𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 ❦ (𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐝)

Chapter 2

I'm excited as soon as I wake up. Will the Sunday News present my article like Abernathy said it would? This thought makes me nervous; I can't stay still on a chair. I'm wondering if people will like it.

What am I even so anxious about? I'd better go to work before I get late again.

The New York streets are busier than ever this morning, even though the September wind dishevels all hair on its way.

"Special edition! All the details in the Sunday News and the New York Daily!" a newsboy yells in the streets, brandishing a journal. I follow the voice until I reach the newsboy and start talking to him as long as his clients are gone.

"Do you want a journal, Sir?" he asks me.

"Yes please. I'll have the Sunday News, please."

The boy beams at me. He takes my money and hands me the newspaper. I open it and... The boss did put my article first page. My heart is beating fast in my chest as I jog to the Sunday News headquarter.

I have lots of articles to edit, but my mind keeps wandering. I can't help but to ask myself how my article is liked.

Abernathy seems busy. I stand static before his door for the whole afternoon as I sink into the most anxious speculations. At some point, the boss leaves his office and scans the room.

"Michael! How is it going with the interview of the Prohibition Office?"

"We're still...preparing it..." the man replies.

"What is taking you so long? Hurry up!" Abernathy yells. "I don't have time to check over everyone. I'm tired of having to refuse your so-called articles!"

I look down and plunge into the pile of documents on my desk. If only I could disappear...

"Gerard."

I look up at Abernathy. "Yes, boss?"

Abernathy's face twists in a grin. "Our newspaper has reached its new highest sales record. We've even beaten the New York Daily! Gerard, you will accompany me to the press dinner of New York. It starts at 8 pm. Do not be late!"

Oh my God. Did I just get invited to a truly important event? "Y-yes Sir, that will be my pleasure!"

I hear the whispers of my unsatisfied coworkers.

"Uncle, you said you would take me! Why take this countryside boy? He doesn't belong in those kinds of places." A young intern whines.

Paul scoffed. "Do you really want Gerard 'the apostle of truth' to go to that gala?"

"Quiet! Gerard deserves it. Y'all keep your opinions to yourselves!" Abernathy silences all the protests. Oh wow. Can an article really affect the sales this much?

Abernathy pats my shoulder. "You don't seem to believe me, Gerard. My boy, nothing is impossible in New York!"

"I-I believe you! I just never went to a dinner like that before, I-"

"-You worry too much," Abernathy interrupts me. "Focus on your appearance. I will be there to help you."

"Y-yes Sir! I'll be there and I'll be ready."

The rest of the day goes by in the biggest blur. It's impossible for me to really register anything. I go home and put on my only decent outfit, a black three-piece suit with a bowtie. Though I start preparing myself two hours early, I end up being late as I didn't see time go by. It's 8:30 pm.

I try to go inside the facilities but two men in a black suit keep me from doing so.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I'm Gerard Way, I'm a journalist for the Sunday News. I'm here for the dinner."