Breaking Hearts Still Looks Pretty Cool

Part 8

  Within a few hours, it was like I had regressed several years; we all had. We were sitting around on the modest couches chatting and laughing raucously just like old times; it was like nothing had changed. The moment that thought crossed my mind, though, I regretted it. I chanced a glance at Gerard, who was sitting opposite me. On the bright side, I didn't have to endure the torture and distraction of sitting next to him, with the opportunity for our sides to brush thrillingly; on the slightly less bright side, he was directly in front of me, so there was a constant risk of accidentally meeting his eye.

"SO," said Annabelle loudly, thus ending a conversation about what Frank might do if he was trapped on an island with no companions other than a few camels, "when do you guys have your first show?" she was sitting on Mikey's lap, looking as youthful as ever,

Mikey grinned wryly and studied my face; I'm sure I looked just as excited. "Is the translation for that question 'when can we finally meet Green Day?'" he asked, looking from me to Annabelle,

"Well," said Annabelle, smiling so widely at me that half her face seemed to be taken up, "it certainly would be great to meet them..." she winked at me and we both burst into a fit of giggles.

Everyone laughed at our girlishness, and for a fleeting second, I thought I saw an odd glance pass between Bob and Annabelle. I shook my head slightly, and turned my attention back to Mikey, who had started speaking, his gaze fixed on me.

"Well, you're in luck girls, because our first show is tonight!" he looked a heady mixture of terrified and excited.

Annabelle squealed, clapping her hands together like a little child.

I chuckled at her behaviour, and then addressed the boys.

"You've already met Green Day," I observed, feeling like an obsessed little fan-girl, "what are they like?" I tried not to look too enthralled, but it was barely concealable.

Frank laughed, "they're really great guys," he said, "you'll see,"

"Have you spent lots of time with them?" demanded Annabelle, "are you like, really good friends?"

The guys all looked incredibly amused, all of them either chuckling, shaking their heads as they grinned, or laughing raucously, as Bob was. "We haven't known them a long time," he said, still laughing, "But we've been out with them a few times, had a few heart-to-hearts, we get on well,"

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

Personally, I didn't understand how they could be so casual. They were on speaking terms with Green Day, and they were acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. My legs were shaking at the mere thought that I would have the chance to meet Green Day just that evening!

"I'm SO excited!" yelled Annabelle in a squeaky voice, bouncing up and down on Mikey's lap in what I'm sure was a painful way.

I was grateful; for once, I had something to distract me from the perpetual threat of thinking about Gerard.

"I'm so nervous, I'm so frickin' nervous," Annabelle muttered as we walked down the slightly shabby corridors that wound around the back of the venue like a poorly lit rabbit warren. We had shyly flashed our backstage passes at the intimidating security guard, much to the envy of the screaming girls waiting by the backstage door, we had looked on the crumpled piece of paper detailing the dressing room they would be in, and now we were standing opposite it with looks of awe on our faces.

A scrap of light yellow paper was taped to the door, with 'MCR' written on it.

"Don't be nervous," I told Annabelle matter-of-factly, "it's just the guys, we're not meeting Green Day just yet,"
Annabelle drew in a deep breath, and nodded, "good point," she said, "I'll save my crippling nerves for when I really want to make a fool out of myself,"
I laughed at her sarcasm, suddenly coming over all nervous myself. I knew it had nothing to do with Green Day, wherever they were, and everything to do with a certain person sitting inside the room I was about to enter.

"Let's go," I said, my voice moving way too fast for the rest of my body. By the time we walked briskly into the room, my heart was still doing ludicrous flip flops for no apparent reason.

"Oh," said Annabelle in an awkward voice, "hi,"

"Hi," I added shyly.

There were not just five people in the room. There were eight of them.

I exchanged a glance with Annabelle; she looked as white and terrified as I felt.

Gerard laughed his beautiful and resonant laugh that somehow made me forget that I was standing in the same room as Billie Joe Armstrong, Tre Cool and Mike Dirnt.

"These are our friends," he said by way of explanation, "The redhead is Annabelle, Mikey's girlfriend,"

"Hey," said Annabelle, jerking her hand up into an awkward wave.

"And the..." he paused, looking at me as though he could not think of an appropriate adjective, "other one is Connie, she's Frank's cousin,"

For some reason I felt stung. He had merely introduced me as Frank's cousin, as if I hadn't been friends with all of them (bar Bob) for years, as if he had never told me that he would love me for always, as if we had never spent hours alone just lying together.

Maybe the pain showed on my face, because Mikey added "she's been one of our best friends for years," hastily.

I shot him a grateful smile that bordered on happy and turned back to Green Day just in time to see them exchange significant looks with each other.
"Hey Connie," said Billie Joe, and when he said my name I felt as though my stomach had just fallen out. Annabelle looked at me, half-jealous, half-excited.

"Um...hi," I said tentatively. Annabelle and I were still standing awkwardly in the door way, so Mike gestured for us to sit down on two slightly broken-down chairs situated right in the middle of where everyone else was sitting. We looked at each other again, completely star struck, and took our seats.

"We've heard so much about you," said Tre, apparently still addressing me,

I looked quickly back towards the guys, who were all piled onto a tiny couch, and then back at Tre.

"You have?"

Mike nodded, "and you too, of course Annabelle," he nodded courteously to her.

'This is beyond surreal,' I thought.

I glanced back towards my old friends once again. Gerard was imperceptible, his face like a pale mask of indifference. I scolded myself for even entertaining the mere idea that he could have talked about me to Green Day.

There was a slightly tense silence for a few minutes, before it was suddenly broken by a hard rapping on the door.

"My Chemical Romance," said the bland voice, "onstage now, please,"

They all exchanged excited, nervous looks, and jumped to their feet.
"LET'S DO THIS," yelled Frank.
"Good luck cuz," I said quietly, pulling him into a tight hug, "I'm so proud of you,"

He grinned widely back at me, "thanks,"

"Aww," interjected Mikey, "I don't want to interrupt the soppy twin stuff, but can I have a good luck hug too?"

I chuckled, wondering if he had even said anything to Annabelle yet, "yes, of course," I answered, and he didn't hesitate to take me into his arms for a friendly hug.

"Hey! I want one too!" demanded Ray, giving me a one-armed hug due to the fact that he was still holding his guitar.

It was like a bizarre hug queue, with Ray going on to hug Annabelle, who was standing next to me. Bob was next, and he shrugged at me as if to say 'why not?' We hugged briefly, and then I looked down to cover my blush, knowing who would be next...

"Good luck Gerard," I said quietly, still not looking up. I stepped forward, and as a result awkwardly crashed into his chest.

"Thanks," he said, sounding a lot more composed than I felt. Then he did something that made my heart go wild. He wrapped his arms around me in an intimate, enveloping hug that I never thought I would experience again. I felt sure that he could feel my heart hammering in my chest it was so out of control, but even that didn't matter, because I was in his arms again – and then it was over.

He looked at me as we broke apart, and I thought that our eyes were locked for a little longer than usual, but he turned away so quickly I couldn't quite be sure.

"Good luck guys," Green Day chorused, and they all stood up to bestow man-hugs on our guys. Each of them whispered something in Gerard's ear, setting my mind alight with curiosity. I could tell that Annabelle was straining her ears to hear, but I knew that she wouldn't have heard anything.

"Don't worry about watching from the side," shouted Mikey, poking his head around he door, bass in one hand, "you get to know our new friends," he winked, and shut the door after himself.

"Well," said Billie Joe, sitting back down again, lazily running a hand through his black hair. He was better looking in person than in any picture I had ever seen. Taking in the sight of one of my favourite bands sitting in front of me was almost too much to bear, and judging from Annabelle's wide-eyed expression, she felt the same way.

Fortunately, we were spared from coming up with something engaging to say, because Billie Joe continued.

"It certainly is night to meet the girls who rule My Chemical Romance's hearts,"

Annabelle giggled embarrassedly, looking oddly guilty as she fiddled with her hair. I probably just looked as disbelieving as I felt, but I didn't feel the need to verbalise it. In fact, I didn't even want to think about it. Maybe once I had ruled Gerard's heart, but I certainly didn't any more.

"Don't look so sceptical darling," said Tre, clearly addressing me, "I think that they care about you more than you know,"

"Since when were you so philosophical?" I asked sarcastically, and they all dissolved into fits of laughter.
"He was right about you," said Mike, "but you're even prettier than he said you were,"

"Which one?" demanded Annabelle excitedly; glancing at me with a look in her eyes that practically screamed 'matchmaker,'

I knew which one I wanted it to be; but I knew that Gerard would never tell anyone anything about me. He felt nothing for me.

"Oh my goodness!" said Tre loudly, "look at the clock, we're going to need to start getting ready if we're going to be on stage in time,"

I glanced frantically around the room, now desperate to satisfy my curiosity. I knew deep down that Gerard would not have even spoken a single word about me, but an annoying part of me just wouldn't stop hoping; the same part that refused to stop doing metaphorical somersaults when he walked into a room.

"There isn't a clock," I said, voicing an observation that I had just made,

"All the more reason for us to leave," said Mike, exchanging a significant look with his band mates, "they're going to go to our dressing room to give us our five minute call and we need to get ready,"

'Maybe I'm reading too much into it,' I thought to myself, wondering if Annabelle was thinking the same, 'they probably do really need to get ready,'

"I take ages to do my eyeliner," Billie mused without a hint of irony, and then they all began to walk out of the poky little room.

"It was great to meet you," said Mike, as they hovered at the doorway to say their goodbye,

"Really great," added Tre as Billie Joe nodded,

"I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of you," he commented, and with that, they shut the door with a snap.

Annabelle's mouth was hanging open.

"Well," she said, sounding flabbergasted, "that's certainly very interesting!"

Suddenly, I really didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't stand to heat Annabelle's convoluted theories and ideas that Gerard wanted me back, or still had feelings for me, or anything remotely like that. The last thing I needed was any form of false hope.

"I want to go and watch the rest of our boys' set," I told her quickly, standing up with an abrupt motion,

"Yeah," agreed Annabelle slowly, "Me too,"

As we rushed down the greying corridor, Annabelle trying to keep up with my speedy strides, she tried to broach the subject I was avoiding,
"So...what do you think about..."

"It was probably just Frank," I cut her off, "Just because he's my twin, doesn't mean he can't brag about how good looking I supposedly am...he probably wanted to say that good looks run in the family or something,"

"Right," said Annabelle sounding thoroughly unconvinced. She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped short when we reached the side of the stage. The music was so loud that I wouldn't have heard her anyway.
We stood there in complete awe for the next 15 minutes, and the whole time all I could focus on was ignoring my thundering heart, and pretending that the love letter (for want of a better term) that I always kept in my pocket wasn't there.