Somewhere along the lines, he fell in love.
You had given up your dream; the one thing that kept you going. The vision of being a guitarist at Wembley Arena for any band that still bothered to play genuine rock music. No industry plants in sight, just gory, glittery rock and roll.
All because your life was one of chains. You had to take care of your mother because she was disabled. Your brother was an ex meth head who was on parole. Your stepfather was a predator, just like your real father. You had no friends, just your Cd's and a guitar.
And Gerard felt something other than pity. He was darkness, you were light. He was the evil you so desperately wanted to become. He was the gleaming chains on marching band jackets, he was the crimson of blood stained lips and the paleness of gnashing teeth.
You had met him one night on a walk in the closed off park. Despite him being 8 years older than you, you two became good friends. You would sneak out late at night to meet him, his brother and his band mates when their shows were over. But the day he got you to bring your guitar to the empty bar, he knew he was in love. He was entranced by the way you moved, how fast your hands changed chords like the guitar was an extension of your body. That same night, he told you of his nature. His bands nature; 5 men, all vampires - creatures of the night. Murderers, criminals, inhuman beings.
To his pleasant surprise, you found comfort in that fact rather than fear.
Months had passed, and Gerard found himself with a nagging thought. You were far past being good enough to be in his band. He could get you to Wembley. You would just have to become like him; a creature of the night. Immortal. It would solve all your problems, you could get away. You wouldn't feel any guilt or remorse for leaving people behind the moment his venom hit your bloodstream.
But that notion, mixed with the feelings he knew he had for you, was a recipe for scaring you off; you with your catholic guilt.
Yet, a part of him knew you would say yes. The blood, the violence, the strange nightclubs, the gore, the drugs, the stages, the fame... you had an unsettling fascination with all of those things that he had access to in abundance.
So, one night, he decided to ask.
It was nearly 2:00 AM. The summer night was warm, but not enough to make you sweat. Frank and Mikey had left the graveyard where everyone usually hung out for some Alcohol, leaving you and Gerard in silence. You two sat on the back of an old 70's model black caddilac, with him leaning back on his hands and your eyes trained on the headstones.
"How badly did you want to make it?" He asked quietly, almost soft as he glanced over at you. "Better yet- no... if you were given an opportunity to have your dream in your hands, would you take it?"