Alcoholics Anonymous [GW]

Chapter 6.

It's a suburban home, with a nice big garage where I assume G's band practices. It's not too fancy but not too rugged, either.

As we draw closer, I see a couple of guys setting up guitars and drums in the open door. G screeches the car to a halt, and I jump out, excited to see G's shitty band play.

A guy with glasses and blonde hair covered by a beanie walks up to G and I, smirking, "You're late, man,"

We walk out with the blonde to the garage. G responds, "Yup," and doesn't elaborate.

"Fucking this girl, eh?"

Some sort of rage shatters G's calm and he lashes out at the blonde. "Saving this girl from being fucked, how about that, Mikey Way?"

By this time, we're in earshot of the other guys, and they've been listening to our conversation. They all stop, struck with horror, as they process G's new information. One of them, a brunette with a funny looking afro drops the guitar he was tuning and jumps up to wrap me in a full embrace. Taken aback, I let myself be hugged for a few seconds and weakly and awkwardly wrapping my arms around his back.

The fro man releases his side of the hug and smiles at me. "I'm so sorry!" He pants. "I'm Raymond. But you can call me Ray. Ray Toro."

"Hey, Ray. I'm Cath." I return his smile. He seems both sympathetic and funny, and the kind of person I'd like to be friends with.

"Cath? Your name is Cath?" G is right behind me, astonished.

"Problem?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, it doesn't seem to suit you,"

I frown. "Well, what's your name?"

Before G gets the chance to answer, someone else walks up. He's about 5'2" and his multicolored tattoos immediately catch the attention of your eye. "You bring a girl to my garage and you don't even know her name?" His tone is serious, but his expression shows he is joking. "That's a first," he grunts. Addressing me, the short one expressionlessly says, "My name's Frank. Screams and guitar. And that faggot-" Frank says, jabbing a finger at G, "-is Gerard Fucking Way,"

"Well, Gerard Fucking Way, why don't I see your band play?" I lean up against a wall and watch as Gerard rolls his eyes and cues everyone to their spots.

Mikey- the blonde- passes me as he gets to his spot. "Sorry for being a douche back there," he kicks the ground nervously.

"It's ok," I sigh. "I'm used to it,"

"You and me both," he mutters, walking away.

I sit down on some old yoga ball Frank shoved in a corner.

Gerard is taking front and center. I guess he sings- this will be interesting.

He calls out the words "Give Em Hell!" And this must be some sort of clue, because all the band members nod in unison, and a guitar riff starts to play.

I don't know the song, it must be an original piece. I let myself just listen to the melodies and observe the way the members played.

Mikey mainly stayed in one spot while he focused solely on his bass guitar, letting the bassline ring out. His hair fell in his face, and he didn't seem to mind. He smiled a little, but not as much as Frank.

Frank tore up the stage with every movement he made. He would run behind the drummer and headbang along, or share vocal parts with Gerard at the microphone. He fell down to the ground, laid back down, and did a fucking backflip to get back up. He ran over to where Ray was standing and strummed their guitars with such force, they were going to break it.

Ray's unkempt hair spilled into his face, but he didn't dare reach up a hand to fix it and possibly miss a beat. He shook his head all around and walked around the stage with a sense of control- even walking up to me and playing a few chords in my ear.

But watching Gerard was the true gem. He had a surprisingly good voice, and the way he put passion into every note he sang was truly... magical. He tossed the microphone from one hand to another, and tapped his foot to the beat. His veins in his hand popped from balling them into a fist, and he sank to the ground on his knees to howl out the lyrics. He gestured with his hand what he was saying, and his dark eyes spoke the lyrics just as much as his lips.

The song ends with a drum beat, and Frank tackling Gerard to the ground, playing the final strum kneeling on Gerard's chest.

Ray points to me. "You like?"

My mouth is agape. "Gerard, you told me you sucked!"

Frank puts on a fake look of hurt, "You really said that? That we sucked?"

"Yeah,"

"Guys, that was insane. Like, really good," I compliment.

"Thanks, um." Mikey stutters and fixes his glasses so they don't fall off.

"What are you guys called?" I question.

Ray answers proudly, "My Chemical Romance."

"Cool,"

I stay with the My Chemical Romance guys for the next few hours, and they're incredibly nice. Ray and I become really close friends, and Gerard and I awkward-sing a couple of duets to Blink-182, and we end up collapsing laughing. Mikey seems to communicate more in facial expressions than words but we have a few conversations about a couple random topics. Frank seems k be ignoring me, though. He keeps glaring me down and refusing to talk, which is weird, because he talks to the other band members perfectly fine. Oh well.

Then, I realize I haven't called Emma because D took my phone along with my car, so she must be fucking worried.

Gerard drives me home, and it's mainly in silence, like before. "Thanks for the ride," I say as he starts up the bumpy gravel road to Emma's apartment complex.

Gerard nods. "No problem. Next week then?"

"Yeah." I say, smiling. "Next week,"

(I'm sorry this was so corny! It will be better, I pinky swear. Keep reading and voting c: I love you all!)