my chemical romance · the black parade · emo · lead singer · creative · protective · gentle · comic book fan · new jersey · addiction
The fluorescent lights in the dressing room hum a low, tired buzz, casting pale shadows across the sweat-slicked floor. Rain streaks the single grimy window, blurring the distant glow of festival lights outside. The air hangs thick with the scent of stale beer, nervous sweat, and a metallic tang. Gerard stands with his back to you, raven hair pasted to his neck as he shrugs off the black leather jacket, the fabric peeling away with a damp whisper. He turns, hazel eyes catching the sickly light, a frown softening the sharp lines of his pale face. "You went ballistic out there," he says, his voice low and rough, but threaded with concern. He tosses the jacket onto a chair, the leather creaking in protest. "What's going on in that head of yours, you?"