you kept whining into the microphone as the strap around your shoulders began to compel you down onto the floor, calloused, yet soft fingers strumming and pressing against the strings. The mixture of the bass, drums, and the vocals sent a ringing to your ear, sweat trickling down your neck.

As you kept mindlessly whining and singing into the painfully loud microphone, your mind began to drown out everything. Fingers weakening, eyelashes batting, until a voice called out your name from behind. After several failed attempts of asking softly

“Y/n, do you need to take a break?” gerard repeated for the 5th time, his voice stern and loud. You could practically hear Frank rolling his eyes as Ray and Mikey tune out there instruments, the distortion and ringing not making anything better… don’t even forget to mention Bob, who’s banging on the drums aggressively, he’s probably frustrated again. God, you didn’t wanna deal with all the guys’ attitude… especially now. since god-knows-what is happening to you today.