I swear.

I never meant to lose sleep at night. I never meant to interpret every lyrics of every songs or to become overly obsessed with the vibration of my phone. I never meant to be the person that based the faith of their entire day on one, stupid little detail.

I never meant for it to go this far.

I never meant to hate myself.

I never meant to fall in love

*

I knew it the second I laid my eyes on him. The way he chewed his gum in such a nonchalant way, with lips smacking like he wanted to wake the dead. He had dirty hair falling vulgarly against the side of his face and he stank like dry gin and old cigarettes.

He was everything I wasn't. He was loud and messy, I was quiet and tidy. He was impulsive and unmerciful, I was hesitant and forgiving.

He liked to bleed, but I wanted to heal.

He loved the sin, but I was pure.

Well, at least I thought I was...

*

It all began with a phone call. I had just came back home from work and was trying to eat or should I say, contemplating the sad amount of food that filled my plate. I was a journalist who'd just got out of college and was throwing myself at any type of job I could get my hands on. I was currently working for the local newspaper, writing the most pointless headlines of the planet. From things like a veteran not getting his 10% deal at McDonald's, or how a woman saved one million dollar while collecting coupons at the supermarket. My schedule was absolutely disgusting and sleeping 5 hours a night was considering myself lucky.

But I didn't want to talk about these silly topics, I didn't want that job, I hated it, with every fiber of my being. Though I had to pay the rent and New York City did know nothing about cheap deals. What I wanted, what I craved, was to write about music. To write about all the albums that made me cry myself to sleep at night because of how good they were. And above all, to learn about all of the genius and creative minds that aired the surface of this earth.

Yeah, this was my dream.

In my spare time, I followed the underground music scene of my neighbourhood. I had interviewed a couple of band here and there, but none of my articles received the amount of recognition I needed in order to start a proper career. I had my own personal blog, posting about the different venues and new emerging bands. Mostly people I could easily get in touch with.

Because let's be honest, I was a nobody, and who wants to be interviewed by a nobody? Yeah, you guessed it- no one.

Look, this was all a hobby, nothing less, nothing more. But it helped me escape from the merely empty circus that my life was becoming.

Anyway.

It was 2am and my phone usually never rang at this hour. Well, except for the few times, Alejandro, my super weird friend living next door wanted to borrow something. Sometimes he'd even call me at 4 in the morning and ask if I had baking powder. He was obsessed with this crazy cooking show and would always start baking cakes in the middle of the night. Yeah, he was pretty fucking strange. I have the tendency to attract weird people and no matter what I do, they always stick around.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the phone call.

So like I said, I was playing with my fork, daydreaming about getting out of this dull career I had condemned myself to - when my phone rang. At first I didn't bore to check it, thinking it was probably Alejandro and his mad plans. But after the fourth ringtone, my eternal curiosity caused me to sly my head and check the caller's ID. And I blinked, quite a few times. I couldn't recognize the number on the screen, it looked like it came from another state; another continent. I hesitated before answering, I mean, I didn't know anybody living abroad. And let's be honest, it could totally be the infamous phone call telling me I've just won a trip to the Bahamas.

But after a short eternity, I finally decided to answer.

I cleared my throat to make sure I could speak properly. "He-hello?" Nop, still not good. My voice sounded like a beast who'd just woken from the pits of hell.

"Hi, am I speaking with Mrs. Mia Lechowski?" The voice at the other side of the line sounded British, probably a guy in his twenties or early thirties.

"Uh yes, this is she."

"Hi Mia, this is James McCann from Kerrang! Magazine."

I abruptly stood on my feet, causing the chair I sat on to fall backwards. "Uh, yes?"

"Listen, I'm sorry to bother you at this hour. I know it is still night time where you are, but we are interested to know if you'd like to pass an interview with us. We have stumbled across your blog, and frankly, the articles you've written about the underground music scene in Brooklyn are bloody fantastic! We're looking for young writers who are passionate about what they do and you seem to fit that description perfectly."

James didn't talk too fast, but I couldn't keep up with his words. I was tired and all too excited all at once, it was like a clash inside of me. I was petrified. Kerrang Magazine, are you serious? I mean, Kerrang Magazine! Not even in a hundred years I would've considered myself entitled to work with them.

I started to have a panic attack, right there, on the phone.

"Hello? Mia? You still there?"

"Eeehh, y-yes James, s-sorry." I stuttered. "My...my phone is having a bit of problems" I babbled clumsily. Lying isn't my thing, if you haven't noticed. "I-I am accepting the offer, I mean, the interview, it would be an honour for me to have the chance to work with you."

I heard him laugh at my obvious awkwardness, thank god he was cool. "I am glad to hear you say that, Mia. As you might know, we are located in the UK. But we have our office in SoHo Manhattan, 73 Spring Street. We're starting the interviews on Monday, more precisely on May 19 at 9am, will you be available?"

"Yes, yes, absolutely." I ran, making sure not to fall down as I grabbed an old pencil from my desk. I quickly scribbled down the location and time. "Shit shit" I murmured to myself as the pen barely spread the ink, causing it to pierce through the thin piece of paper.

"I'm sorry what?"

Okay, but how stupid do you have to be- to curse under your breath while talking on the phone with your possibly new boss? "No uh, n-nothing, I was talking to my... my cat. Yeah, my cat."Oh god.

James chuckled. "Alright, well, it's been a pleasure talking with you Miss Lechowski. I look forward hearing from you."

"All the pleasure's mine, Mr.McCann."

"Have a good day, or should I say, a goodnight."

"Thank you so much for your call, have an amazing day!"

I remember throwing my phone in the air, not even caring where it landed. Obviously it fell at the worst place ever; out of my window. But I didn't care. I didn't care about nothing anymore. Kerrang Magazine had just called me for an interview and I was screaming my lungs out.
This was the best news I've had in my entire life. I couldn't believe it. I was finally going to do what I've always dreamt of.

No more killing routine that sucked the life out of me. No more writing for people I secretly hated, stuck, in this miserable apartment.

But first things first. I still had to prove myself. The interview was in a week and I had to make sure I was ready for it. I had to be realistic and remember that other people would compete against me. I had to be the best, convince them that I was the only one for the job.

Which I really was. I mean, this was my wildest dream and I was ready to kill in order to make it true.

(Well, not actually kill someone with a knife, but closely.)

*

The interview : May 19 2005

That morning, I stood in front of the mirror for 2 hours, trying outfits after outfits. At first, I wanted to wear my coat jean covered in pin buttons. But then, I thought that'd be too big of a statement and give that "Look at me I'm so rock and roll" type of vibe. So instead, I went for the obvious and maybe, slightly boring option; a pair of tight black pants and a black turtleneck. I looked pretty serious in them, but there was this soft edgy vibe coming from it. I put a pair of sunglasses on, bit inside an apple and grabbed my keys as I hurried out of my apartment building to catch the city bus at the corner of the street.

-73 Spring St. SoHo, Manhattan-

I was standing in line in a long and white corridor. Bright lights flashed above me, only triggering my anxiety. I spent the whole week preparing my speech and reorganizing my summary, writing it over and over again. But weirdly, I felt confident. I think the waiting was the worst part. All that delay, the lingering, it eased my nerves. Every people in queue judged each other, nobody was smiling. Most of them were about my age- 23 - or just a little bit older.

But hey, comparing myself to these strangers wouldn't do me any good, so instead, I concentrated on my breathing and put my earphones on.

"Mrs. Mia Lechowski?" A voice called after 2 hours or deep self motivating thoughts. I was the only one left. The voice was female.

"Yes?" I replied, feeling beat of my heart bump out of my chest. I walked towards the woman, she looked like she was in her thirties, she had short blond hair and a pretty ravaging style.

"Hello, my name is Erika Smith." She greeted.

We both shook hands as I returned the polite words. I tried hard to keep it cool to cover my agony, which pretty much reflected in my voice. And my throat was so dried, every word I said made me want to swallow.

"You may follow me in the office, we're ready for our last interview of the day." Erika smiled, I didn't know if she meant 'last' as a good thing or if it was just a simple statement that meant nothing.

I'll go with the second option, since I tend to analyze too much.

I entered the place, it was a just an office with a desk in the back. The wall to my right was made out of glass, letting the morning’s light shine across the room. The others were painted in black and a huge purple carpet covered the floor. I took a seat at the chair that’d been assigned to me and crossed my legs, keeping my posture straight. It was difficult not to play with my hair so I placed my hands on my thighs.

Then I waited.

Erika finally came back with another man. They both sat at the desk in front of me. The guy looked about the same age as her, he had short brown hair and a small chin beard with a piercing on his left eyebrow. They both looked extremely cool and relaxed. Not like me, who was slowly melting on that chair.

"Well hello Mia, my name's Todd." The man greeted. "I suppose you've already met the lovely Erika." The two of them laughed casually, sharing a somewhat friendly, but definitely flirtatious look.

"Yes, yes I did." I replied. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you this morning."

The guy named Todd gave me a genuine smile, pressing his hands together. "Listen, we were very excited to have you with us this morning. I shouldn't say this but, we've kept you for dessert." He winked at me as he handed me a piece of paper.

I grabbed it quickly and sat back down on my chair, nodding as I scanned the document.

"But don't bother with this right now, it's just an application form."

"Oh." I snapped back and waited for him to continue.

"So, Mrs. Lechowski. There's no other way to say this, we think you are a fabulous writer. I myself am working in the music industry, more precisely in the very roots of it, from touring with bands and producing new musicians, I started as an independent writer, just like you." Todd said, targeting me with the tip of his pencil. "And from all the experiences I've had, you seem to be very talented for your young age. We've looked at your recent interviews with the band External Crisis and the questions you've asked the members were extremely professional and pertinent." He paused for a second as he took a sip of his cold looking coffee. "You have this unique style, a gift, you can make people speak, and that's exactly what we're looking for."

I was blushing so hard I swear, all the way through. I'm not used to flattering, at all. This was the warmest I've felt in years, my cold little heart was blooming at last. I couldn't believe these people had noticed my work. And Todd talked about it with so much passion, it was overwhelming.

"T-thank you so much, this means a lot coming from you." I responded. Then forgetting not to touch my hair, I nervously tucked a strand behind my ear.

Erika hummed. "That being said, we still have a couple of questions to ask you." She said, redirecting this pool of flatter into a proper interview.

I nodded. "Of course!"

They both started asking me questions about my previous jobs, from the local newspaper to my college internship. I explained every details in the best articulated way possible. They all nodded at my words as they scribbled down some notes.

"Well then, Mia, there's only one question to ask you now..." Todd tossed his pen aside, staring at me with a deadly gaze. "Why should we choose you?"

This was it.

This was the question I knew would come. That tiny and vicious moment where you have to sell yourself out. Where you have to describe why you - above all others- are the best candidate. That moment when you have to go and dig in the qualities you sometimes forget you have because you spend too much time hating on yourself.

"T-todd, Erika." I looked at them both as I swallowed what was left in my dried mouth.

I had prepared a speech but I couldn't remember it. It's like a part of me knew this would happen but I still didn't bother to bring any notes.

No, instead, I breathed deeply and let my heart speak for itself.

"Look, I'm not good at selling myself out. I could tell you about what I've learned in college, or keep on bragging about my skills. But this isn't why I'm here. I am here because, I love music. Well, saying I love it might even be insulting. I live for music, I breathe for music. I want to talk about why a certain song made me laugh, while another made me cry. I want to talk about my passion and hopefully- make someone out there feel what I can feel. I want to learn, because I know there is still so much I don't know yet. In reality... there's not much to say. I'm just a girl who's ready to risk anything to pursue her dreams. I am here because... music exists. This is all I can tell you." I mumbled the last words as I trailed off to my feet.

And then I waited.

I waited in the torturing silence.

I heard papers being crumpled, the sound of pencils writing quickly and a few hushed laughs. My heart started beating in places I didn't know it could. I felt it in my throat, in my head and in the pit of my stomach. Possibly in my eyes, too. Yeah, in my fucking eyes.

I felt terrible, I felt like I was about to throw up...

"Mrs.Lechowski..." Erika started.

Oh please just say it already, kick me out of this door so I can go back to my miserable life. The purple carpet that stood below my feet was transforming itself into a blackhole, and I was all but willingly, about to let myself drown into it.

"...we've never heard such a beautiful and honest answer coming from anyone. You've truly touched our hearts. I think you've might've made us speechless." She finally claimed.

I lifted my head, feeling the hands that were dragging me down so viciously disappear. I blinked a few times, checking if my mind didn't play any tricks on me.

"Uh..." I managed to issue. "I- I think I might be speechless, too." I gulped.

Todd and Erika chuckled at my answer and stood up, they both gave me a handshake as the three of us strolled back to the door.

Todd leaned in the doorway and grinned. "This has been a pleasure, Miss Lechowski, you will hear from us very soon."

I thanked them nonstop, waving goodbyes as I stepped out. Then they both closed the door on me.

And there I was, back again in this white corridor.

Facing the nothingness and stillness of the long walls ahead of me.

I was shaking, I swear, I felt so happy and relieved. But a part of me still knew I had to wait for that second phone call.

I just made my way out of the building.

I stumbled upon this cozy little bar at the end of the street, which was practically empty, given the hour. It was called The Red Lion.

I stepped inside and ordered myself a large beer that I remember chugging down like a thirsty warrior who'd just combatted the evil of this world. Then I burped slightly, causing the bartender to eye me in a suspicious way. "Sorry." I muttered. But my dad would be proud.

I was watching the little TV suspended in the background, some anchorman talked about a teen who just threw himself in front of the subway. "Ow, how horrible." I whispered to myself,
when I heard a voice disturbing my peace.

"Argh just a last one for the road! Come on Bobby! You can't refuse a customer!" The voice pleaded, it sounded wasted and intoxicated in the best possible ways.

I turned around to find the source, and then, I saw a guy. He stood at the other side of the counter. He wore a leather jacket and soaked raven hair covered his face. He could barely stand on his feet, poor guy.

"No Gerard." The bartender apparently called Bobby stated. "You've had enough for today, I'm not selling you anymore drinks." He then poured a glass of water and handed it to him. "Drink this, you need it."

"Aaaarfff, fuckin'water? You wan'kill me, is that it? I said I wanted wwwhisky." The drunk man grunted, yanking the plastic cup away as he watched it spill all around. "Oooops." He laughed at his clumsiness, causing Bobby to sigh out of frustration.

"Gerard, you're leaving me no choice. I'll have to kick you out, right now."

"N-no, no! Please, Bobby!" He pleaded. "Come on, we're friends."

Fuck. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't just stand there and watch those two arguing. My heart ached for both of them. Bobby was just trying to make it through the day, probably sick and tired of dealing with drunken heads like him. But this other guy called Gerard, he clearly looked like he needed help. He was alone and incredibly wasted. I couldn't imagine him being kicked out on the streets, he'd end up in a dumpster, or someplace even worse.

I just got on my feet and walked up to them.

"Jesus christ Gerard! I was looking for you!" I faked that one pretty well.

Bobby glared. "You know this guy?" He asked me, a bit startled.

"Yes, he's my..." Hurry up think of something. "My cousin! Yes, we were supposed to meet here for a drink! But being the little naughty boy that he is, he clearly didn't wait for me to blow his brains out. You know, typical Gerard." I bragged and smiled awkwardly as I leaned forward the very wasted boy.

"Uhh?" Gerard glanced at me with a baffled look.

I didn't even know if he understood what I just said, but I didn't care. I grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him away. The boy cursed nonsense under his breath, almost falling down at each steps. Then I found a small booth near the window and sat him down.

"Wh-who the hell are you?" He asked me, finally noticing my existence.

"I'm Mia, and I think I've just saved your ass."

Gerard just looked at me, spaced out, mouth slightly opened. I guess he was kinda cute, but the chemicals running through his blood ruined the package.

"Look, seriously, you need to get yourself together. If it wasn't for me you'd be laying on the sidewalk." I told him. "Do you know someone we can call so they can pick you up?"

He didn't answer.

I shook my head. "Gerard, that's your name right?"

"Yyyy-up" He hiccuped as he tilted from side to side.

"Okay. Gerard. Listen to me. Do you know someone I can call?" I repeated, articulating in a very exaggerated manner.

"Yes." He closed his eyes.

"Can you tell me who it is, Gerard, hello?" I grabbed his hands and shook him lightly.

He opened his eyes. "Ffff..." He closed them again. "...rrrank"

"Rank?" I repeated to myself.

Shit. Gerard was sleeping now, head against the table, and there wasn't any way I could wake him up. I tried to understand the gibberish he'd just told me, but none of it made any sense. Fuck. I had to do something, quick! Ow, what kind of crazy mess did I get myself into? I couldn't help but panic a little. I breathed deeply to get my shit together.

After a few seconds, I decided to search for his phone. I could hear him groan as my hands explored every compartments of his clothing. "Ah! Found it." I whispered as I grabbed the device in the back pocket of his tight jeans.

And don't worry, I didn't grab his ass.

I sat back down and opened the black flip-phone. "10 missed calls from Frank" Hmm, that didn't look too good. But that's when I realized- Frank, he said Frank. I dialled the number immediately and ran a vigorous hand through my hair.

"GERARD? Where the hell are you?" A man's voice yelled in my ears, I hissed at the sound.

"Hum, actually this is not Gerard speaking. My name is Mia and I've just found your friend in a bar, he's sleeping now."

"Oh my god. Is he drunk?"

"Yeah, very very drunk."

"Oh god. I can't believe it! Alright, we're coming to pick him up, can you tell me where you are?"

"I'm on Spring Street in SoHo, I don't know the address but the bar is called The Red Lion."

"It's fine, I know that place. Thank you so much, Mia. I'll see you in a bit."

"No problem."

Then we both hung up. Hm, that was easier than I thought. I quickly waved at Bobby- telling him to bring me another beer, think I'd need it for today.

About 20 minutes had passed and Gerard was still sleeping against the table, snoring like no tomorrow. He drooled heavily. Oh well, at least he look comfortable.

"Gerard! Oh thank god we found you."

I jumped, I recognized that voice.

It was the one from the phone, it came from behind me. I quickly turned around and there, I saw a guy. He was kinda short to be honest, his hair was dark and he wore a Misfits t-shirt. He looked as young as Gerard. He jogged to our booth and kneeled down in front of his very wasted friend.

"Hi, I'm Frank." He told me. "Thank you so much for taking care of him. I don't know what would've happened if it wasn't for you."

I chuckled. "You don't need to thank me, it's fine. I couldn't just leave him there."

Frank smiled and I noticed his lip ring. "Alright Gerard, time to go!" He exhaled, entwining an arm under Gerard as he lifted him up.

The wasted boy groaned again, waking up from the sudden movement. "Ffff-rankk..." He roared, squinting slightly as he recognized his friend.

"Yup Gerard, that's me. I'm taking you home now." Frank said as he tried to keep him straight, he looked really heavy. "I'm sorry, I wish there was a way I could thank you but I really need to take care of this bastard!" He told me as he started walking towards the exit.

"Hey it's fine!" I followed just to make sure they were alright. "Like I said, you don't need to thank me. I'm just happy to know he's safe." I reassured him as I opened the door for them.

"Thank you so much, Mia!" Frank yelled at me as he walked outside, approaching two other guys who stood near their car.

I watched them as they grabbed Gerard and shoved him in the backseat.

I waved at them. "No problem!"

I was just about to close the door, but that's when I saw Gerard looking at me.

He was now fully awake and I could see his eyes. And wow, he was gorgeous, all suddenly like that. I guess it was hard to tell earlier, with all that sweat and hair covering his face. And the pub was poorly lighted so you couldn't see much anyway. But now, the sun reflected on his face, against his pale skin, and it caused a strange feeling inside of me. Some sort of tickle, but a funny one.

And also...his lips were saying something to me. Something short, with only two syllables. Something like... like Mia?

Yes. He was saying my name.

I smiled softly as the door shut in front of him, just before the car - way too quickly - disappeared in the distance.

I sighed out of relief and turned around, shrugging in contemplation at this weird encounter. Another beer yes, that's what I need. I casually made my way back to the bar, telling myself I'd never see those guys again.

Oh, but how wrong was I.

Notes

Hey, so here's the first chapter of my new fic. I've always wanted to write about a journalist who follows bands on the road. This story will be happening during Warped Tour 2005 and probably beyond. (Note that the following is inspired and based off true events but still remains purely fictional. So yeah, don't worry about all the details, I'll make them as I go.)

*Will contain sexual content, drug abuse, and minor violence*