"Thank You For The Venom" (My Chemical Romance FanFic) - Chapter 18

Ok. So, this fanfic is not mine. It's a fic I found a few years ago (like five or four years ago) in Quizilla® -I mean, back when Quizilla was quizilla.com and not .teenick.com-. It was written by user AuroraMist, who took it down, and I don't know why.

She wrote a lot of amazing fan fictions; she's a hell of a writer. But this is definitely my favourite from her, and it is for sure the best My Chemical Romance fan fiction I've ever read. And I've read quite a few. So, I thought I'd share it -again- with the World. Cuz it's awesome, and it deserves to be read.

18

I finally let my boys leave (with the promise from Frank that he'd call me every day) and, after, I immediately went inside to call some other friends for company. I'd spent all these months surrounded by the members of My Chemical Romance and now, without them, I need other people with me in their absence. Daisy, my best friend for a long time, came over straight away and, as she's never heard them before, I made her listen to both of My Chemical Romance's albums. I'm now sure she's one of their (newest but) biggest supporters. When I got upset about receiving no phone calls from Frank despite the promise, Daisy dragged me out of the apartment to New York where her artist boyfriend, Josh, was having a huge art exhibition - his first solitary one, which was a big deal since it would give him heaps of exposure. The two had been dating for only a couple of months but she'd already moved into his home with him and they were looking pretty serious.

My impression of Josh was that he was gay but Daisy giggled and told me that he was just very pretty and slightly feminine. He was tall and blonde; talented and proud; kind, sweet and in love with my best friend. I liked him and I told Daisy so when she asked me eagerly for my opinion.

She giggled happily. "I know you'd like him; how could you not? Anyway, he likes you too - his exact words, I think, were 'she's adorable! Can we keep her?' I told him you belong to Jersey and a beautiful boy named Frank, don't worry."

I opened my mouth to protest but closed it, knowing she wouldn't listen - she'd somehow gotten it into her head that I'm madly, head-over-heels, in love with frank. "So he doesn't mind me staying with you guys while I'm here?"

She smiled and waved her hands dismissively. "Of course he doesn't mind, there's more than enough room for you in the pent house."

My jaw dropped. "'Pent house'? I thought you said he was a 'starving artist'!"

"He would be - if his dad wasn't the mayor."

I pushed her shoulder and sat back (we were in a taxi on our way to their place). "You little tart!"

She giggled. "I know, right?"

But I knew she was only playing. I saw the way she looked at Josh (for the brief time which had been our first meeting at a cafe we'd passed and then stopped at when Daisy had called 'Stop, stop, stop! Carrie, look there's my man, Josh!") and I'd seen him return the look. They were in love and it was so perfect it almost made me sick.

It definitely made me jealous.

---

"No, Daisy please, I don't want to go," I protested, pulling my arms out of her grip and curling myself up smaller on the couch in the adjoining room to the three bedrooms the pent house had. She was trying to get me to come with her to Josh's exhibition but I didn't feel like socializing with artsy socialites who I didn't know. "I just want to sulk right here until three months is up. I don't feel like meeting people in a room full of paintings, press and waiters carrying trays of champagne which I know will be taunting me."

"You have to come Carrie- how is staying here in a big empty apartment with nothing to do going to take your mind off being away from Frank?"

"Who said this is about Frank?!" I protested, shooting upright, glaring at her being so goddamn right.

"Honey, we both know this is about him. So let's just go and have fun - he definitely is."

I narrowed my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Carrie, he's on tour. What's the chance he's shagging some groupie right bloody now?"

I suppressed a giggle and tried to look upset with her - she's English and I love her accent and when she says words like 'shagging'. "He's not like that, Dais."

"Okay, he's young, very attractive, in a band and he's not going to give into all those manly urges when all those barely-clothed birds are shaking their asses and throwing themselves at him? He's bound to crack under the pressure."

I threw my face in the cushion, growling. "You're right."

She poked my side. "Of course I'm right, you daffer. He's having fun, don't you want to aswell?"

I looked up from the cushion. "See, I would go, you know to support Josh and all, but I uh, I don't ... have anything to wear..." I finished pathetically.

"Carrie, we're the same size, you can borrow something of mine."

I groaned and started to tell her how unhappy I was that she wasn't dumb and didn't buy that. She stuck her tongue out at me and we went into her room to get ready.

I guess I was going.

Oh crap, I am going, I thought, a couple hours later in a limousine (my jaw dropped when I first saw it and Daisy laughed at me. She'd turned sophisticated on me) with the happy couple on the seat opposite me. I smiled as I watched them looking at each other, hands clasped together.

He really was a sweetheart. When we'd been standing outside on the sidewalk, waiting for our ride to the gallery which would be housing the exhibition, Josh had come running up roses in hand. He'd handed Daisy a bouquet of a dozen red roses and then, even though he didn't know me hardly at all, handed me a beautiful long-stemmed rose.

The art gallery was decorated beautifully ands covered in hundreds of little, golden fairy lights. I stared up at it, a scowl on my face. It was trying to intimidate me - it was kind of working.

I felt like I was a pig, living in a meat factory, being fed three times the amount all the others got. It was like, everyone else knows you were going to be killed and made into bacon, but you're too stupid to realize. Everyone turned to look as the artist of the event entered with his girlfriend and they smiled at the couple. I'm convinced it was then - when they all saw me and, as a collective, stopped smiling because I was unfamiliar - that an unanimous decision was made to not talk to me.

The whole night, well at least the time I was there, no one smiled at me, approached me, looked my way... or anything. I got a rude 'Move!' but that was because I was hiding behind the stand where the host wanted to get to, to use the microphone.

Since the night wasn't really 'fun' for me and the stupid heels were cutting off the circulation to my ankles where they buckled up, I glared and pushed my way through the swarming crowd of people to get to my best friend.

"Carrie! Where have you been? I've been looking-"

"Um yeah. I've not been feeling too good, plus I left Frank's dog in his and Mikey's apartment alone for almost three days."

"You idiot!" She almost yelled. "Does it have anything to eat?"

I hesitated. "...Itself?"

She hit my arm playfully. "Go back to your crush's bitch then, just don't be a stranger again. I missed you, ya know?"

"I missed you too. Can you please tell Josh that he's brilliant and I enjoyed this?" I started fidgeting. "Oh and... would-you-like-to-be-my-bridesmaid?"

Thankfully, since we've known each other for years, she knew what I'd said.

"Aw bless, Carrie! You're nervous."

"I am not!" I retorted.

"Yeah you are, you're fidgeting. So, what was it you said, again?"

I glared at her. "You know damn well what I said."

"I know, I just like to see you squirm."

I sighed. "Would you like to come to New Jersey to my pretend wedding to walk down the isle before me to make it look like I have friends who wouldn't mind being the bridesmaid when I get married?"

"Sorry, after all the rambling, I forgot the initial question."

"I'll hit you," I warned.

She laughed. "Okay, okay."

I stomped my foot and growled, exasperated. "Well? What's your answer?"

Daisy pulled me into a hug. "Of course I'll be your bridesmaid."

"Goody, so glad you accepted Dais-dear, I thought I'd have to hire a teletubbie and force it into a dress - that or make a new friend."

"I would have gone with the teletubbie, sounds like fun."

"Do you think you can tune the television in its stomach to play porn?"

Daisy smirked. "I don't know but we should find out, eh?"

"You're in a relationship, Dais!" I shrieked, trying to sound disgusted and outraged.

"Hey, you're the engaged one."

"Yeah, your relationship is real though," I protested. "Okay, this has been fun but I have to leave or I won't get to the plane in time to sit next to Po."

"Who's Po?"

"The gay teletubbie-"

"Oh! The purple one! I bet the dwarf inside is hot."

---

When I got back to New Jersey, I squealed in excitement, jumping up and down when I saw I had 12 messages - maybe Frank hadn't forgotten about me. As I pressed 'Replay' on the answering machine, I crossed my eyes and swore. I'd stubbed my toe in the process of my jumping around - my celebratory ritual, kind of- and it had mildly stunted my excitement over having people love me enough to leave me messages.

Messages are like lollies - I can't eat them because they're too fatty but I like to get them anyway.

The first message was Ray telling me proudly that he'd gone door knocking in some unknown neighborhood until he'd found someone kind (and insane) enough to let him in and use their bathroom to have a shower. He told me he used all of their soap (because they didn't off him a cup of tea) - I laughed.

The next one was Gerard informing me he'd peed three times that day. He also imitated the beeping noise my answering machine made - I agreed, it sounded like a cat being trodden on but he didn't have to be mean and mock it. I soothingly patted the machine and cooed. It'd be all Gerard's fault if one day it goes on strike and stops working.

I found out that most of the messages left were from Gerard - apart from my agency's secretary informing me my week's pay had been delayed but it would be forwarded to my bank account ASAP and one from the lovely Bob.

I sat down, pressed 'Play All' button and listened to the rest.

"Carrrriiiieee!" Gerard's voice shrieked. "Why aren't you home? You don't have a life - I am your life. Therefore you should be picking up right now and worshipping me. You know you want to." There was a pause of just his breathing. "Fine be that way then"...

"Carrie, love"- it was Gerard again -" ignore the last message, I was man-PMSing. That Girls' Night In must have had side effects. Bob even asked me to shave his legs. Anyway, call me back, bitch, 'cause I love you."...

"Carrie, where the hell are you?!" Gerard demanded in the next message. "I is melting without you ... noooo!" ....

"It's Mikey and Gerard!" Gerard announced enthusiastically in message number 7.

"Hi Carrie!" Mikey shouted. "We miss you and Gerard is having withdrawal symptoms - I think the only way to cure them is for you to send over a part of your body so he can have some peace-"

"Mikey, you're sick," Gerard interrupted. "P.S: Carrie, I love your hair, send me over a lock."

"We have to go-"

"No we don't!"

"Gerard, yes we do. Carrie, call us back."...

The next few were Gerard reporting to me the manner and frequency of his bodily functions. He was cute (and disgusting) but Frank hadn't left any messages - not a single one. I played the last one, hoping it was my fiancée, but my ears were met with Bob's voice instead.

"Carrie, we just played the most amazing show, I wish you were here! Yeah, sorry about that, I bet you wish you were here too-"

"Damn straight," I told the answering machine, pouting.

"-Anyway, I saw Gerard calling you heaps and I just want you to know: no matter what he says, he is not acting or being treated like an unhealthily important rockstar. He's fighting with the tour manager, the bus driver doesn't like him and our guitar tech doesn't respect him. Aswell as that, he's avoiding groupies and drugs, and he gave the last ten dollars in his pocket to a homeless person who keeps on trying to sneak onto the bus. So, no sex, drugs and money, no matter what he tells you. The only ass he'll be seeing on this tour will probably be his own."

I laughed. "That'd be right."

"So, yeah ... we miss you. Call me." Bob ended the message with a phone number.

I checked the message to see it had been left only half an hour ago, so I dialled the number.

Bob answered.

"How did you get this number?" He growled.

"Uh, you gave it to me."

"Carrie?"

"Jesus?"

"Carrie!"

"Jesus!"

"Carrie, stop being a whore. How are you? Where've you been? How's Frank's dog? Got anymore photo shoots? Been keeping yourself bu-"

"Whoa, calm down there Sparky," I cut in. "I'm fine, I was in New York ... and what were the other questions?"

"Oh, never mind. So why were you in New York?"

"Visiting a friend-"

He gasped, "No!"

I nodded though he couldn't see me. "Yes, the rumors are true, I have friends."

"Wow. So you're back now?"

"Well duh, Jesus. Enough about me anyway, what's going on with you guys, Jesus?"

"Well Mary's a slut, God's being an ass and The Apostles want a raise-"

"Bob..."

"Oh, so it's 'Bob' now?" He chuckled. "Okay, I'll be nice and answer properly. We're all okay but Frank's getting worn out very quickly."

I felt my hope rise. "Is that why he hasn't called me?"

"He hasn't called you yet?" Bob sounded concerned and the hope that had risen to my throat plummeted and fell out of my butt. "Well, don't worry, I'm sure he will soon."

I sighed. "Yeah .. so tell me about ..."

We talked for nearly two hours and Bob calling me over the next month became something I knew I could count on. Over the entire month, Frank only called once - it was on my cell phone and while I didn't have it on, so he'd left a voicemail.

"Carrie-bear, I'm so sorry it's taken this long for me to call you. I've been sick and the doctor we saw last week thinks it's an iron deficiency problem and I've got pills now. So, I didn't mean to-"

I stopped listening at this point, saved the message and lay down on my bed, smiling. He hadn't meant to not call. I was happy now.

One month down, another two to go... 

xo-

~ My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. ~