idk what this is, to be honest. I’ve had it written for a minute, got around to rereading and fixing today at random, thought it was decent enough to post. I suppose we can say it could be a series.
And now, a bit of background? This is (I guess) a made-up MCR tour in which Y/N is the guitarist for G Way’s (fictional) wife’s band.
a small but important disclaimer: I get why this storyline might suggest a connection to Lindsay but this is purely something that came out of my brain; I’m not here to comment on their relationship, and anything here that resonates with something in their real life is unintentional, even if this did start loosely based on Gerard Way’s life as it’s known publicly.
It starts with Lana and her band; I’m catching up to them in New Orleans.
They’re opening for us on the new tour; we left everything, our house, our kid, the relative sanity of staying in one place…I’m still not okay about it, but when she insisted we needed the money, I really couldn’t argue.
Lana wanted a new guitarist; after the mess with the last one, I’d hoped it’d be a girl. And it was.
They’d started the tour on their own; I’d had to stay home, looking for someone to babysit, eventually convincing my parents to come down and stay with Hayley, though Lana yelled at me for it, said it shouldn’t have been them, that we should have found someone else…I couldn’t tell her we couldn’t afford to.
The first time I saw Y/N was late one night when I slipped in to watch their show.
I’d been away so long, I hadn’t heard anything, hadn’t heard of the mess that had already been made, hadn’t realized anything was wrong.
She comes down from the stage sometime around the middle of the set, seething, hair all over her face, hiding her eyes, the only giveaway to her anger the way she flies off, down, almost tripping on the stairs.
I steady her, instinctively. “Are you okay?”
She’s still, for what feels like forever and no time at all, but then she’s gone without a sound, like she was never there, and I spend the rest of the set worrying about it.
“Lan, what happened up there?” I know I shouldn’t ask her this the moment she’s coming off the stage, but I can’t stop thinking of that kid.
She sighs, rolls her eyes. “Nothing. Y/N’s just an annoying little bitch, can’t be normal to save her fucking life…”
“She’s just a kid. Don’t you remember what it was like?”
I’d wanted to run from the stage so many times; when I felt overwhelmed, when things went wrong, when the high took me down, made me feel like I was about to die, the lights so bright I could barely see, barely breathe…it was never easy.
“She’s not that deep, Gerard. She’s just trying to fuck with me because we had a fight last week. I should just fucking fire her…”
“Would you have liked me to fire you?” The words are out before I can think them through, sharper than I should be, inviting a fight; we’re still at the venue, why the fuck don’t I ever think?
Sometimes, I wish I’d fired her then; I try not to, hate that I still think that way, that everything is so hard even now, that I’m not better, even after all this time…that I’m probably never going to be better.
I do something I shouldn’t; turn and leave, realizing I don’t want to do this now, don’t have to do this now…knowing she can’t follow me, because she has to greet fans.
I’ve already got my own room, separate from Lana’s, and that’s where I’m headed; blow off some steam before she gets back, to either torment me for the little scene back at the venue or drag me out to dinner…most likely, though? It’ll be both, and I’ll wish I hadn’t come…the rest of the guys are only joining us right before our first concert.
I see that girl then, still wearing the clothes from the show, lying on her back on a loveseat in the lobby, guitar on the floor, reading.
I know it’s a bad idea, but I turn and go her way, thinking I need to check on her, but also that I have no idea what happened tonight, and I should probably find out; Lana will never tell me now.
She starts, sits up in a flash, dropping the book, but then recovers. “Hey.”
“Would you mind if I talked to you for a minute?”
She shakes her head, slides sideways to give me room; I pick up her book, look it over…a rockstar book.
I bite my lip on a smirk, thinking I get where her look comes from; I had that phase, where I wasn’t entirely sure what I was up to, so I borrowed and borrowed until it fit…to eventually become me.
“So…is this your favorite?”
She’s wary, but after a moment, she relaxes slightly. “One of. Why?”
“No reason, it’s just interesting. What else do you like?”
“The more you know, the better.”
She straightens slightly, less on guard. “I’m sorry I didn’t…I’m sorry I ran away like that, earlier…I’m not all that good at being human.”
“I don’t think anyone really is. What happened, though?”
She sighs. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“Last week somewhere, Lana did something and I went off, we had a fight, and then tonight, it just…I felt like I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t have left in the middle of the set either, but sometimes I just can’t control myself…”
I bite my tongue on the admission that Lana can’t do that, either. “It happens.”
She laughs, too bitter for someone so young. “Yeah, but so what? I’m not supposed to let my feelings get in the way.”
“Feelings are always in the way.”
This makes her look back at me, silent now, and I’m thinking I hope she doesn’t go, when all hell breaks lose…Lana, coming at the two of us, still dressed as she’d been at the venue, no discretion, despite my always telling her to not draw attention to herself between shows…about to do even more of that.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!”
“Lan, calm down.” I hold her back, though we’re too close already, people are staring, why doesn’t she ever think of what this looks like?
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! This little bitch ruined my set, yet still has the gall to sit here talking to you…”
“I was sitting here talking to her…Lana, please, don’t do this.”
The last thing we need is a scandal a week before the tour.
“Don’t get in my way, Gerard! This isn’t any of your fucking business…”
I’m so distracted, she slips off me when Y/N goes for the elevators.
“Aren’t you going to apologize to me?”
They’re in each others’ faces, I might as well be invisible.
“For not playing along with your bullshit?”
“You’re a stupid little slut…you’re nothing.”
“At least that makes me not you.”
Lana doesn’t follow; everyone’s staring, some people with their phones out, filming every second…then Lana’s moving back to me, and I know she wants me on her side, but I can’t, won’t…not again.
I’ve done that too often, to my detriment, to hers too, because I give her too much.
“I don’t want her here, Gee. We need to…”
“We don’t need to anything. You said this wasn’t my problem, so it isn’t…deal with it yourself.”
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