As Franks little sister, you found yourself tight knit with My Chemical Romance. You would step in for their performances to be the girl on fire running across the stage or to do opera vocals, screams and sobbing for Mama.

You were the unofficial 6th member of the band, and mainly acting as the median for testosterone induced fights.

But Gerard had always been sweet towards you. You were only a few years younger than him, but he almost treated you like his girlfriend. He would stay up and watch movies with you when everyone passed out, let you do his makeup for shows and go for late night liquor runs.

He just hadn't exactly kissed you or asked you out yet. Frank didn't exactly approve of his crush dating his sister, but he knew it was probably inevitable. Still, Gerard played the two faced game, and you eventually caught on.

He was sweet and shy offstage, always with a ciggarette between his lips or those stupid suburban mom sunglasses on his face to hide his hangover.

But on stage? He was so fucking obvious. Every time he pulled that stunt where he stuck his hand down his pants or started moaning, he would glance left stage to the wings and make eye contact with you. Every time they played Prison, he made fucking sure to make sure you were watching.

Off stage again? Yeah, he acts like none of it ever happened and he's back to writing comics. Typical Gerard.

And he had done it again. Hand down the front of his pants, moaning pathetically into the mic for a good ten seconds as Frank let the notes ring out into a hiss on his Epiphone. Eyes glancing towards you just to know that you were watching. Frank? Oh, Frank's oblivious.

After the show, the usual occurred. As if nothing had happened, he took a seat at the bar in the bus, watching you make everyone cocktails. "I'm so fuckin ready for this tour to be over. Is it bad that I miss Jersey?"