𓈒 ͜ ︵ ݂ ׁ catering & old romance
contains: three cheers!gerard way x caterer!reader
wc: 1.8k
warnings: implied sex, small mentions of Eliza Cuts & Lynz Way, Gerard is an asshole toward reader, reader is still somehow in love with him, Reader is Mikey’s childhood bestfriend, reader can be read as sex repulsed in a few parts!
A/N: this will be a multi part series!! ; ) plus, Ray is mentioned once or twice for all the people who keep badgering me to write for him, enjoy x
inspired by this monstrosity
You thought being a catering provider for a music venue would be easy enough.. especially for a band like MCR.
It wasn’t even the fact that they seemed like any easy band to cater for, it’s the fact that you had grown up around Ray, Gerard and Mikey in the suburbs of Belleville.
You knew them.. atleast you thought you did.
But apparently, the world decided to prove you wrong one day in 2007–the air outside was crisp as you adjusted your lanyard around your neck; tucking it under the collar of your uniform shirt.
Walking into the venue, the chatter of your coworkers persisted; some catching up, some discussing the bands playing tonight, and others just mindlessly talking.
Your manager had requested you come to her office as soon as you clocked in, worrying in any other line of work? maybe. But in yours? it usually meant you had to pick up a list for the next band playing.
MCR was playing 3 consecutive nights at your venue, which meant they needed a considerable amount of food for their bus and dressing room more than bands only stopping for the day.
When your fist connected with the wooden door of your managers office, you heard her voice tell you to come in, muffled by the wood separating you.
Stepping inside—the first thing you noticed was her less than pleased expression.. some would describe as grim, even, and in that moment you exhaled.
The four pages practically slammed against the table with their thickness; stapled together like that would make it any better for organisation.
“Dear god.. how bad is this going to be?” You questioned, mind already whirling with the possibilities of what could possibly be so specific about the band that there was 3 pages of specific instructions.
“It’s.. well, bless them they tried to be nice and not seem demanding.. but it’s a lot” Your manager muttered, laughing nervously as you picked up the papers.
You opened the paper; the sharpness of it nearly slicing your palm as you folded over the title page, eyes flicking over their requests.
“What the fuck.. sorry- language.. what on earth are these?” You practically exclaimed, and you hadn’t even gotten past the first request.
Your manager began to say something but you practically cut them off; “ONE AND A HALF POUND OF RAW GINGER?!” you did exclaim then, voice echoing off the walls of your managers office.
She only laughed before excusing you with the company card; placing the amex in your hand as you clutched the papers under your arm.
In the store parking lot, you held onto the wheel, debating whether not completing this absolutely stupid order was worth getting fired for.
Nonetheless, you stepped out of your car, grabbing a cart and letting out what may have been the deepest breath you’d ever taken in your life.
Getting all of the items was one of the most humiliating experiences of your life.. What normal person buys Salami, Ham, Cold-Eeze gum & a half pound of ginger in one shopping trip?
Certainly not anyone normal, that’s for sure.
The vegan selection made you laugh at the remark of “I think potatoes are okay though.”
At least whoever made this had a sense of humour. Flipping to the last page, you practically laughed at the amount of cereal they wanted.. Thank god for Costco.
Arriving back at the venue with almost 9 shopping bags full of miscellaneous bullshit and trying to carry them in was also the worst experience of your life, you didn’t even want to think about what combinations they could possibly be making with these.
In the kitchen of the venue, you braced yourself on the counter at the specific amounts of meat needing to be bagged and iced.
By the time everything was prepped, labelled and sectioned, you felt like you needed 6 cigarettes and just as many beers as a reward.
Your phone buzzed with a text from your manager, pulling it from your pocket you were faced with something you usually didn’t do; going to the bands bus.
The lots they were in were listed, so atleast you didn’t hunt them down.. but in that moment, you seriously wondered why you applied for this job.
All of the cereal, fake meat & bread were going to two separate busses meaning you had to make sure none of the fake meat got mixed in with the bags made for the real meat.
The bags were chafing against your hands as you lugged them through the parking lot of countless busses, your eyes finally landed on the two plots; five and nine.
Could this band be any more awkward? You questioned to yourself.
The bags collided with the concrete as you set them down, knocking on the door; they were definitely in, judging by the sound of people shuffling around inside.
A disheveled looking man pulled open the door of the bus in a huff, black hair pushed back from his forehead; his eyes raked over you for a second too long, for your liking at least, you recognised him, a boy you had grown up with in New Jersey many years ago.. Gerard.
“Sorry- uhm.. i’m with the venue? your bus requested catering.. it’s all in these bags..” You mumbled, heaving the bag up in the air as your wrist protested.
“Oh. Yeah uhm. Jus’ leave ‘em there.” He gestured to the steps in front of you; seeming completely disinterested in your presence.
“Ah- uhm.. alright.. this is the cereals and cheese lean pockets.. i think the fake meats are going to the bus in lot ni-“ You were only attempting to check you had gotten it all correct, but the door was promptly slammed in your face.
Jesus, what a dick.
The bus in lot 9 was a lot more nicer, but the encounter from earlier had made your chest burn, tears brimming in your eyes as you trudged over with the remaining bag.
The man who answered the door this time was considerably nicer, and taller.. dark brown locks covered by a beanie; glasses perched on his nose.
“Oh! hey- your manager said you might be coming- woah.. are you like.. alright..?” He questioned, worry painting his features.
You recognised him in that moment, Mikey Way, the boy you had set next to in science all those years ago, he was considerably taller now, and prettier..
“Uh- yeah.. sorry, these are the bags with most of the vegan things in them..” You chuckled, but your voice wavered on a few words, still desperately fighting back tears.
“Wait- Y/N?” Mikey chuckled, stepping down from the bus to embrace you in a tight hug; you let out a wet laugh, hugging him back as his hands found their place in your hair like they used to so many ears ago.
“Hah.. hey mikes, how’re you doing? good, i’d hope..” You stepped back, a smile painting your features now.
You and Mikey continued to talk as you helped unpack the rest of the things, he explained most of the vegan things were for frank, his bandmate, which made a lot more sense.. growing up with the way brothers, you had known how much they devoured steaks when they could get them.
A comfortable silence settled over the two of you before Mikey piped up again.
“What had you so down before you came over here?” He asked, patting the seat next to him on the couch; you could only sigh before sitting down.
“Uh- it’s gonna sound really stupid, Mikes.” You giggled softly, looking at him with an unreadable expression.
“Nah- it won’t.. i’ve said plenty of stupid shit in m’ life.. you know that.” He replied, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he probed you to continue.
“It’s your brother, i knocked on the door of his bus and he practically slammed the door in my face when i tried to check i had the right bus..” You explained, an unsure expression replacing the previously unreadable one.
“God.. i swear when i get my hands on him i gotta shake some damn sense into him..” Mikey began, rolling his eyes, as his annoyance with his brother growing as he continued.
“He’s been goin’ through some shit with this crazy ex of his— some girl none of us really knew.. her name is Eliza, she’s fuckin’ insane.” He affirmed, a soft look settling over his face when he smiled at you.
“He’s got a new girl now.. some girl from another band but she’s a whole other can of worms-“ Static settled in your ears as Mikey continued, your heart beating in your throat.
You see, you had always had a crush on Gerard, ever since you met Mikey in grade school, but Gerard never seemed to like you, not at all.
Before you knew it, you were back in the kitchen of the venue, presumably having ended the conversation with Mikey in an effort to forget your feelings once more.
A few hours had passed by the time your manager texted you to bring most of the foods out to the dressing room for the band; meaning you’d have to face Gerard once more.
This time, your nerves were a little less intense than knocking on the door of the busses; but it didn’t mean your heart wasn’t thrumming in your chest.
You balanced the platter of meat in your hand, the other raising to knock on the dressing room door.
But the sounds you heard inside made you want to throw up, it sounded like sex, and it most likely was; you assumed it was nothing, maybe a shitty movie one of them was watching.
Until you heard it, Gerard’s name being said by a female voice, her voice was cracked and full of need; followed by the lewd sound of skin slapping.
In a rush, you spun on your heel, walking back to the kitchen quicker than you probably needed to; almost bumping into Mikey and Ray in the halls.
Stopping to talk to them, you half heartedly chided that Gerard was getting it on with someone in their dressing room and maybe it was best to steer clear for now.
To which, Mikey and Ray both burst into a fit of giggles and laughter, and you did too.
They both stopped as Ray peered around you, watching Gerard, and who you assumed was his new girlfriend stumble out of the room in such a mess it was almost, almost laughable.
But in that moment, Gerard stared at you, eyes raking over you once again, recognition dawning on his face; that familiar expression quickly taking over.
The butterflies in your stomach made you want to vomit again, Mikey and Gerard looking at you knowingly.
They had both always known you had a thing for the older Way brother, relentlessly teasing you for all of your teenage years about how stupidly in love with him you were.
And in that moment, you knew you were fucked, incredibly and irrevocably fucked.
