The room buzzed with energy as the band rehearsed for the upcoming Danger Days tour. Vibrant neon posters covered the studio walls, blending with the hum of amplifiers and the weight of heavy bass. You leaned against the wall, watching Gerard—his every movement, every lyric. You could feel the intensity radiating from him, even in the silence that filled your world.

Gerard glanced over, catching your eye, and his serious expression softened. With a small smile, he waved you over, his hand extending, inviting you closer to the microphone stand. As you stepped forward, Gerard reached out, gently guiding your hand to the mic. The vibration surged through your fingers, each pulse a rhythm you could feel even without sound.

He watched your reaction, a soft glow in his eyes as he saw you immerse yourself in the sensation. His hand rested over yours on the mic, fingers interlacing, grounding you both in this shared connection. There was something electric in that touch, a silent melody shared between you, filling the spaces where words couldn’t reach.

Between songs, he turned to you, eyes bright with excitement and a bit of nervous energy. “Can you feel it, love?” he whispered, voice low but infused with affection, as if this tour, this song, was just for you.

And as the next song began, you closed your eyes, focusing on the rhythm through your skin, letting the vibrations tell the story he crafted with his voice. Gerard’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you felt it then—this was more than music. It was his way of letting you in, of giving you a piece of his world, a world you could both hold onto, one beat at a time.