Defy the Laws of Gravity - Page 3 - The Black Parade

Moonshyne · 05-30-2008, 08:31 PM

Poor Nash!! Bob definitely needs to go and get him.

bobsgirlfriend · 05-30-2008, 11:12 PM

since you've all been so good, here's an update! thanks all!

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“God, that was one hell of a show,” Frank said exhaustedly as he finally wiped the dried blood on his nose. His nose was still bleeding during the show, and he had to play with his head raised so high so that it would stop. It did, but he felt very tired right now. He collapsed on the couch in their dressing room with his eyes half-closed.
“You tell me,” gasped Mikey. He was dragging his brand new high-top black Chucks across the room to the bathroom. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days.
“My bones are now liquid,” said Gerard. He was sitting on a stool in front of the mirror. The makeup he was wearing about an hour before was now smeared all over his face. His hair was all over the place, too. He looked like he had just woken up, minus the sweat and smeared makeup, of course.
“My body is the one that feels like liquid,” said Ray, who was sitting on the floor in front of an electric fan. This sent his hair flying in the opposite direction. Plus, his lip still had blood on it, but he didn’t bother to wipe it off. The flying-hair-bleeding-lip combo looked pretty funny, but the rest of the band was just too exhausted to laugh.
Bob was singled out by Brian right after the show because he wanted to talk about the incident before the show, and the reason why there was almost a half-hour delay.
“Explain yourself, Mr. Robert Nathaniel Bryar,” said Brian. He still looked murderous, but his expression had already softened a little.
Bob had never seen that look on Brian before. Yeah, he might have made him angry countless times before, but not as mad as this. He almost regretted buying those packs of cigarettes. He didn’t even smoke before the show tonight. He was just too distracted.
Brian’s stare was boring through Bob, as if he had x-ray vision. It was creepy. Bob looked away before he explained everything. From the getting out of the bus thing to the running into Nash and to the way Nash talked to him and why he had brought him to the stadium in the first place.
“…and then I think we pissed him off with the looks we were shooting at each other so he left,” Bob said. He stopped since he had already explained everything. He never left out a single detail.
Brian thoughtfully scratched his chin.
“Hmmm,” he said, looking very serious. He kept saying this for a while until he broke into the goofy grin, the one he always had before he teased you. “And I still can’t get over the fact that a seven-year-old outsmarted you!” He burst out laughing. This was the funny thing about Brian. This moment, he wants to kill you and then on the next, he’ll laugh at you like you’re the funniest thing in the world.
Bob shook his head. You can never tell when Brian is gonna joke around next. In fact, you can never tell how he feels right now.
“So, you got over being mad about me being so fucking late?” asked Bob hopefully, still not facing Brian.
He could tell that Brian had become abruptly serious even without looking for Brian had suddenly stopped laughing.
“Uh, no,” said Brian, patting Bob hard on the back. “I was just joking around a bit.”
Bob sighed very deeply. This was very typical Brian. He wondered why he still even tries.
“Does this mean I have to be the one to clean the bus up for a week?” asked Bob. Brian was the kind of manager that gave punishments for mistakes.
“Yeah, and what’s more,” said Brian, which made Bob groan loudly, he knew that Brian was gonna make him make up for being late big time. It has never happened before, “you do extra — no, everyone’s — chores for a week, too. Hmm, yeah. That sounds like heaven.”
“Do you have to really kill me?” asked Bob, burying his face in his hands.
“Yes, Bob,” said Brian. “You were never as late as this. In fact, you were never late. You were always punctual. You were always early. You were always —”
“Brian, I get it,” said Bob, getting up. “But don’t tell the guys. I want them to figure out my punishment on their own. They seem to love guessing. And I’m pretty good at not telling.” Bob got up and started heading for the exit when Brian stopped him.
“Not so fast, Bob,” he said, gesturing for Bob to sit down again. Bob did so, although grumpily. “It’s just like you’re saying you’re not gonna do the punishments I gave you. I’m gonna have to tell the band because if I don’t, they’ll clean their own mess which lightens your load by four times. Pretty clever idea, Bob, but no, you’re not gonna hide it from the band.”
Bob sighed. Brian was so right. He didn’t want to tell the guys ‘cause he knew that if he did, they’d deliberately make more mess than usual and he’d have to clean it up. This was going to be one hell of a week. And a hell of a week was usually not the kind of thing Bob could handle.

Later, after all five members have cleaned themselves up and ready to go, they packed all their stuff and shoved it hastily into the bus. It was still raining, but not as hard as it did before. Brian had decided to stay for a little while more ‘cause he still had some stuff to do. Although he was gonna leave first thing in the morning so he could catch up with the band.
“Aren’t we leaving yet?” groaned Frank, a small piece of rolled up tissue hanging from his nose. He was sitting on a dining chair. The bleeding resumed after he showered so he had to keep his head raised and this piece of tissue sticking out his nostril.
“I don’t know,” said Gerard, whose eyes were closed. He was lying on a beat-up couch with his feet up on the arm rest.
“Where the hell is Christian?” asked Ray, referring to their driver. He was on a bean bag in the front lounge, which was his favorite after-show spot.
“Don’t worry, Raymond,” said Chris, who had appeared at the driver’s side suddenly. Only he called Ray by his real name, apart from Ray’s mother of course. “I’m here. Missed me?”
“Hell no,” said Ray.
“Hey, since you’re here, just hit that accelerator and let’s get the hell out of here,” said Mikey, appearing at the door. He was the last to get in. Bob was already at his bunk and ready to doze off.
“All right, let me do the roll call!” Chris yelled, so that the ones at the back could hear. “Uncle Jiggy?” Chris always referred to everyone by their nicknames at roll calls.
“Here, cowboy,” said Gerard in a weird Western accent, without opening his eyes or moving a muscle at all. The band had to make a sound or say words that were related to their nicknames, in case of impostors.
“Good, Torosaurus?”
“You can see me,” answered Ray.
“Just say ‘here!’”
“All right! Here! Rawr!” said Ray, trying to imitate a dinosaur.
“OK, F-Lero?”
“Here, man,” Frank answered exhaustedly, careful to keep his head raised to stop the blood flow to his nose.
“The Wheeze?”
“Here,” said Mikey in a forced wheezing voice, crashing on the couch Gerard was occupying. He hadn’t seemed to notice that there was a human being on it.
“Hey, Wheeze, watch it!” barked Gerard, shoving his brother off him. “You’re not at all that light!”
“Sorry, Uncle Jiggy,” Mikey said in a Western accent that only he and Gerard can do while getting up. His eyes were closed, and he was probably sleepwalking. He went over to another couch, empty this time, and collapsed.
“Now, Bob-o-san?”
All of them heard something that sounded like a faint “Ha-ya!” and great thud from Bob’s bunk in the back, which meant that Bob was there. He got his nickname when a fan sent them a picture of Bob doing a weird jujitsu pose, with Gerard in the foreground in a cowboy hat with an acoustic guitar. That’s where they both got their nicknames.
“OK, now we move,” said Chris, turning on the ignition. They were soon moving down the road.
They haven’t gone about two blocks when they were distracted by a commotion in the road. Chris couldn’t move the bus right through it, the crowd of people was a little too dense. He wanted to turn around, but the road was too narrow, too. They were stuck.
“Hey!” Bob yelled from his bunk, as he might have noticed that the bus stopped. He stuck his head through the curtain. “What’s with the not moving?”
“Check out this crowd,” said Chris, poking his head through the driver’s side window.
Bob jumped off his bunk and headed for a window.
“Oh my God,” he said. “What’s with all these people?” Then he noticed they were crowding around the front of a truck. “What could possibly be interesting in that truck?”
The rest of the band had woken up too. They were shoving each other for the best view on the window.
“What’s that?” asked Frank, elbowing Ray off. Ray elbowed back so forcibly that Frank almost tripped.
“I don’t know,” said Bob, then his insides lurched as the crowd parted in the middle for a moment and Bob saw a blood-smeared hat. A moment was all he needed to recognize it. “Oh shit, it can’t be.”
“What?” Gerard asked. But Bob had already raced to the door, opened it, and dashed out into the rain. He saw that Bob had shoved his way into the crowd and he followed. If Bob went in the rain, it had to be serious.
“Hey! Bob-o-san!” Gerard yelled after Bob. “Wait!”
Gerard had a hard time keeping people off. Apparently, they had recognized him and were now trying to get to him. Gerard hastily told them off and went into Bob’s aide. He could hear yells of, “Somebody call 911!” or “Oh my God!” in the crowd. He was getting worried.
After about five minutes of fan torture, he was able to get to Bob, who was kneeling beside a bloody figure. The figure was lying near the truck, and the truck’s bumper was smeared with a little blood. His insides did a horrible somersault. He, too, could recognize the hat on the figure. And that wasn’t good if you can see that the hat is bloody.
He knelt beside Bob, who was staring in disbelief at the figure lying down and apparently lifeless.

Moonshyne · 05-31-2008, 12:50 AM

Poor Bob, he's in trouble now!! But what about Nash?

*katelyn* · 05-31-2008, 01:31 AM

aw that seems kinda harsh. oh well that's what you get for not going after nash

bobsgirlfriend · 05-31-2008, 01:45 AM

i added some paragraphs after the phrase "not a thing bob could handle."

it's for added suspense. *evil grin* but dont worry, nobody gets killed, except perhaps if bob gives up with the extra chores. lol.

levena93 · 05-31-2008, 11:59 AM

Was it Nash? I think it was. cant wait for another update

*katelyn* · 05-31-2008, 08:04 PM

OH NO NOT NASH! poor kid

lilbit · 05-31-2008, 08:29 PM

NOO!!!!! Poor Nash...it can't be him. Aww

bobsgirlfriend · 05-31-2008, 10:41 PM

It was Nash.
Gerard and Bob were too dumbfounded to move.
Soon, the rest of the guys had raced towards the site of the accident. It seemed that Nash must have been crossing the street when the truck zoomed by and hit him at high speed.
“Oh shit,” Ray gasped when he recognized Nash. Then he raised his voice. “Why the hell isn’t anybody helping?”
Mikey almost hurled. He resisted the urge to gag but turned a little green in the face, covering his mouth with his hand.
“What the f —?” Frank gasped at the sight. “Bob, we need to get him to a hospital, now!”
Instantly, Bob snapped out of it, scooped the little boy in his arms and took him to the bus.
“Should we call 911?” asked Mikey, as they filed into the bus, but all were too shocked to answer yet.
Chris’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of Nash in Bob’s arms.
“Christian! Hospital! NOW!” Bob yelled frantically as he carefully laid Nash on the couch Gerard was occupying earlier. Normally, if anybody else occupied this couch without his permission, he would’ve mangled him. But this was urgent, and he didn’t mind one bit.
Without a word, Chris stepped on the accelerator and the bus was on full speed. But about a few moments after, he turned in his seat and asked loudly.
“Where is the hospital?”
“Ask!” barked Ray. “Look! There’s a resident!” He pointed to a girl in her early twenties who was walking alone down the street. Chris stopped beside her and asked where the hospital was. She lazily pointed down the road and sleepily said, “Down two blocks, left and go on right ahead.” She walked away before Chris even had the chance to thank her. He just shrugged and drove at full speed.
“Don’t worry, buddy, you’ll be alright soon,” Bob said in a soothing voice that the rest of the band hadn’t heard from him yet. He took off Nash’s hat that revealed his now blood-stained blonde hair. He had a large gash on the forehead and a couple more down his arms and legs. His left arm was twisted at an odd angle. He looked bad.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, they arrived at the hospital with Nash in Bob’s arms. He burst into the emergency room and a doctor immediately took Nash.

Later, all five guys were quiet while they were waiting for news. Bob was pacing up and down in the corridor outside the ER. Gerard had gone to get some coffee with Frank, and Mikey and Ray were just sitting looking worried. Bob had already washed off Nash’s blood all over his arms and front. He didn’t want to be reminded of the horrible sight of Nash almost dead.
“If I would’ve known this would happen, I never should’ve just let him go,” Bob said angrily, stomping his foot so hard on the floor that it echoed around the empty corridor. It was very late. “It’s entirely my fucking fault! I’m such an asshole!”
“It’s not, dude,” said Ray. “It was an accident. It was our fault, too, anyway. We were the one who shot the looks that made him leave.”
“Yeah, but if I hadn’t gone down the bus to buy some fucking cigarettes, I never would’ve met him,” said Bob. “And then I’m fucking positive that this would’ve never happened.”
“But if you hadn’t met him,” Mikey spoke up, “then he wouldn’t have met My Chemical Romance. You said he was a fan.”
Bob thought about it. Mikey was fucking right. He always was. Well, that’s another one for the clever group’s baby bassist, and still none for the dimwitted drummer.
Bob remained silent for a while until Gerard and Frank came with their coffee. He was relieved as the hot liquid poured down his insides, warming him. This made him calmer.
Bob stopped pacing, making up his mind. He was very quiet because he had been thinking about how Nash’s foster parents would react. But even if they cared or not, they still had the right to know, and Bob had decided that he was the one to tell them.
“Hey, where’re you going?” Frank called after Bob as he headed for the exit.
“To tell Nash’s parents,” said Bob.
“He has parents?” Bob heard Frank ask. “But I thought he was an orphan?”
Bob ignored Frank’s question as he headed out the hospital. It had stopped raining. Chris had parked the bus right outside the door and was sitting on the pavement when Bob walked by.
“How’s the kid?” he asked.
“No news yet,” Bob said bitterly as he rushed by, his hood up and his hands in his pockets.
“Hey, need a ride?” Chris called after Bob.
“I’ve already caused you too much trouble, Chris,” said Bob, flagging down cab. All Chris could do was shrug as his friend disappeared into the yellow vehicle.

*katelyn* · 05-31-2008, 11:00 PM

tell his parents??!? what good are they gonna do?
shit. amazing update anyway