Life on the Murder Scene

Rolling my eyes I watch as Ray tires to pull Frank away from the coffin. Everyone had to stay after filming to thank the extras and give Mark time to make sure he got everything that he needed. I’d gathered my things and sat in one of the pews, beginning to draw. As the boys finish up the last of their interview, I turn my attention back to my drawing. The rendition of a fallen angel I’m working on only has one wing because the other refuses to be drawn. I’ve got more eraser marks than actual pencil on the left half of my paper and at the current moment it’s pissing me off. Sighing, I touch my pencil lightly to the page, starting off with a slightly curved line. As I go to feather out the wing, my pencil slips from my hand, rolling down the paper; Frank’s face appearing only inches from mine. That motherfucker; if only he knew how much I loathed him at this snapshot in time.

I glower at him even though deep down inside I love Frank; all 5 feet and 4 inches of him. Right now I just don’t want to be bothered. We’ve been on set wince around six this morning and I’m running low on the energy I’d started the day out with. All I want to do now is go home and sleep for the next four years.

“What are you drawing?” Frank questions, sounding very much like a whiny two year old.

“What you’re gonna look like if you don’t get out of my face,” I quip back, giving him a smirk.

Frank grins, leaning forward to kiss my temple before looking down at my half drawn figure, “Imma look sexy.”

I groan before turning back to my art. My goal was to finish this before we all headed back to the apartments, but that’s obviously not going to happen. Picking up my pencil begin to feather in the wings again, trying to make them as wispy as possible without making it look stupid and girlie. Unfortunately, this doesn’t happen and I end up erasing for the millionth time before shoving everything into my bag. I don’t have the patience for drawing right now.

Once the band has said their final goodbyes and thanked the director and choreography, we head out of the van. The crowd of fans cleared off hours ago, most of the kids soaked through to the bone from the constant drizzle. I’m happy that I had a chance to come out and talk to them after my shoot. I’d signed a few things and brought out cup after Styrofoam cup of coffee for them all. Everyone seemed stoked to be out there though, despite the inclement weather. My Chemical Romance probably has one of the greatest, most loyal groups of fans there is.

Everyone travels back to the apartment in the van. I lay across Frank and Mikey, letting my eyes close. When I open them again, I’m in bed, my head resting on Frank’s shoulder. I don’t remember being taken out of the van, let alone changed into pajamas and into bed. Groaning, I roll over onto my side, beginning to trace over Frank’s chest tattoo.

My boyfriend yawns, his eyes opening slowly, grinning as he sees me, “Hey sleepyhead.”

“How long have we been sleeping?” I question.

Frank glances over at the clock; 1:27 is displayed in blue, digital numbers. “About twelve hours. Your brothers have been in and out a few times. Apparently Brian called about another tour. I think your brother wanted to ask you to come along in person.”

“Another one? Already?”

“Well, we wouldn’t leave for another month or so,” Frank laughs, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear. “That’s the life of being one of the biggest up and coming alternative bands in the U.S.”

I nod my response, letting out a yawn, “Is everyone else still here?”

“No,” Frank responds, getting out of bed and digging through his duffle bag for clothes. “They all left a little while ago to get lunch. I didn’t go cause I wanted to be here when you got up.”

Once again I nod, rolling into the warm spot that the guitarist left behind. I’d be content to lie around in bed all day but it looks as if Frank has a different idea. He’s walking around the bedroom in black skinnies, a toothbrush sticking out between his lips. As I continue to watch the tattooed man he places a shirt and my shorts on the end of the bed. Motioning for me to get up and put them on. Groaning a little, I eventually push the covers back, stripping out of the nightshirt I had been put in and putting on the new clothing.

After I’ve finished getting dressed and fixed my hair, Frank calls for a cab. I ask him about where it is we’re going but he refuses to tell me, insisting he wants it to be a surprise. The taxi takes us towards the outskirts of town, past the tall buildings and traffic of the city. About thirty minutes into our ride I spot my first glimpse of the pier. Frank grins at me as I crane my neck to get a better look. I’ve been to the Jersey Shore a handful of times but it’s nothing compared to this. As we stop I spill out of the car, leaving my boyfriend behind as I head towards the sand.

Frank catches up with me, slipping his hand in mine, “Surprise. I figured we hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time together while we’re out here so I planned out a whole day for us.”

“You’re such a sap,” I giggle, pressing my lips to Franks before leaning my head on his shoulder as we walk down the beach.

“You love it.”

“Yes.”

After we’d walked down the beach for a while we turn around and head back to the pier. Although it’s a weekend there isn’t too many people around. Frank and I stop at one of the stands along the pier and buy a funnel cake. As we sit and eat I lick the tip of Frank’s nose and press some of the powdered sugar on it. My boyfriend laughs, rubbing the powder off on my cheek. Once we’ve eaten I convince Frank to come on the rollercoaster with me. Most things don’t scare Frank, but for some reason he distrusts any kind of fair ride. Despite his fear, the guitarist sits next to me, gripping the lap bar until his knuckles turn white.

“Frank, relax. If these things weren’t safe they wouldn’t still be in operation,” I state as we begin to take our second trip around.

My boyfriend just gives me a look of pure terror, letting out a squeak as we dive down the first drop, shooting up the other side. I raise my hands above my head, letting out a laugh. For someone who comes off as tough Frank sure is a pansy at times.

By our third time around Frank looks like he’s ready to jump off the coaster and I decide it’s time to get off. We travel up the sidewalk towards Venice beach. Frank stops and pets all the dogs along the way, making small talk with the owners. He loves dogs and has talked about getting one once touring calms down a little. I wander ahead, eyes fixed on the water hitting the sand. Despite the traffic and the lack of New Jersey grit, Las Angeles isn’t half bad. The people are decent and the food is good.

“Surprise,” Frank says, coming up behind me and draping his arm over my shoulder. In his hand is a glass square with small purple and yellow flowers pressed into it. I had been looking at the art earlier but didn’t have enough cash on me to afford it. Frank must have been paying attention.

“How did I get so lucky?” I question, beaming up at Frank.

“I ask myself that question everyday,” Frank answers back sticking out his tongue at me. “Come on, let’s go watch the sunset.”

Notes

Sorry this took so long to update. I'm on break now so things should be coming a little faster now. Hope you enjoyed :)