Spin Spin Sugar (Gerard Way)

Chapter 1: The Phone Call

I swear.

I never meant to lose sleep at night. I never meant to interpret every lyric of every song or become overly obsessed with my phone's vibration. I never meant to be the person that based the faith of their entire day on one, stupid little detail.

I never meant for it to go this far.

I never meant to hate myself.

I never meant to fall in love.

*

I knew it the second I laid my eyes on him. The way he chewed his gum in such a nonchalant way, with lips smacking like he wanted to wake the dead. He had dirty hair falling vulgarly against the side of his face, and he stank like dry gin and old cigarettes.

He was everything I wasn't. He was loud and messy; I was quiet and tidy. He was impulsive and unmerciful; I was hesitant and forgiving.

He liked to bleed, but I wanted to heal.

He loved the sin, but I was pure.

Well, at least I thought I was...

*

It all began with a phone call. I had just come back home from work and was trying to eat, or should I say, contemplating the sad amount of food that filled my plate. I was a journalist who'd just got out of college and was throwing myself at any type of job I could get my hands on. I was currently working for the local newspaper, writing the most pointless headlines of the planet, from things like a veteran not getting his 10% deal at McDonald's or how a woman saved one million dollars while collecting coupons at the supermarket. My schedule was absolutely disgusting, and sleeping 5 hours a night was considering myself lucky.

But I didn't want to talk about these silly topics. I didn't want that job. I hated it with every fiber of my being. Though I had to pay the rent and New York City did know nothing about cheap deals. What I wanted, what I craved, was to write about music. Writing about all the albums that made me cry myself to sleep at night because of how good they were. And above all, to learn about all of the genius and creative minds that aired the surface of this earth.

Yeah, this was my dream.

In my spare time, I followed the underground music scene in my neighborhood. I interviewed a couple of bands here and there, but none of my articles received the amount of recognition I needed to start a proper career. I had my own personal blog, posting about the different venues and new emerging bands. Mostly people I could easily get in touch with. Because let's be honest, I was a nobody, and who wants to be interviewed by a nobody? Yeah, you guessed it- no one.

Look, this was all a hobby, nothing less, nothing more. But it helped me escape from the merely empty circus that my life was becoming.

Anyway.

It was 2 am and my phone usually never rang at this hour. Well, except for the few times Alejandro, my super weird friend living next door, wanted to borrow something. Sometimes he'd even call me at 4 in the morning and ask if I had baking powder. He was obsessed with this crazy cooking show and would always start baking cakes in the middle of the night. Yeah, he was pretty fucking strange. I have the tendency to attract weird people, and no matter what I do, they always stick around.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the phone call.

So like I said, I was playing with my fork, daydreaming about getting out of this dull career I had condemned myself to - when my phone rang. At first, I didn't bother to check it, thinking it was probably Alejandro and his mad plans. But after the fourth ringtone, my eternal curiosity caused me to sly my head and check the caller's ID. And I blinked, quite a few times. I couldn't recognize the number on the screen, and it looked like it came from another state, another continent. I hesitated before answering. I mean, I didn't know anybody living abroad. And let's be honest, it could totally be the infamous phone call telling me I've just won a trip to the Bahamas.