TJTBP - Chapter 5.

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Haha, you like the Mama reference in the last chapter?

I did. :P

But anyways, I'm back again and ready to rock.

Right now, it's not up, but I'll be adding a new book called House of Wolves. Check it out, if you like a romance between two bands. :3

With that said, enjoy. :D

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Chapter 5

I leaned my head up on the wall, bringing my knees to my chest. It was unbelieveably hot today, and I had curled up in the corner to get away from the rays going straight from the window to my bed.

I just sat there and thought. About Lilly. About My Chem. A lot of thoughts filled my mind at the moment, and I had the time to thoroughly think them through. All the guys had gone out for coffee.

Something I couldn't have while they tried to save my useless life.

The nurse came in and glared at me, her slick blonde hair in a ponytail. "Why are you on the floor shirtless and with no IV in?"

"I got hot," I replied simply, standing up and hesistating before getting back in bed. She hooked the IV back up and eyed me.

"You look annoyed today."

That was half true. I was annoyed by the fact that they wouldn't just let me die, and also I was depressed I was going to die.

I couldn't leave Mikey. Or Ray. Or Bob.

Or Frank.

"I guess so," I mumbled, looking at her out of the corner of my eye. She sighed.

"Look. My husband's got cancer too. Prostate cancer. His life is much rougher than yours, and he's still optimistic about it."

"Well, I guess that makes me a pessimist," I growled, not really liking this conversation.

"Gerard Way, lead singer of My Chemical Romance, aren't you? I enjoy your music. A lot. And I've been waiting for a new album. You can't have two forever."

"You can if you're dying."

"That's not true. You can't just give up. Do you realize how many love you and how much they would be heartbraken if you passed? You gotta keep fighting, Gerard. You have millions of fans. A fifty year old nurse cooped up in a hospital is a fan of yours," she told me, smiling.

I smiled back. I hadn't thought about the fans yet. What she said made me realize that, sure, but they still didn't know my past and what I'd gone through. No way they would ever know unless the police went public.

Uh oh.

The police.

What had they discovered yesterday? It was 3 in the afternoon and they still hadn't come back. I didn't know if that was a good sign or bad. They would find my gun, sure, but unless Mikey was sticking more forks in toasters, they wouldn't find anything else suspicious.

She walked out and I pulled out my phone, blocking Lilly. Why? I don't even know. All I knew was that if she was going to leave me when I needed her the most, so friggin' be it.

Mikey walked in and stopped mid step. "Gee, you're shirtless."

"No shit, Sherlock," I snarled as he sat down. "Where are the others?"

"Dunno. They ditched at the coffee shop. Probably writing a new song." He shrugged.

I stayed quiet. They were writing a song without the singer. They would have to get used to this, considering I could drop dead any second.

He laughed. "You've been on chemo for a week now. I'm surprised you haven't lost any hair of yours. It was sure to fall out anyway, considering you dyed it from black to white. I think you're racist."

"And I think you're retarded," I shot back, flicking him on the head. He glared and I laughed. Just like old times with Mikey.

~*~

"Frank, get out of my face."

"What if I don't want to?" he asked, smirking slightly.

Sometimes I wonder..

"We sealed this "Frerard" thing done with after that concert. Now quit it." He was getting on my nerves, always in my face and making out with me.

"Well excuse me for trying to make my time last with my best friend," he snarled before sinking back in his chair sadly. Now I felt bad.

"Frank, I know this is gonna be hard for you, but...I don't love you."

He laughed. "Gerard, come on. We both know that's a lie."

"I'm not gay, man. And I don't know what planet you came from, but this will not work out. I'm sorry." I felt terrible, because I didn't want to give up on him. But with the cancer..

He growled, "Fine. Don't. But trust me, you're missing out." He grabbed his jacket that was hanging on the corner of his chair and slammed the door on me.

Two in ten days.

I ran a hand through my hair, annoyed. I pulled something out of my hair and looked at it. A little white tuft of hair was in between my fingers.

________

OOOOHHHH. Finally, he lost his hair.

Okay, so you'll never believe what happened about an hour ago.

I found (well, my dad found) a kitty in a bucket in between my uncle's shed and the fence in the backyard. It's two weeks old, and me and my parents have to take care of it.

Which means less writing.

:(

But don't worry, this'll get straightened out soon enough. (:

WIth love,

Society Strike of Zone 4.

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