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(Guys can we talk about how amazing this cover is?? It was made by twentyonesmitheryees and I'm so incredibly thankful for this, it's a piece of art and should be appreciated)

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(Guys can we talk about how amazing this cover is?? It was made by twentyonesmitheryees and I'm so incredibly thankful for this, it's a piece of art and should be appreciated)

Edit from like 2 years in the future lol: that is no longer the cover art, obviously, but it still means a lot to me that someone liked my story enough to make art of it <33
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It was relatively easy to find the fire escape, it was at the end of the corridor, being an old metal door. It creaked slightly when we opened it but it thankfully didn't shut very loudly so it wasn't very hard to sneak around.

The metal stairs attached to the side of the building were metal and rusted, the steps creaked beneath our weight, reminding us that we were real and that we should watch our step.

Once we were on the top, I saw Gerard pull out the small box he had previously picked up in our room. "What's that?" I asked.

"If I tell you, you can't tell Mikey, it can get me in trouble."

"As long as it's not drugs or a weapon, I can keep a secret."

"Okay," he sighed, "they're cigarettes."

I blinked in surprise, "Oh, I don't really care if you smoke." Was all I could muster out.

"Yeah, I know. Just don't tell anyone. Please."

"I won't, I promise. I just never really saw you as someone who would smoke," that wasn't a lie, Gerard seemed like one of those good boys, who followed the rules and were a little more careful about their actions. Clearly I read him wrong.

"Okay, thank you." He lit one up and took a drag. "Want one?" He said, blowing out some smoke.

"I've never smoked before," I admitted. "I was never really interested, I've heard it's harmful for a singer's voice and I didn't want to risk it," I murmured the last part because I was a bit embarrassed.

"Oh, I didn't know that. I don't smoke very often though, only when I'm really stressed or when I feel a bit down."

"So, you're stressed?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, a bit." He took another drag.

"Why?"

"All the song writing and stuff." He sighed, puffing out smoke, "the band is really dependent on me writing songs and sometimes even working on what's supposed to be their input on the project. I've came up with a few riffs for one song but I don't want to write every guitar riff or bass line for every song."

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