MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE ONESHOTS

under again

(trigger warning for violence, drowning [as a metaphor], and crying)

(i wrote the first paragraph or so of this oneshot and scrapped it. then i rewrote the entire thing, decided i was almost done with it, took a five day break, and came back hating it even more than i already did. now, i'm rewriting it a third time, because as fun and motivating this song is, i, for some reason, couldn't figure out what to do with my motivation)

(so here it is, finally, because apparently i can only ever write angst)

(ps, don't necessarily read this with the music because that's hard and this oneshot probably won't time perfectly with the song, but please listen to the song first and then read the oneshot because this story is organized like a music map)

(requested by Blood-Soaked_Rainbow)

I strummed my guitar smoothly, my hands making fluid motions. Even though my electric was amped up, she wasn't very loud compared to the volume of the rest of our songs. But what some of our newer fans and concert-goers didn't know was that this calm, quiet part was a mere intro, a prelude, building up to the sudden shout that was the first verse. It made adrenaline rush into my veins just thinking about the shock half the crowd would feel, and the familiarity and warmth the other half would feel. I wondered if that half would sing along, or if any of them had learned this song — on the guitar, the bass, or maybe just the lyrics. I wondered if the crowd would be inspired to make their own band. But most importantly, I wondered if the crowd would feel inspired to keep pushing through their troubles and sorrows, just like we were when we wrote this song.

So what happened?

I shoved Gerard roughly into a wall of the dressing room. He scowled back at me and tried to force me away. I stayed put, stubbornly rooting my sneaker-clad feet into the tiles of the floor. When he continued to struggle, I got annoyed and raised a fist threateningly. He didn't flinch away, which made me bare my teeth. I gripped his throat.

"I thought... you were our biggest fan," Gerard gasped out.

I narrowed my eyes and held him more firmly against the wall. "I am," I retorted, "you're just being selfish, and I don't like that."

He looked like he was so annoyed that he was about to scream. I nearly smiled. Now he knows how I feel all the time.

He wheezed. "Oh, sure, I'm being selfish."

Not knowing what else to do in protest to that statement, I tightened my grip on his neck slightly and spat on his face. He squeezed his eyes shut in disgust and tried to wipe off his face, but I held down his hand with the arm that pressed him against the wall.

"Why couldn't you have told me?" I questioned furiously. "Why couldn't you have told me that you didn't really love me? Answer me," I said as I let go of his neck a bit more.

"Because!" he shouted. "I didn't say loved you, first of all, and second, I didn't want you to be sad! I wanted to show you that I like other people!"

I felt like wringing his neck like a wet towel. "Yeah, okay, clearly the 'didn't want you to be sad' part didn't work out."

I was submerged deep in water, drowning. I couldn't cry in the water, because even if I did, the tears would just become part of the sea, and I hated how invisible I looked. The horrifying truth was, Gerard just started dating this girl named Eliza, and while I was sure she was great, I wanted her to just disappear. Sometimes I would feel like making myself disappear, because if you love someone, you're supposed to want what's best for them, right? You want them to be happy. No. I deserve to be happy, I thought, and I decided that the best way to start hating Gerard instead of loving him was to project my selfishness onto him. He was the bad one, I told myself every day. But I couldn't shake my overwhelming care for him. I hated hurting him. I wanted to beat myself up every day I did this. And most of all, I wanted to cry. But you can't cry if you're submerged deep in water, drowning.

Gerard grabbed me by the neck and flipped me onto the wall. And I decided, as he grit his teeth at me, that I would deserve every single punch and kick that I was about to receive. But even though he seemed to tower over me, even though he was now the one in command, he didn't do anything. He just stared, the muscles in his face gradually softening until all he did was look. 

My struggles became weaker and weaker as I became more intrigued. I stared back for a moment or two. Then I became twice as aggressive and kicked my feet out and flailed my hands and curled my back and set my jaw. He pushed me back against the wall more and held me there. His eyebrows stitched together.

"Does it bother you that much when you're not in charge?" Gerard asked. "Or when you can't change things?" His eyes became more lively again, like a lightbulb lit up overhead.

"No," I denied, and continued to squirm around. I yelled in aggravation and twisted around for a few more seconds before backing up, defeated, against the wall.

My hands reached out, scrabbling weakly in the water, looking for something to hold onto. Nothing was there, not yet, but I think I knew a little that maybe I would be saved soon. It was just a matter of holding on or letting go. Still, I wanted someone to rescue me now, and preferably Gerard. Things would never perfectly be my way, however; he wouldn't break up with his new girlfriend just for me. He knew that and I knew that. But just once, I wished the odds would be in my favor. Just this once. I wanted to shriek, but it would just be garbled by the ocean, and I would drown by letting water into my lungs. I curled into fetal position, limp in my cage. Flames burned behind my eyelids. I cried, transparent.

My mind went back to our history: our concerts, our shows. When we met, how we met. I was his band's first and greatest fan, and I went to every show. They only did covers of songs, but I knew they'd sound great if they'd just record an album or two. And I thought that maybe I couldn't push them along. When I was let into the band as a rhythm guitarist, I felt like I was floating, or dreaming. We're a very progressive band for our time, and we support the the LGBTQ+ community. I came up with an onstage method to show the support, and yeah, it was a little weird, but Gerard didn't mind it. Not even when I had a tongue in his mouth.

I remember playing a slower, calmer part in one of our songs; simple strumming and only a few chords. During that time, I walked with my guitar to Gerard and stood close to him. He swayed with the music and smiled as he sang. He looked so relaxed, and his eyes were bright, illuminated by the stage lights. Most of the time, we'd do really extreme things onstage to punctuate our powerful music, but during this nice break, I figured it couldn't hurt to be a little gentler. I kissed his cheek lightly, so faint I almost couldn't tell if he knew what had happened. Apparently the crowd did, because they roared crazily at us. Gerard smiled softly at me, and I grinned back. I'm pretty sure I fell in love with him that night.

I was pushed out of my brain when I felt Gerard's arms embracing me. I didn't put my arms around him. I didn't know what to do. I felt like a deer in headlights. Why was I so weak? Why couldn't I just make a simple decision?

He waited for me. I wondered if hugging back was an important decision.

I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head under his chin, trying to get the most close I could possibly be. He smelled like chunky makeup, and sweat, and the special hair dye shampoo stuff. He smelled like the tour van, and he smelled like his apartment. He looked like home.

I held back tears. "I care about you," Gerard told me. "So much."

I was pulled out of the ocean and I gasped for air. My wet face made the tears blend in, but it was okay. I floated up, high over the clouds, and screamed victoriously down at the earth.

I tightened my grip on Gerard. "I care about you, too." But I think I cared a bit more.