Mikey had been the most violent when it came to rebellions this far into the tour. Which was strange, considering he was always so quiet and shy. But he caught the clerks hand to stop him from striking his brother, and closelined multiple guards with his bass during the kidnappings in addition to actually decking a few of them.
Every weekend, every show; he was getting tired of it. Of the public executions held at fucking concerts, of the executions and resurrections of his own band members, of the Grand Immortal Dictator, of all of it.
Including never being able to look away when it was your time to die backstage after the band had been kidnapped- once Gerard had been stabbed and the clown detonated his bomb vest. No one could ever truly die. But still, it didn't make seeing you die hurt any less, despite you coming back whenever the dictator deemed it fit.
Tonight, he had done it again. Mikey closelined two guards with his bass and actually hit another one with the metal body over the head before he was apprehended and a bag was put over his head. Before the fabric covered his eyes, though, he watched as you bit at one guards face like a wild animal while the other held you down, earning you an elbow to the face and a bloody nose.
Gerard fought back a little more, chasing the clown around with a dagger and them both stabbing each other multiple times; seeing as the clown had played with his corpse the week before, revenge only seemed so fitting.
Mikey was so tired of it all. He wanted to go back to being shy, to being himself. Frank was supposed to be the violent one. But Frank and Ray were complicit, leaving you and Mikey as the feral ones to be punished the most harshly.
But it seemed the rebellion was paying off. The clerk didn't even try to slap Gerard tonight; instead, instead, he walked away and they later hugged, to which you and Mikey exchanged heavily confused glances.
This was the curse of the kids from yesterday, never being able to look away from the hearts worn on sleeves.
He hated that he did the exact same thing you did now. He fought until he knew it was time to give up.
And now was the time to give up.
When the sun went black, he finally opened his eyes. You were collapsed on the floor in the corner, laying in a pool of blood that matched his. He drew in a slow breath, the faint pain in his temple drawing him back into reality. He had gotten a gunshot, while you had received a slit throat. But at least you two went out together, right?
He slowly crawled over to you on the floor, curling up against your corpse with what little strength he had. He then closed his eyes, letting unconsciousness overtake him once more.