Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I know any members of My Chemical Romance. This is purely fictional. It was written by me alone, so please, do not copy it or pass it of as your own.
Email: phixxate@yahoo.co.uk

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Introduction: [Present]

I had always loved you. Every little detail about you struck me as perfect and I could spend hours gazing at you, taking your beauty in. I remember when we first started to tour in our van, back in the days where we had no money. You used to rest your head on my shoulder and whisper to me that we'd make it. I knew exactly what you meant, even though I pretended that your words had a different meaning. You meant the band, not us because, there would never be an 'us.' I had strong feelings for you. Always have, always will. But you didn't feel the same way. I could tell. You were in love with someone else, like I should've been. Sure, I pretended to love my girlfriend but it was obvious that I didn't care for her. To me she was nothing more than a cover up. No one would have suspected me, if I was with someone. I shouldn't have been so confident about it, though. She started to suspect me and sussed me out in the end. I never meant to hurt her, she was a sweet woman. It was just, she wasn't you.

Four years earlier: Bullets Tour

The sun shone violently through the van's dust ridden windows, directly into my eyes. It stung for a moment and I found myself yelling out in pain. Frank let out a child like laugh at my stupidity.

"Gerard you stupid fuck, what the hell you yelling for?"

I couldn't help but smile back at him, as always. I tried to muscle up some sort of explanation but mere laughter passed through my lips. Frank continued giggling before resting his head lightly on my shoulder, whispering to me softly.

"We'll make it Gee, we'll make it." That was the thing I loved most about Frank, his constant reassurance that we'd make it. As always I smile down at him and pretend like I'm grateful, when part of me hates him for it in a twisted way. Why can't he mean it like I wish he does? - - -

For a solo first tour this one was pretty good. Sure, I spent most of it drunk but hey, who can blame me? Alcohol is just about the only thing that keeps my sorry ass alive. That, and shit loads of drugs. I lie to the rest of the band and tell them that it's to help me get over my stage fright. They believe me. Without the alcohol my head is clear and that's one thing I hate. With a clear head I'm forced to face up to the inevitable. The sad, sickening truth of who I am and the fact that the person who made me this way doesn't care for me the way I want him to. So I drink. I drink until I'm puking up in bushes with frank rubbing my back to numb the pain. And I take every fucking pill I can lay my hands on. Sleeping pills, anti depressants, anything. Anything, so long as it takes the pain away. I don't like what I've become, so I have to destroy it as best I can.

Two Years Later: Revenge Tour

It's been over two years since our last tour. As a band, we are a lot more successful now. You can't walk into a record store without seeing our record line the shelves. It's the 'My Chemical Romance explosion.' I'm being thrust into the limelight, portrayed as a hero for teenagers. Deep down I know that it's all really just a lie. If they knew what I have become they wouldn't think of me so highly. That's why I'm still drinking. Before every show, after every show and hell, even late at night on the bus. But it's not just the drink and pills anymore, oh no. I've found cocaine.

- - -

It's been an hour since my last drink and now I'm gagging for some more. What's stopping me? Frank, that's what. He's standing in my way, looking as beautiful as ever, his face riddled with concern and confusion.

"What's going on with you Gerard? You're like a stranger to us all.."

He smiles at me, searching for answers in my eyes. I want to confide in him, tell him everything that plagues my troubled mind but, I can't. I just can't.

"Nothing." I mutter. "I just, I just like drink is all."

Frank began rolling his eyes in what seemed to be disgust. Walking over to me he reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"I love you Gee and I don't want you to hurt anymore. You can talk to me.."

He loves me? Of course he does, as a friend. That's all anyone ever loves me as because I'm such a goddamn fuck up. I look up at frank, tears spilling uncontrollably out of my eyes. I hate him so much right now. That's when I knew what I had to do. Without a word I shot passed Frank and bolted off the bus, without even taking a moment to see his expression. I wish I had but no, I had to rush. I didn't run far, just to the trees in the parking lot. Sheltering myself I dipped my hands into my pocket and pulled out my cocaine. There was enough to last a lifetime bur I snorted it all as quickly as I could. Pain rushed through my nose as blood trickled down to mouth. Too much, that was too much. In my other pocket I find some pills. Only a few that I had forgotten to take. I dry swallow them, hoping, praying that they will be enough. Then I hear voices calling my name. They fade, slowly, slowly, slowly.

When I come to it feels like a lifetime has gone passed but after looking at my watch, I realise that it has only been a minute. It didn't work and, to be honest, I'm slightly glad. Fear has taken over me and now that I have some drugs in me, some reasoning as well. I reach into my trouser pocket and pull out a phone, dialling manically. It rings and I am greeted by the slightly frustrated sound of my old tour manager, Brian.

"Gerard, what the fuck man?"

I start shouting uncontrollably down the phone, spilling my heart out to him about everything. He tries his best to calm me down, his soothing voice coming to me through the ear piece.

"Listen to me now Gerard, okay?"

I slur some words together to let him know that I am.

"Go wake up your tour manager. Wake him up and give him the phone. Can you do that?"

I mumble some garbage as I stumble my way over to the bus, giggling to myself. I clamber on and make my way over to Gerry's bunk, ignoring the troubled faces that I pass on my way. Slapping Gerry lightly, I pass him the phone before collapsing in a heap next to him. Listening as intently as possible, I hear Brian explain everything to Gerry with softened words. Then, Gerry hangs up and gestures for me and him to go for a walk. He takes me out into the parking lot where we talk and talk until I'm too exhausted to continue. Thoughts of suicide leave my mind as I fade into the dark blissfulness of sleep.

One Month Later:

We did the rest of the tour in silence. Every single show was a blur to me. An alcohol induced blur. Once or twice a day someone would try and talk to me but would end up cowering away in fear of sparking me off. I was a joke to them now. Gerry had told them about what I did and they were judging me for it, I could tell. Thank god he hadn't told them everything though. That would surely be the end of me.

- - -

It was on the plane ride home when something began to click my brain. It's a stupid idea, I know but it's one that has the potential to work, surely. Frank has never seen me sober. No one has, for that matter. So, if I sober up, maybe, just maybe, he'll.. Love me? Well, at this stage I'm willing to try anything. Although I must admit, giving up alcohol seems next to impossible. It's for Frank though. It's all for Frank.

Two Years Later: The Black Parade Release

It was all for nothing. Two years. Two fucking years I have been sober for and, for what? Frank, he's engaged. It's obvious to me now that nothing will ever happen between us. He loves her, not me. And I'm happy for him, ecstatically happy, or, so he thinks. My fake smile is so deceiving that he'd never suspect. Over the many years I have become a master at hiding my true feelings from everyone. Everyone that is except, one. Her name is Maddie and, she's beautiful. Well, that's what everyone says at least. To me she's nothing more than a girl, a girl who I'm using to keep my true self hidden. We've been together for years and according to her, we'll be together 'til death do us part. I don't fight her on this, ever. If she wants to believe we have a future, she can. We won't though. I don't intend on having a future with anyone if I can't have Frank. She's started to catch on though. For some reason she can see past my false smile and glazed eyes. I know my falseness hurts her but I just can't help it. I need her to be with me. She's my protection.

5 Months Later: Black Parade Tour:

The U.K is amazing. The kids down here always seem to help momentarily take away my pain. For the short while that I am on stage before them, I'm invincible. I feel like a million dollars as I prance before them, blaring my vocals out in false confidence. They cry, weep and scream for me, as if I am there hero. All I really am is a puppeteer and they, well, they are my puppets. The current show ends and as I'm vacating the stage I cut their strings and watch as they flail without me. I know it's all in my head but by god, I'm loving it. Then everything comes crashing around me. I'm backstage now and I can't pretend anymore. Without my puppets I'm back to being the fuck up I really am.. I

"Gee?"

My hopeless thoughts are cut off by the sweet sound of an old friend.

"What?"

Frank smiles at me in gratitude. Lately I haven't been answering people, you see. Not since Frank got engaged.

"You were amazing tonight, really. I told you, I told you we'd make it. See?"

I smile at him. He's so much like a child, reaching out to his friend. As the sad realisation hits me my face falls.

"Yeah, you always meant the band."

Frank's face spells confusion as he tries to understand my words. He gazes at me, coming over and sitting beside me. That's when I realise that we're alone and that.. That I have to tell him. It's better to die knowing then to die wondering, right?

"Frankie.. Frank. I, I, love you. Always have, always will."

I can't even bring myself to look at him now through disgust in myself. There, I've done it and now I have to get away. Dashing up I go to dart for the door but Frank calls out to me and I just can't bring myself to ignore him anymore. So I turn, face him, and wait for the words that are going to break my heart.

"Gerard.. You're, an amazing man. Talented, Handsome and dedicated. I care about you so much and I love you, as a friend. Gee, I don't think of you in that way and besides, I'm in love already and, engaged. There's never going to be anything between us Gerard. You've got Maddie and I've got Jay. I'm, I'm sorry."

Tears are brimming in his eyes as he tries to make sense of everything. I glare at him, trying to come up with some confident retort but I can't even muster up a goodbye as I scamper out of the door. I slam past fans, friends and strangers as I rush out to the bus. Scrambling through the cupboards on board I search. There's no drugs, no pills and no drink. Nothing. So, I rush to the bathroom, where I find Ray's shaver and a packet of razor blades. I grab the blades and just as quickly as I had come, I leave the bus.

Present: You hurt me, Frank. I loved you to the point of suicide and you hurt me. Do you feel better now? Now that you have shot down your homosexual friend. Does it sicken you when you think about how much I yearned for you? Ha, I bet it did. I bet you cringed at the mere though of being my lover. Well, you won't have to worry anymore. I'm ending it tonight. You could've saved me, you know. Five hours ago when I poured my heart out to you. That was your chance and you blew it. I always knew that you'd never love me but some part of me always had a tiny ray of hope. It doesn't matter anymore though. No, not anymore. Fuck you Frank Iero. I needed you and you weren't there for me. Can't you see how I love you? This isn't just some childish bi-curious crush, this is real love.

I'd tell you how it haunts me, cuts into my day and sinks into my dreams.

Five Hours Later: [Narrative Point Of View] Frank was the one to find Gerard, for, he had been the only one searching. He found him lying in a heap, with blood pouring from his cold, lifeless wrists. It was obvious that he was long since dead but nevertheless, Frank tried as best he could to revive him. That's when he found a small crumpled note, delicately placed in a small pool of blood. He picked it up and tucked it away in his pocket, at the same time pulling out a phone. Dialling 911 he whispered softly to Gerard though a dry mouth.

"We'll make it Gerard. Not the band, us."

Gerard was pronounced dead on the scene. The paramedics zipped him into a black bag and drove away, leaving Frank gazing after them in heartbroken ore. That's when he remembered the note. As he pulled it out of his pocket he felt hot tears streaming down his face. It was a note, from Gerard, to him. He smiled shyly at the sight of Gerard's messy handwriting, wiping his now pouring eyes enough so that he could read the scribbled text.

Frankie, I know that what I told you was a lot to take in, believe me, I know. Please, understand that I never meant to scare you or put you in a difficult position. I had intended to hide my feelings from you forever but, after your engagement it got too difficult. Tonight I remembered something that Brian had told me, two years ago: "Better to regret the things you did do than the things you didn't." Frank, I didn't want to just die, without ever knowing how you felt. I had to take that chance. Although, I always knew that it was a one way love. That's why I drank, took drugs and yes, that's why I attempted suicide before. I know it was selfish of me to tell you and expose my true self to you but I couldn't help it. I've been fighting the urge for years now but sadly, tonight, it got the better of me. I know I'm a despicable, lonely, pathetic excuse of a man for confessing my feelings to you. I never meant to hurt you. Please, understand that. If you find this note, I hope you can muster up some understanding. Don't think badly of me, please. I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. Forgive me? I never meant to think the horrible thoughts I did nor did I mean what I wrote in my lyrics.. I don't hate you Frank. As if I could! Even though you're not mine, you mean everything to me. I love you. You're, my demolition lover and I'm trying, I'm trying, to let you know just how much you mean to me. Oh, how I love you . I always wished I could call you my own. But I was wrong. You're too good for me, you don't love me and, I don't blame you. I'm the world's biggest screw up. Well, at least I get to die knowing that everything I ever hoped for would've always been a fantasy. I love you Frank. I mean this forever. - Gee.

Frank was on the floor now, lying where Gerard had been. He wasn't alone anymore, though. The band had gone looking for him and sure enough, they had found him, calling out to him with worry. He ignored their troubled speech as he lay, muttering the same words over and over. "We'll make it Gerard, we'll make it."