“I’m not okay!” I yell into my microphone, finishing the song. I blow a kiss to the crowd and they roar. My shirt is sticking to me and my pants are clinging to my legs. We’ve been playing hard tonight and I’m dead tired, but I honestly don’t give a shit. These kids came out here to see us and this is the least we can do.
I take a swig out of the water bottle I keep onstage, gulping half of it. God I’m thirsty. I look up at the lights and close my eyes, breathing heavily. We’ve come so fucking far. So fucking far.
I look over at Frankie—oh God, how I love Frankie. He’s switching out guitars. He catches my glance and grins at me. I smile back and give him a thumbs-up, asking if he’s ready or not. He grabs a guitar pick and nods. I look over at Toro and Mikey. They both nod and I hold up my forefinger, signaling that I’m going to say a few words. I turn and look at Bob and he nods, holding a finger to his lips knowingly.
I look out into the crowd, smiling. God, I love our fans. They’re like our kids. I see someone with a sign and—
Motherfucker. Some motherfucker brought a sign that says “My Chemical Romance Hates Fags”. Motherfucker. I feel anger boil up inside me, but I keep it hidden, plastering on a smile.
“Well, hello!” I say, sweeping my arm in an arc, a gigantic wave. The crowd screams in approval and I grin like an idiot, admiring them. “My, my, my! Look at all of you, getting all dressed up in your black t-shirts for us! And your skinny jeans!” The crowd hollers again. God I love our fans.
“We’re gonna get back to the show, but first, I want to address an issue that just sprang up out of nowhere tonight,” I drawl. “You see that person right there, with the sign? Can we get a light on them?” A technician aims a light at them, illuminating the sign. The entire arena turns to face it.
“In case you can’t see it, that fucker has a sign that says that My Chem hates ‘fags’.” The crowd starts to protest and I calm them down. “Now wait a minute, no need for violence! I’ve got a special surprise for them. Wanna see?” The crowd roars. I nod to the rest of the band, holding up two fingers, the signal to freestyle. They start playing random chords and I clear my throat.
“You sit around and wait for us to drop like flies/ Ain’t a single motherfucker buying your lies/ We can’t stand it when you talk like that/ You motherfucker, blow the fucking bass!/ Nobody gives a damn about your opinion/ They won’t listen so you just punch it through ‘em/ You don’t like it when we do this?/ Motherfucker, watch me give a kiss!”
On the last line, I grab Frank by his collar and smash my mouth onto his. He stops playing and grabs my face. I can hear the fans screaming, going crazy, but I don’t care. I try to get Frank to let my tongue in and he does, opening his mouth. I drop my mic and wrap my hands around his waist, pulling him close. We pull away at the same time and I lean down to pick up my mic. Frank slaps my ass and yells something.
“What was that, Frankie?” I ask, putting my mic close to his face.
“I said, ‘I’m gonna be slamming that tonight!’,” he shouts, smiling. I grin back at him and the crowd screams.
“So you, you motherfucker, can leave,” I say, pointing towards the sign. “On three everybody, one, two, three: Fuck you!” The crowd yells with me and I smile as the sign starts to move, making it’s way towards the exit.
I blow a kiss towards Frank and point at my ass. “You can have this whenever you want,” I say, grinning. The crowd whoops. He smiles back at me and winks. We continue with the concert; the best concert ever.