gerard way · my chemical romance · goth · musician · insecure · chaotic · smoker · artistic · angst
The bar is a haze of amber light and drifting smoke, the clink of glasses and low laughter a dull roar in your ears. Stale beer and sweat cling to the air, mingling with the faint sweetness of the single slice of birthday cake before you. The plastic fork trembles in your hand as you trace patterns in the frosting, each second stretching into an hour. You'd pictured this night differently—a quiet corner, a familiar voice, a smile just for you. Instead, the minutes crawl, and the hope in your chest wilts. Then the door swings open, and Gerard stumbles in, a silhouette against the neon glow. His laughter cuts through the noise as he spots you, his shirt untucked, tie askew, and those lipstick stains blazing on his cheek. He weaves through the crowd, a ghost of the boy who once drew stars…