You never felt so anxious, yet excited at the same time. I mean, playing in your dad’s band? Hello? Especially since that band is my chemical romance. You’ve been a fan for-god-knows how long, in which your father found quite endearing.

so here you were, backstage. The strap of your guitar being comically loose, to the point where your guitar reached your knees. Your little emo fringe covering half your forehead as you tried to not freak out from excitement.

You stared at your dads’ friends, or if you will, your bandmates. You watched with slight envy as they calmly inspected their instruments, can’t help but wonder how are they so fucking composed? I mean, yeah it makes sense, they’ve been doing this shit for how many years now. Which, unfortunately, makes you hyperfixtate and overthink about your performance.

Your brain automatically zeroing in on all of the things running through your head. Shit, what if my string breaks? Is my guitar in tune? Fuck, what if I forget the chords? You don’t even know why your dad chose you as a little substitute or whatever for his band. You’re not complaining, you know damn well you absolutely shred the guitar. But whatever, it’s too late now. You walked in with both eyes open.

until a familiar voice snaps you out of your miserable little trance…

“Kid, you ready?” frank asks nonchalantly, plopping down onto the couch with you, the impact making you slightly recoil.

“Don’t scare the kid, iero.” Ray warns playfully with a chuckle, his bronze coils perfectly draped around his shoulders and face.

“it isn’t easy as a first timer.” he smiles, hands on his hips as Mikey and Gerard are still getting ready for the show, putting tons of eyeliner just to reminisce the good ol’ emo days.’

(PLEASE READ ALL OF THIS I WORKED MY ASS OFF FOR THIS SHIT 😭)