Disclaimer: I don't own any of MCR. And thanks to Stella for betaing and making rude comments. Send reviews to somethinggothy@aol.com 'cause feedback rocks.

Chapter One: Some Misgivings.

At exactly 4:27 PM on April 10, 2006, something strange happened. Two people, who had never met before, separated by roughly 5 miles of city streets and taxi cabs, happened to utter the same phrase.

"I'm not going." They both had different reasons for not wanting to go. And regardless of who they were, the destination was the same. And as cabs drove past their windows, people lived and died, a strange fate was aligning.

- "I'm not going."

It was as simple as that, he mused to himself, idly twirling a drumstick that had the cover art for several Iron Maiden albums printed on it. He was not going. Sure, it had been five days since Kate broke up with him but after five years, he was allowed to mope and mourn the loss.

Mikey strode across the room and sat next to Gerard.

"Come on. It's not going to be too over-blown. It's an album release party. Just some business people and news people and other people. I think they said it was to 'add depth' to the party or something. And you can always just leave a little early. Say you ate something funny!"

Mikey seemed to think this was a very good idea but Gerard wasn't sure; the press loved to hear people talk and the bigger the name, the better they listened. Although they weren't exactly front-page news, My Chemical Romance had been gaining publicity as their "much anticipated" third album was to be released April 11th. Two days after he turned 29. A full six days after Kate, the supposed love-of-his-life left him. She said the fame was getting to him. That he wasn't the one she fell in love with. That she couldn't relate to him anymore. Seeing as how she didn't seem very affected when she told him she was leaving, apparently they couldn't relate; he cried during all waking hours the next day. Next to him, Mikey sighed.

"At least you'll get out of your room," Mikey said, beginning to leave the room. He lingered in the doorway for a moment.

"I'm going to give you five minutes to make your decision. I'll be in the living room."

And with that, Mikey closed Gerard's door. Gerard looked at the floor for a moment, nudging a small dust bunny with his toe. At that moment, he realized that being a new person, being invigorated and sharp, meant going on with the plans. And going on with the plans meant going to the album release party. And going to the album release party meant getting dressed as the party was set to start at 6:30 and was going to take a good fifteen minutes to get to. Gerard stood, stretched for a moment, and opened his bedroom door.

"Hey, Mikey," he yelled. "I think I'll go. I'll be ready in, like, fifteen minutes."

"That's okay. I'll be here. And I don't think we have to dress formal 'cause I'm going in what I'm in now."

Gerard pictured Mikey in his current attire: black jeans, black shirt, black coat, light grey beanie. Gerard smiled to himself; Mikey was wearing his traditional "uniform". Gerard walked to his closet and started rooting around.

- "I'm not going." Lily stood up and walked over to Amara who was currently flipping through the clothing in Lily's closet at a violent pace. Amara suddenly stood up straight, looking at Lily. She looked at her intently for a moment.

"You're going."

With that, she went back to rifling through Lily's clothes. Lily walked over to her window and stared out into the cloudy New York rush hour. Amara walked over to Lily and held up a few pieces of clothing.

"You're wearing this. See, the red in the shirt matches the red on the hoodie..."

Amara was Lily's best friend and fellow model. However, Amara had yet to really break into the scene. Lily had. Winter of 2005 was the right time to wear black and as black was her signature colour, Lily was quickly put in more magazines. They called her the "Goth model". She loved it. Amara would be on catwalks any day now; Lily was sure of that. Standing just short of six feet with long dark copper coloured hair and skin the colour of ground coffee, she had already gained some comparisons to Iman and the moderate media she got speculated whether or not the child born to Seal and Heidi Klum would look anything like her. It was because of these comparisons that she decided that rock stars and models went together like no other. Seal and Heidi Klum, Iman and David Bowie... there was some sort of destiny for rock stars to marry models and models to love rock stars. Which is why there was no way Lily was going to talk her way out of this party.

Lily looked at the ensemble Amara had chosen for her: black jeans, a crimson tank top with black beading around the bottom hem, all topped off with Lily's favourite hoodie: black with a screening of the cover of Iron Maiden's 'Killers' album on the front. Lily's favourite feature was that it also said "Killers" in red on the back of the sweater so it fell across the small of her back. Lily sighed.

"Fine. You owe me," Lily muttered as she stumbled over the clothing on the floor, fumbling to open the door to her bathroom, entering, and closing the door behind her.

"Oh shut up, you!" Amara yelled through the door. "I owe you nothing! You might meet someone!"

Lily rolled her eyes and she zipped her jeans.

"If only I actually knew who was going to be there!" Lily retorted, yanking off her previous shirt, replacing it with the tank top.

"It's a record release party for My Chemical Romance! You know that!" "I know! I just don't know any of their music! I think I heard they were rock... or punk... or Goth or something! Do you know?"

Lily heard Amara laugh from the other side of the door and immediately know why: Amara insisted Lily was stuck in a time warp. A majority of the music she listened to dated before 1985. And although Lily was only 3 in 1985, some things stuck with her. Her mother listened to Motown; her father listened to British rock. Lily listened to almost anything. The most recent album she owned was David Bowie's 2003 record, 'Reality'. Suddenly, Amara was howling... or so Lily though. She quickly realized what she was hearing was Amara singing... very painfully.

"Whaaat's the worssst thiiing III caaan sayyyyyyy?" Amara wailed.

Lily winced, assuming this was one of My Chemical Romance's songs. All she knew was that her agent told her she was to go to a record release party for a band that used "hot Goth girls" in their videos. It was her calling apparently. Her people knew their people. The rest was history. Amara continued wailing.

"Thiiings aaarrre beeetterrr ifff III ssstttaaaaayyyyy... Sooooo looonngg aaand gooooodniiiightttt... SOOO LOOOOONNNGGG AAANNNDDD GOOOODDDNIIIIIIIGGGGHHHTT!"

Lily was terrified. Amara was clearly disturbed. She walked out of the bathroom, eyebrow raised at Amara, who was currently dancing across the cluttered floor melodramatically, clutching her heart. She stopped in front of Lily.

"Oh, the lead singer is beautiful and you will love him!" Amara whispered dramatically and went back to dancing around the room.

Lily highly doubted she would love the lead singer, let alone anyone else. She wasn't the most trusting of people. Lily plopped down on her favourite piece of furniture: a very cushy crimson suede couch.

"Why will I loooove the lead singer?" Lily asked.

Amara danced over to the couch and plopped down next to Lily.,p> "Because he is one very hot piece of ass. Black hair, these really killer brownish eyes, pale as hell and, oh lord, the rest of him..." Amara swooned momentarily but then quickly sobered. "But it's his brother I want." Lily blanched.

"How do you know his brother?"

"He's in the band, too. Bass. Ooh yeah, that's a real sexual instrument there..." Amara muttered, rising and walking over to the mirror, studying herself out of habit.

"Do you wanna go?" Lily asked. "Fuck my management. Go in my place." Amara spun on the spot.

"Oh no you don't! You're going. I have a good feeling about this for you." Amara said, implying conspiracy.

Lily tossed her head back and rolled her eyes.

"Are you going all voodoo on me, Miss Cleo?" Lily asked laughing.

"Oh shut up!" The phone rang and Lily and Amara both pounced on it, Lily getting it first. It was her agent.

"Lily, love, you'd better be ready for this 'cause I'm sitting in a limo across the street from your place and I'm attracting too much attention. Get your ass down here. And try not to be too obvious. You are not going to be late 'cause of gawkers!"

Lily hung up the phone and quickly shoved her feet into gradually dilapidating black leather boots. Lily's agent, Bill, always complained she was never on time. She'll show him. She walked to the door, opening it, and turning back to Amara and smiling.

"Wish me luck, Miss Cleo! And I'll get the hot bassist's number for ya!" Lily said, closing the door as Amara hurtled a pillow at her, laughing hysterically. Lily rode the elevator down to the lobby, pulled her hood over her head, and rushed across the street into the dry limo. She lowered her hood and looked at Bill, who was grinning like a drunk. Lily looked at him pointedly.

"This better be good."