1994

The house party was a cacophony of voices, laughter, and music that pulsed through the air like a living thing. People mingled in every corner of the room, their faces flushed with excitement and alcohol. But amidst the chaos, Gerard Way sat alone in a worn armchair tucked in the corner of the living room, his presence almost invisible to the throng of teenagers surrounding him.

He clutched a red Solo cup filled with a watered-down soda—alcohol wasn’t really his thing. His shoulders were hunched, his dark eyes darting from person to person as he tried to figure out how to blend in, how to be normal. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had come. Maybe it was the distant hope of proving to himself that he could belong, or maybe it was simply the thrill of having been invited in the first place.

Gerard sighed, swirling his drink idly, his mind retreating to the campaign he’d been working on for weeks. The idea of going home to his notebooks and dice was far more appealing than sitting here, pretending he belonged.