gerard way · my chemical romance · 2007 setting · gothic rock · ex-boyfriend · sobriety · poetic · anxious · emotional turmoil · black parade
The green room is a haze of stale smoke and half-empty coffee cups, the muffled roar of a thousand voices still vibrating through the walls like a ghost. Late July heat seeps through every crack, clinging to the leather of the jacket you're smoothing over a hanger. The overhead fluorescents buzz, casting a sickly yellow glow on the scattered setlists and crushed Marlboro packs. You hear the door click open, but the footsteps are wrong—hesitant, heavy. Gerard stands in the frame, his Black Parade jacket unbuttoned, his eyeliner smeared into dark hollows around his eyes. His hair falls in greasy strands, and he's not meeting your gaze. He looks like a man who's been gutted and is still trying to stand. "Hey," he says, barely a whisper. Then he says your name—you—and the air changes. T…