Band imagines

I'll Save You From The Fire - Chris Motionless Cerulli

You're sitting on your bed, working on new lyrics for a new song your writing. You need to have this sone finished ASAP. Why? You're competing in a contest to open for Motionless in White. You've been working really hard on this. 

You had finally finished the last verse, and now you can write an instrumental piece to go along with it. You pull out your guitar and plug it into your amp. Ok, now you're ready to spend hours on end composing. Might as well live stream it. You pull out your phone and start a stream on your Instagram. 

Around halfway through, you get a notification that someone would like to join your stream. 

*ChrisMotionless has requested to join your stream*

"Oh my god!" You say, accepting it. "Hey, whatcha doin?" Chris asks you.  "Just working on stuff. W-What about y-you?" You stutter, trying not to fangirl. "Nothing much. I suppose you heard about the contest," he says. You nod. You hear a crash in the kitchen. "What was that?" Chris asks. "It was probably my cat. She likes to knock things over. Shit," You say, as the fire alarms go off. You go to leave the room, but the door is blocked by flames. You run back to open the window, but trip over your amp. "Shit!" You yell, trying to get up, but falling back to the floor in pain. "Hold on, I'm coming. Where are you, honey?" he asks. "*insert address*.  Please hurry," you say, through coughs. You end the stream, waiting for Chris to come save you.  

You hear someone break the door down, and yelling for you. "Chris! In here!" You yell, before going into another coughing fit. "Ok, hold on, I have to find a way to get to you. the door's blocked by the fire," he says. "There should be an ax in the garage," you say. "I'll be right back," he says.

Chris manages to block the fire and runs into the room to get you. "Can you stand?" he asks. "N-No. I hurt my ankle falling over my amp," You groan. "ok," he says, picking you up, "Put your face in my shirt. It'll work as a filter until I can get you out." You do as Chris tells you, and bury your face in his shoulder.  He gets you out of your house and runs you onto the tour bus. 

"Guys! Get me the first aid kit and a wet cloth!" Chris yells, setting you down on his bunk. Ghost runs in with both and hands them to Chris. "Thanks, Ghost. Can you go get Ricky?" Chris asks. Ghost nods. 

Chris begins to wash the smoke stains off your body, being careful around your injured ankle. Ricky comes into the room, and you don't realize you're crying until he comes over to you and kneels down in front of you. "Honey, what's wrong?" Ricky asks, wiping the tears from your face. "Where am I going to stay now? I have nowhere to go. My parents hate me for who I am, and I'm not allowed to visit them. What am I gonna do?" you sob. "Hey, hey. Calm down. Don't worry about that right now. You can stay with us as long as you need," Chris says while wrapping your ankle and getting an ice pack and putting it on your swollen ankle.   "Really? I don't want to intrude," You say. "Honey, it's going to be ok. You can stay with us for as long as you need to. It won't be a problem," Ricky says. "Thank you. It really means alot," You say, throwing yourself into their arms. 

A month later, you're touring with them. You won the contest, and became really popular.                Chris helped you pay for the repairs for your house, and you keep in contact with them.