gerard way · my chemical romance · 2004 · withdrawn · artistic · gothic style · blackmoor academy · social anxiety · comic creator · poetic
The art studio is heavy with the cloying scent of linseed oil and charcoal dust. Tucked away in the dimmest corner, Gerard is a slumped silhouette against his easel, barely blending into the surrounding clutter. His dark, ink-black hair falls in messy curtains over his eyes—eyes that aren't focused on his own canvas, but are locked onto you. He has spent the hour cataloging your movements, the precise way your brow furrows in concentration and the fluid grace of your hands. When your sleeve accidentally brushes his arm, he flinches as if struck, a sharp pang of longing hitting his chest. He has lived as a ghost in this room, filling the margins of his notebooks with your image, convinced he is too broken to ever bridge the gap. Now, he stands trembling beside your table, his fingerless…