Can the world ever stop turning, if only for a millisecond? Just enough of a slight pause to figure out how my life came to this? Oh, but I guess I should introduce myself first.
I am Catterinna Wicked, and I am here to tell you a little story.

Our story starts off in a small town in Maryland that you’ve probably never heard of. Lexington Park, or as I call it, Lex Park, is in southern Maryland, in St. Mary’s County.
It’s not very big by any standards, but thanks to the Patuxent Naval Air Station situated right there, it’s usually busy as all hell.

Now, I know you all know who My Chemical Romance is, or if not, you really should learn. Well, my story starts out in a very weird way. I got to meet MCR by complete accident.
That accident would be their tour bus crashing into the back of my green Buick. Nobody was hurt too bad, but my car was fucked up in the rear.
This particularly sucked because I was on my way to a job interview and I could not afford to make a bad impression. I needed a job desperately.

To say I was beyond pissed is the understatement of the year. I was fucking seeing red. I grabbed my walking cane (permanent leg injury), tested how tender my neck was from
whiplash, and proceeded to get out of my car. I hobbled over to the bus and beat on the door with the handle of my cane. I was cursing the whole time. I swear the things coming
out of my mouth would have made the sailors and marines on base blush.

Eventually, the door to the bus opened up and a frazzled looking driver got out apologizing profusely. He told me he didn’t even see me when he hit me.
He looked about ready to pass out, but my anger was not going to take that into account. I pulled out my cell phone and called for the police to come out.
I turned my back to the bus to give the operator the location and suddenly got the funny feeling I was being watched.
I turned back around to tell whoever to put their eyes back in their heads, when I was struck deaf and dumb.

Standing in front of me were Gerard and Mikey Way, Frank Iero, Ray Toro, and Bob Bryar. They were tending to their disheveled driver, when suddenly Gerard looks up at me.
Let’s say the look on his face was anything other than friendly. He quick marches over to me and starts up one side of me and down the other about going off on their driver,
who’s name I learned was Alan.

I just stared incredulously at him, my ire rising and causing the mother of all fucking meltdowns.
“I’ll have you know, Mr. Way, that your driver plowed into me at a red light,” I paused for a breath before continuing my tirade, “and furthermore I am not going to make it to
the interview for the job thatI desperately needed. You gonna explain to my kids why we can’t eat because mommy’s job fell through due to your driver’s (Alan) inability to use
air brakes? Plus my car is fucking totaled. I don’t have money for a new one, or hell even a reliable used one. I just got fucked six ways to Sunday, and the only thing you’re
worried about is me yelling at Alan? You unmitigated prick, I’m the injured party!”

At this point it all just became too much for me. I got in my car and cried like a baby. The recruiter for that job I needed so bad virtually told me I had it, all I had to do
was the paper work. Now, though I had to call and beg them for another chance. During my crying jag the police showed up, and took statements from everybody. Since I was sporting
a handicapped plaque in the car, they had the paramedics out to look me over. They said I had a mild case of whiplash, and if I wanted I could go to the hospital. I refused, than
they went to check on the bus driver, who aside from a bad case of shock, was perfectly fine.

I got my valuables out of the car and watched as they towed my poor baby away. The insurance adjuster would come to the police lot to look my car over for the damage. But I knew
I would never drive it again. It wasn’t a new car by any means, but it was mine and it was paid off. I began the long walk back to my house, five miles away with the stuff I could
actually carry from the car, when someone stopped me. I thought it was the police offering me a ride home, but no, it was Gerard.

I shrugged my shoulder away from him.”What do you want? ;” I spat at him, still angry from earlier;”Haven’t we said enough?” He looked a bit taken aback by my comments, but pushed
it aside. “I was wondering if you wanted a ride to your job interview? Then maybe we could take you home?” He had a pleading look on his face, kind of like a puppy who knows he had
done bad and wants your forgiveness.

Then what he said clicked in my brain. “My interview!” I looked at my phone for the time. I had only ten minutes to get there and I was looking like shit. The time wouldn’t have been
so bad if I had a car, because it was 7 minutes away driving. Add to it the fact that I looked like shit, and I figured my ship was sunk. I explained all this to Gerard.

“No problem, while we are driving, use the bathroom on the bus to freshen up.” And with that we hightailed it to the bus and got underway. Luckily the only damage the bus received was
a crumpled up front bumper, it was perfectly drivable.

We made it to the office with only two minutes to spare. I made myself as presentable as possible and quick hobbled into the foyer of the building and up to the receptionist desk.
“I’m here to see Mr. Goldsmith, we have an interview scheduled for 1 p.m.” The girl at the desk, rolled her eyes at me and informed me that Mr. Goldsmith had been let got that morning
for gross insubordination and attempted fraud. She told me that I would have to request a meeting with one of the other hiring managers, and that since I was originally going to be
interviewed by Goldsmith, I shouldn’t count on getting a job there.

I was floored. After all that I had went through earlier just to get here, and the rug gets pulled out from under me once again. I asked her if I could make the appointment anyway and
we set something up for the following week. I dejectedly walked out of the office and straight passed the bus. The guys must have seen me and all came out to figure out what happened.

I explained the situation, my eyes barely containing the tears that wanted to fall. They group hugged me and told me they would help in any way they could. So how did they help, you might ask?
By making me the bands P.A., or Personal Assistant, if you didn’t know. And the best part is that I get to take my kids with me on tour, they even have a personal tutor. I got my own bus, which
is cool, cause my mother is the driver. Didn’t I mention I come from a trucking family? I didn’t….oops, my bad. And so ends the first part of my story.

Notes

Ok, so it might be a bit long, but its been years since I have written anything. Comments and critiques are always welcome. I take suggestions as well. I know I want my O/C to have a love interest in MCR, I'm just not settled on who yet. I will take a vote however.

Thanks and much love
hotmidnightstar