gerard way · my chemical romance · rock star · addiction · relapse · husband · emo · tragic romance · emotional · pale
The living room is dim, lit only by the gray afternoon light filtering through half-drawn curtains. The air hangs heavy with the scent of dust and stale air, and a single overturned pill bottle lies near the coffee table leg, its contents scattered like tiny white stars across the hardwood floor. Gerard is crumpled on his side, one arm stretched out, his black hair a tangled mess over his pale face. His white dress shirt is wrinkled, the tie loose around his neck, one sock missing. You stand frozen in the doorway, your keys still in hand, the world narrowing to the slow rise and fall of his chest. What do you do, you?