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Faded hopes and Shredded dreams	By : Mordeo Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 2006 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of My Chemical Romance. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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When I first met Gerard, I was nineteen years old, and I thought he was a God. I had never believed in much of anything, but then I began maturing. I saw men. I saw actors, and actresses, and I fell in love with things. My obsessions. Labyrinth, Phantom of the Opera, David Bowie, Pirates of the Caribbean, Lord of the Rings, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Harry Potter, Jason Isaacs, Captain Hook… and Gerard. Gerard would prove to be my last obsession. But who was I to know?
My friends liked him first, and I turned up my nose. They obsessed, and I liked other things. Then out came his band, My Chemical Romance, with their third CD, The Black Parade. And the title track was gorgeous. At first, I just listened to him, and I would start crying for no apparent reason. Then I looked for pictures, and videos, and interviews. I lost whatever my obsession was before I found him. I couldn’t even remember what it was. I was up until two and three in the morning trying to learn more. And when I went to sleep, I dreamt of him. Inane little dreams of ordering hats, or taking boat rides. I was nineteen, and, though I thought I knew it all, I was, really, mostly still innocent.
After months of silently worshipping him and his band, I finally told my friend, and she gave me copies of their first two CDs. And then I decided I wanted to see them in concert. We planned and plotted, begged and pleaded, and finally convinced her parents to let us go. Mine were fine with it, but this concert was on a Wednesday, and she would have school the next day. We finally convinced them to let us go, and I worked hard to gain the money to pay her back, shamelessly flirting with all the men and women at renaissance fairs that I worked at. The night came, and I put on the clothes I’d chosen months ago, ripped knee jeans, the tightest I had, light blue and very soft, from much wearing. A black, semi sheer long sleeved top, with sequins, and ruffles, unbuttoned to show some cleavage. A belt, velvety and dark, but with a gold buckle. My black boots, and my cape from fair to finish it off. I even dyed my hair black, even though his was white as it could go at the time. We went, and though we were seated far to the rear of the concert hall, a few times of flashing our breasts, and we had prime seats. First row and all. It was Las Vegas, after all, and everyone could be bribed in one way or another. They came on and started singing, and I was afraid my eyes would dry up if I didn’t blink soon. Then I didn’t have to worry anymore, as I was crying. Thank God for water proof mascara. Gerard took a short break and walked to the side of the stage to get a drink, muttering something to the security officers positioned at the entrance. He nodded at us, and the officers grinned and left. My friend and I thought that he was just remarking on the huge crowd, but no. Officers came a few moments later, and we were sure we were screwed. We’d been caught making our way to the front. They dragged us off to the side, away from the noise, and closed us into a small room. I kept apologizing to Amy, me the risk taker who had the bright idea of flashing the guards. Our parents would kill us.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened. I’d closed up my shirt, hiding my cleavage, and put up my hair, trying to look a little more responsible. When Gerard came in, I flushed with sudden waves of hot and cold. Amy’s jaw dropped. Mine stayed closed, but I looked towards my toes, my eyes beginning to brim with tears. He’d told girls at his shows not to flash people for back stage passes. What we’d done was hardly any better. Even if we had done so without being asked. And I just knew we were going to get scolded by he whom I respected so much.
He smiled crookedly when he looked at Amy, then frowned a little as he turned his gaze to me. He beckoned to the guards, then asked, his voice hoarse after his singing, “Is that the right chick?”
“Yeah. She cleaned up a little since we brought her in, though.” The one guard replied. Gee smiled, looking relieved, and sent the guards out of the room.
“Why don’t you take down your hair and open your shirt back up? You’re not in any kind of trouble.” He added, seeing the doubt on our faces.
“What are we doing here, then?” I asked, doing as he’d said.
“I have a question to ask of you girls. A few, actually.” His voice was returning, and his eyes were kind of hooded, but I thought he looked gorgeous, even under the stark fluorescent lights.
“Yes?” Amy breathed behind me, and I nodded in agreement.
“Firstly, what are your names, ages, and home towns?” Amy was absolutely shaken, her mouth moving, but no words coming out.
“I’m Hannah. This is Amy. We’re nineteen, and from Vegas.” Gerard nodded as though we’d only confirmed what he already knew.
“And my other question is, what does this smell like?” Two firm hands wrapped around my head, one holding the back of my head, the other forcing a damp rag over my nose and mouth. My eyes rolled wildly in my head as Amy slumped into the arms of a body guard, and my eyes landed on Gerard, standing before me.
Through the drugs, I managed to mutter something. I’m pretty sure it was, “why me”, but it could have been anything.
Gerard’s eyes widened, and mine drooped closed.
I fell into a comforting blackness amidst the chaos, and stayed there for a long time.

A/N: I know, I know. I'm supposed to be working on Sherard's unholy union, but I ran into a writer's block on that one, and this one's plot bunnies won't leave me alone. So I'll leave you with a few chapters to see you through the weekend and work on ofe of the two next week. 'Kay? As always, reviewers are worshipped.
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Faded hopes and Shredded dreams