerard is alone.

“We play at one thirty today, are you going to be there?” Frank whispers to me, pulling my attention away from Gerard.

“Of course. I don’t have any other bands that I’ve not seen yet.”

Frank laughs, “I see how it is.”

“Honestly Frank, I’ve seen the other bands. There isn’t a single one on this tour that’s better than yours.”

Frank beams at me, grabbing a handful of Cheerios out of the box I’ve got positioned between my legs. As he eats, the guitarist picks up the notebook I’d been writing in earlier this morning while everyone was gone. Sometimes I just need to get the thoughts out of my head and writing them down is the only way I know that works.

“Some of these lyrics are really good Mak, you should share them with Gerard,” Frank says, eyes still fixed on the notebook.

I just shrug, “Maybe.”

“Are we ready to head to the stage?” Ray asks, coming up from the back of the bus where he usually hides.

“I was born ready,” Gerard laughs as we all head out into the rainy afternoon.

I scowl at the sky before walking over to Mikey, reaching for his beanie. I’d left mine on the bus, but know if I let my hair get too wet it will turn into a terrible, frizzy afro.

“Oh no you don’t,” Mikey laugh, holding his beanie onto his head with one hand. “There’s no way I’m letting the rain mess up my hair.”

“But Mikey,” I wine, giving my brother a puppy dog face.

Mikey stops and for a few seconds I think he might actually be giving in, “Nope, sorry.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab my brother’s hand and pull him towards the backstage area, wanting to get out of this rain as quickly as possible.

The entire area in front of the stage has turned into a muddy swamp. The fans are soaking wet, many with mud caked up to their thighs. I wish there was something that could be done about it. Thankfully, everyone in the audience looks like their having the time of their lives, not at all affected by the constant drizzle. As long as the kids coming to the show are happy, that’s all that matters.

As Frank switches out his guitars, he winks at me. I smile and waggle my fingers back at him. I’m still amazed by the fact that he decided to be with me. He could have his pick of anyone.

Thanks for the Venom marks the middle of My Chemical Romance’s set for Warped. Frank climbs on top of one of the monitors; unfortunately, it isn’t set up in a way where it isn't completely stable. The monitor tips backwards, sending Frank flying. He lands on the toes of his shoes, rolling into a seated position. He gets himself back up, but I can tell something is wrong. The guitarist promptly sits back down, continuing to play. My boyfriend doesn’t get up again for the rest of the set.

“We are My Chemical Romance! Thanks for hanging out with us!” Gerard shouts into his microphone before the guys exit the stage.

Frank continues to sit there, allowing Mikey to help him to his feet. My older brother motions for me to come help him. Quickly, I run to Frank, slinging his other arm over my shoulder. Something definitely isn’t right.

“What happened?” I question as the two of us help Frank backstage.

“The fucking monitor fell and I don’t know. My foot just hurts a lot.” Frank answers back as he lowers himself into the chair I had been sitting in throughout the performance.

Kneeling down in front of Frank, I untie his shoe and remove it from his foot as gently as I can. The last three toes on Frank’s foot have already started to swell, a deep blue bruise beginning to form. There’s no doubt in my mind that they’re broken. Fuck.

“That doesn’t look good, brother,” Ray says, coming to stand behind me, hands resting on his hips.

“Those are definitely broken,” Frank frowns, lifting his foot a little to look at it. “Damn it. Who set up those fucking monitors?”

“They aren’t meant to be stood on, Frank,” I answer back, a little upset with him. I’m used to Frank getting the occasional cut or bruise from his antics on stage, but he’s never broken a bone before. Toes can’t just be put in a cast and healed. He’s going to have to let the bones heal on their own.

“How the hell was I supposed to know it was going to topple over?” Frank shoots back, raising his voice a little.

I scowl at him, “I can tape them for you, but you’re going to have to stay off that foot as much as possible.”

“Should we take him the medic?” Mikey questions, his eyes set on me.

“They’re just going to tell him the same thing I did. You can’t really put a cast on toes.”

“It’ll be fine. I’m sure they’ll stop hurting in a few days. Can you guys help me back to the bus?” Frank says.

Together, Mikey and I lift Frank onto Ray’s back. Taking Gerard’s hand I tug him towards the stairs. He’s staid relatively quiet through the whole ordeal, watching from a distance. I wonder if he even really understands what’s happening.

“Is Frankie going to be okay, Mak?” Gerard questions as we walk through the rain towards the bus.

“Yeah, he’s going to be okay.”

Notes