"Awesome," she muttered to herself, stumbling back to the bunks.
Mikey's curtain was still pulled back. She groaned and pivoted, stopping to splash some water on her face before going outside.
Mikey was sitting against a bus tire. He jumped when she closed the door. "Oh. I haven't been out here all night."
She sighed and sat next to him. He leaned his head against her shoulder immediately. "What's got you?"
He shrugged. "The usual. What about you? You're usually the stable one. Like, you sleep."
"I slept for awhile. Gerard's..."
"Gerard."
"He thinks I'm some kind of big deal. Feminist icon or something, you know? He called me a role model."
Mikey pulled back to blink at her, his glasses almost sliding off the bridge of his nose. "You kind of are," he said. "I mean, you're not the first chick, but still. You act like it's not a big deal that you're up there, like you're the next Slash or whatever even if you have ti – um. Boobs."
"But it's not a big deal." She waved a hand uselessly, trying to think of a way to explain. "It's...I'm just doing what I know how to. It's not like I could be a guy if I wanted to."
"That's probably the point." He put his head back on her shoulder. "But Gerard's the guy with the gender theory books on his library record and stuff."
"He's pretty into it. I feel bad. I mostly want to play."
"Yeah."
They sat quietly almost long enough to make Rae suggest going back inside, but then Mikey touched her knee, drumming his fingers lightly. "Gerard's a good guy."
"He is," she said carefully.
"If you wanted..." Mikey cleared his throat. "If you...I mean. If he...it'd be okay, you know? If you and he were together. You're good for him."
It felt a little like being hit on the head with a board. " What?"
"You know what." She'd never heard him sound this defensive. "Dating Gerard. It would be good for him, and you're -"
She pulled away. "I'm what, Mikey?"
"Into him." He kept staring at her knees. "Aren't you?"
"No. Jesus, no, I'd expect this kind of thing from a stupid website, not you." She could feel how hard she was blushing, how high her voice was getting, but – Gerard? Of all people, Mikey should know exactly how platonic they were always going to be. "Mikey, seriously, what the hell."
"Nothing. But you know you're totally his type, right? You two would be -"
"I swear to God I'll get Bob to punch your head," she said. "Or do it myself, Mikey. Stop. It's flattering and all, but stop, please."
He didn't look even remotely convinced. "Okay."
She rolled her eyes. "I promise, I don't want to date your brother. Or do anything with him except be his friend."
"I get it, Rae." He was bobbing his head in what Rae thought was supposed to be a nod. "You should go to bed."
"So should you."
"I will soon." He widened his eyes. "Seriously, go."
She wanted to, if only because he was being more Mikey-weird than she knew how to handle. Of course, that was the exact reason she knew she had to stay. "I'm good," she said.
Stubbornly keeping quiet was Mikey all the way, and something Gerard never could have managed. But he still had more in common with Gerard than he realized, because just as dawn started, he fell asleep with his face half on her boobs. The concrete digging into her ass was less than fun, but she held still anyway, until a drunken whoop from another bus woke him up.
"Um."
"Your glasses are digging into my boobs," she said, because she couldn't think of a single non-stupid thing.
Mikey bolted upright. "Sorry. You shouldn't have stayed out here."
She watched him fix his glasses, his hair. He wouldn't be showering today. "Yes, I should have."
Weirdly enough, he left it at that.
||
Taste of Chaos was...interesting.
Bert and Gerard were still friends, as much as a drunk and a sober alcoholic could be, but Gerard came back to the bus every night with tension written all over him. It felt dirtier than the last tour, grimier in ways that had less to do with the actual dirt and more to do with the bands and the tour's reputation. After the first night of getting groped and leered at and generally treated like a groupie someone would drop off at the next town, Rae spent more time in the back of the bus than anywhere else, playing with chords and ignoring the strangely appropriate nightly chaos.
Frank was the first person to call her on it – or maybe the only person dumb enough to. "What the fuck, Toro," he said one night. He was leaning against the door, beer dangling from his fingers.
She pulled the headphones off. "Something wrong?"
"You." He stabbed a finger at her. "You're being a total fucking hermit."
Outside, someone yelled and what sounded like at least five beer bottles shattered. Rae raised her eyebrows. "I always am."
Frank moved closer. He was a little tipsy, she thought, watching him. "Not like this, though," he said. "Seriously, you always come out sometimes. What gives?"
She'd thought over it enough times in the past few days to all but lecture him on what was wrong, but she wasn't Gerard, and even halfway to drunk Frank was smarter than that. "The guys are being weird, you know? It might get better later on."
"You mean the roadies?" Frank narrowed his eyes. "Tell me who it is, then, I'll -"
"No one in particular." She was holding the guitar too tightly, she knew; it was a conscious effort to relax her grip. "Every crowd's different. You know that."
"This isn't the stage."
Back down, she told herself, back down, but Frank was one of her best friends. "It is for me."
Frank blinked. "What?"
"You, Mikey, you grab a beer and go. I can't do that, Frank." She gestured at her chest. "I just can't."
His eyes widened comically. " Oh. Oh, right. That sucks, man."
Her dad was a mailman. At least twice a year, he wound up delivering mail in weather no sane person would go out in. It was a completely different set of problems now, but she shrugged and quoted him anyway. "I can't change it, so I work with it."
"Right. Um." Frank swallowed hard. "I'm gonna go back out."
"Have fun," she said. "I'm good back here, seriously."
He saluted her with his bottle. "See you, Torosaurus."
Rae laughed and flipped him off. As soon as he left, though, she put her guitar down and went to lie down on the couch, her back to the rest of the room.
Gerard came in awhile later. "Gee, let it rest," she said without moving.
But Gerard, who usually didn't know subtlety if it kicked him in the balls, just sat down at the end of the couch and let her plop her legs on him. "I'm kind of a faggot sometimes," he said. "The technical term is 'bisexual', but generally, faggot covers it."
"Bert?"
"Called me a faggot. It's funny, the shit people say to you when they're drunk."
"Or hurt," she said, because pointing out Gerard's problems were a hell of a lot easier than managing her own.
"I'm going to hide with you for awhile. Okay?"
She turned and sat up, pulling him close enough to snuggle. "You know the answer to that one."
Gerard went back out and eventually so did she. Frank had talked – of course Frank had talked – and for the rest of the tour the band ushered her outside occasionally, stuck by her and kept her in a group of friends. She knew what they were doing, but she didn't mind enough to tell them to stop.
||
If she'd been asked to place a bet, she would have said Frank would lose his temper and Gerard would be the one to handle the news relatively sanely.
She was dead wrong.
"Gerard, I need to talk to you," Frank said.
He was pale and his voice was shaking weirdly. She sat up immediately. "Uh-uh, no. What's going on?"
"You won't like it."
"Neither will Gerard, or you wouldn't look like that." She frowned, thinking of Bert and Gerard. They'd been dancing around each other for awhile now. "Bert?"
"It's not him." Frank made a face, then sighed. "Fucking local band. They've got a video camera, they're having girls flash them for backstage passes."
Rae blinked, then blinked again. "That's..."
"What," Gerard said flatly.
"That's really shitty," Rae said slowly. "Why the hell would you do something like that?"
"Because the video's going to be seen by My Chem, of course," Frank said.
It made a twisted kind of sense, actually. Rae wasn't naïve enough to not know shit like that went on, but having their band brought into it was a new low. "Did you tell them to knock it off?"
"I broke the fucking camera," Frank said.
"I can't believe they'd do that." Gerard shook his head. "Seriously, what is this, a Guns 'n' Roses tour? This is bullshit."
"It happens, though," Rae said. "It's dumb. Especially now that you can just look at tits on the internet if you want to."
"That's not the point." Gerard shook his head. "Why aren't you more pissed about this? It's wrong, it's so fucking wrong."
She bit her lip, thinking. She was pissed, in a low-level, non-dramatic kind of way; no one should be pulling that kind of shit, especially not on a tour like this one. But then, mad though she was, she wasn't anywhere close to as surprised as Gerard was. "Guys yell at me to show my tits all the time," she said finally. "It's just kind of what happens, you know?"
"It's wrong," Gerard said again. The look on his face told her all she needed to know.
"Don't do anything stupid."
"Almost nothing he could do right now would be stupid," Frank said.
She sighed. "You know what I mean."
Gerard nodded. "I won't. Don't worry about it, okay? I can keep my cool."
Except when it came to stuff like this, he really couldn't, and they both knew it. "I – okay. Of course you can."
He mentioned it to Brian, of course, but other than that he didn't do anything. Rae was half expecting him to say something about it onstage, but...
"I want you to spit right in their fucking faces and yell fuck you! "
Not this.
She couldn't explain why she kept her face blank through the screams. It didn't even feel wrong as much as it just felt weird, both the response and Gerard's speech. She'd never been more glad to be able to stop thinking and start playing.
"You lost your shit," Bob said afterwards.
"Yeah, I know." Gerard shook his head, spraying the rest of them with sweat.
Frank gagged theatrically. "Disgusting, dude, disgusting."
"I said something important, though, so I'll take the fall," Gerard said, ignoring Frank.
Frank kicked his shin. "Seriously, if that's something there's a fall to take for saying, then you should've said it twice.
"Ow, fucker. Maybe." Gerard glanced at Rae.
She put on the most innocent face she could. "What?"
"You have way more of a right than any of us to say it. So what did you think?"
She'd never talked to anyone but Mikey about Gerard's particular variety of activism, and no matter how chicken it might make her, she didn't want to start now. "It was good."
"I don't want to be an asshole," Gerard said. "If you'd rather be the one saying it -"
She forced herself to roll her eyes. "Come on, you know me. I'm not the speech-giving type."
"Okay," Gerard said, but he still sounded doubtful. He definitely wasn't the only one, she thought grimly.
||
When she got up halfway through the night and went out to the lounge, she wasn't surprised to find him already there.
"Isn't Diet Coke unproductive?"
He picked up the plastic cup, taking a sip like it was something way more expensive than soda. "I wasn't going to sleep anyway."
She sat down next to him. "I really don't mind, you know."
It wasn't even a question anymore if she'd accurately guessed what he was thinking about. "I know you don't. That's part of the problem, really, because I feel like maybe you should mind, and then I feel guilty for doing anything I have to think that about."
"I was never in the scene," she said slowly, because she didn't want to fuck this up and somehow be the cause of Gerard abandoning the earnest lectures they were all proud of him for. "I don't know how weird it would be for those girls because I was never like that, you know? You're not taking anything from me by saying that. You're really not."
"But you –"
"I know. But I also know that I'm not a talker. Or, like I said, a speech-giver. You're frontman for a reason."
That hit home, apparently, because Gerard nodded. "I get that. Okay."
She was an old hand at reading between the lines with him, though. "And I like that you say that kind of thing. It's good."
"You're babying me now," Gerard said, but he shifted until he could lean against her and went back to drawing what looked like a disco in a cartoon hell.
||
They'd known Brian had news for awhile, less because he told them and more because they'd all lived in each other's pockets enough to be able to tell just from his tone and the airline he picked to fly out to them.
"That's a little creepy," Brian said, flopping down on the bus couch. "This thing smells like ass."
"Everything smells like ass." Frank sat down on his lap. "Spill."
"Calm down, it's nothing that major." Brian shrugged, the epitome of casual. "You've got a few weeks of vacation, and then Green Day wants you guys to tour with them."
They didn't break any bones tackling him, but it was a close thing.
||
It was Frank's fault, really, except for how it wasn't. Gerard blamed the patriarchy; Mikey just shrugged and said, "People are fucking idiots."
The interview was the last one they did before the Green Day tour. "So," the interviewer said with a huge, fake smile on his face, "are you planning on apologizing to our friends in Green Day for the sudden spike in screaming teenagers?"
"It's Rae's fault." Frank grinned. "She's their idol, you know? We blame her for a lot of stuff."
It was like flipping a switch. " Really," he said, scribbling on his notepad.
They exchanged collective oh shit looks, but they all knew it was too late. Interviews could suck like that. "Teenagers are all right," Gerard said. Rae swallowed, trying to ignore the rushing in her ears.
"Moving on," the interviewer said. Just the look on his face told them they were screwed.
The article ran the next day. "Yeah, Frank totally blames you for the band's inner turmoil," Mikey said. "Whatever, it's so dumb. We're touring with Green Day. Who cares what they think?"
"It wouldn't have happened if you were a dude." Gerard flicked his ash on the floor; Frank winced. "Seriously. Fucking weak."
"I'm more worried about meeting Green Day all 'Hi, I'm the girl in the band." Rae sank back into the couch, clutching a pillow. "I feel like Gwen Stefani."
"You're hotter," Frank said. Mikey grunted. "What? She doesn't look like a robot, at least."
"...I'm telling Jamia," Gerard said finally.
"Whatever, like Jamia wouldn't –"
"Frank!" Rae pulled the pillow up to her face. "Shut the fuck up!"
Frank's giggle was obnoxiously loud, almost nervous. When she finally took the pillow away from her face, Mikey was Mikey-glaring at him. It mostly involved his eyebrows.
"It's okay," she said. "We have to be able to joke about it. And it's kind of funny."
"No, it's not," Bob said.
"It will be, then." Rae paused. "When I have grandkids."
Mikey rolled his eyes, but even he was smiling.
||
Meeting Green Day was the best kind of insane.
She'd half expected to be treated weirdly, but she wasn't; they were completely awesome, and so were most of the crowds. They hardly had an off night the whole tour, and their record was still selling well. They were successful and stable for once, enough that Rae definitely wasn't expecting Warped to be a pivotal moment.
So it was, of course, as much as any specific tour or event could be.
Warped was a pain in the ass; sometimes Rae thought all the bands made friends out of sheer necessity, because it was have people to fuck around with or slowly go insane. It was good to see Fall Out Boy again, though, to be kicked in the ankles by Pete and to jam with Joe.
And it wasn't that Pete and Mikey never occurred to her, because Pete was Mikey's type, thin and almost too pretty and as loud as Rae thought Mikey was in his head.
It was still weird to watch Pete's face light up the second he laid eyes on Mikey. "Mikey Way," he said, grabbing Mikey's hand in front of half the touring bands.
Mikey just laughed, that dorky open not-quite-giggle Rae and the others were forever failing to produce consistently.
She knew right then, that she wasn't the only person who would get jealous. It was comforting, or as comforting as anything like that could be.
Less comforting was the fact that suddenly, within the space of a day, Mikey and Pete were everywhere and always together. "It's not like I think he shouldn't be dating Wentz," Bob said one day, frowning at his shoes.
"I don't think they're dating." Rae frowned. "Probably."
"Whatever they're doing." Bob held up his hands. "Seriously, I don't want to know."
"I think they giggle a lot." Rae held her soda can against her face; it was fucking hot out. "And probably kiss. But there's the girl, too, the one Pete's always around."
"His tech? Yeah. Jesus, I feel like a gossipy old lady."
"My grandma gossips less than you." Rae gave up and leaned back, closing her eyes. "Why'd I say I wanted summer?"
"Because you enjoy the misery of others."
"That's you." She pulled her shirt up a little, making a face. "I should just give in and show everyone what kind of bras I buy."
"Plenty of girls are doing the bikini top thing." Bob shrugged. "You could if you wanted."
"You think I'm whining."
Bob smiled. "Only a little. Mostly I think you won't do it anyway."
She sighed, turning her face against the sluggish wind. "You're right. What time is it?"
"We've got hours."
She opened her eyes to see Mikey and the tech staring at each other. Pete was nearby, waving a squirt gun. Her stomach felt pinched, less hot day nausea and more period cramps and not enough food, even though it was the wrong time of month and she'd eaten an hour ago.
"I'm going to go lie down," she said.
Bob didn't even look up. "Soundcheck at four."
The bus wasn't on, but it hadn't been long since they'd stopped; it was still a hell of a lot cooler than outside. She went back to the bunks and lay down in hers, pulling her shirt off and closing her eyes.
She meant to close the curtains, but she was as comfortable as she'd ever been, and somehow she closed her eyes before pulling them shut.
When she woke up, it was to the sound of muffled giggles. She shook her head, disoriented. "Who's there?"
She sat up just as Pete Wentz tugged a curtain open enough to illuminate both her in her bed and Mikey wrapped around Pete's waist, shirtless, pants at his knees.
The blood rushed to her face before she even had time to be embarrassed; two seconds later, she was babbling and completely humiliated. "Shit, shit, sorry, I should have closed the curtain," she said, and yanked it shut belatedly. "Sorry."
"We can go someplace else," Pete said, and fuck him for sounding completely undisturbed.
"No, it's fine." She yanked her shirt on and pulled the curtain back open, standing up. "I meant to be awake by now, anyway."
"Do you feel okay?" Mikey said. He was bright red.
"Fine, fine," She shoved past them.
"You're sure? We could -"
"I'm fine, Mikey. Just be on time for soundcheck, okay?"
She didn't wait for him to answer. It was easier to slam the door of the bus and set off across the lot, in search of anything or anyone to distract her.
How Mikey knew she'd be at soundcheck early was a mystery to her, but he was hanging around the stage when she arrived. "It wasn't that bad," he said in greeting.
"I was in my bra and you were halfway to hooking up. It was pretty bad."
He toed the dirt. "Well. Yeah, but you could've been naked or something. Girls wear bikini tops all the time. And I've seen you in a bra before."
"Pete's hand was in your pants." She crossed her arms. "It was bad." And different now, though she didn't know how to say it; Mikey'd seen her having sex before, but right now even underwear felt like too much.
"I guess." Mikey scrunched up his face. "You know Alicia, his tech?"
"Not personally."
"He's kind of dating her, too." Mikey shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's just a summer fling, you know? Even if we go back to being friends...it's not like he's part of the band. It's not as important as -"
Rae watched him, sighing when he didn't look up. "As?"
"The band."
"What about the band?" Frank leaped on Rae's back. "Is Mikey deserting us for Fall Out Boy? They could use a decent bassist."
"You're hilarious, Frank," Gerard said mildly.
"No. We're more important than Pete Wentz's dick, though," Rae said.
"And other parts!" Mikey said.
"I'd hope so." Bob crossed his arms. "Do you like him?"
She'd never seen Mikey's face that shade of red. "Oh my god, Bryar. Let's just do soundcheck, okay?"
Rae didn't miss the way Pete hid backstage, watching them – or watching Mikey, really. She walked in the opposite direction once the show was over, sitting down in the first bit of shade she found.
"They're gross, aren't they?"
Rae blinked. "You're the tech, right? Alicia?"
The girl nodded and sat down. "Pete and I had a thing for two seconds."
"Oh." She turned red, trying to keep herself from asking.
Alicia laughed. "And now we're not involved, and you'll get your bassist back when the summer ends."
"I wasn't worried."
"Sure you weren't." Alicia leaned back in the grass, looking as unselfconscious as Rae might have in a house with every single blind down. "Pete makes him happy, but it won't last. He self-destructs too much."
She had no idea what to say to that. "Will he be okay?"
"Pete? Yeah." Alicia glanced at her and rolled her eyes. "I like your playing, by the way. It's kickass."
It was the most obvious pity anyone had ever extended to her, but she grabbed it anyway. "Really? Thanks. It's so weird, because the crowds..."
"Headlining." Alicia nodded. "Pete throws up sometimes."
Rae hesitated before shaking her head. "It's not that."
"Yeah? Spill, Toro."
"The crowds are bigger." And the blush was back, because while it wasn't a secret – she'd tell any of the guys who asked – it was the kind of thing they'd never think of. "There's less bullshit, you know? More kids, not as many catcalls or people who want to grab at me after the show."
Alicia was quiet just long enough for Rae to start feeling really fucking guilty. "Yeah," she said finally. "I get that."
"It's not that I didn't like playing with them."
"I said I get it." Alicia nudged Rae with an elbow. "I don't buy into the mythical sisterhood bullshit, but I'm pretty sure anyone with tits who's ever been to a concert that wasn't fucking Backstreet Boys would understand."
Which, okay. That made sense. Rae waited for her blush to die down before saying, "So. Slipknot, are you serious?"
"Fuck off, Metallica was overrated."
"What? How were they – oh, that wasn't funny."
Alicia laughed. "It was. You looked like Sarah when I told her I dropped her camera in the tub."
"Sarah?"
"My best friend." Alicia made a face. "Well, kind of my best friend."
Rae nodded. "Cool."
They talked for a while longer before Alicia stood up, brushing grass off herself. "A bunch of us are going down to the cheapest bar we can find. Come with?"
She pretty much never went bar-crawling without one of the guys, but she didn't think Alicia was the type to get trashed with people she didn't trust; and she was nice and didn't act like Rae belonged in X-Men for being a girl in a band. "Sure."
"Awesome." Alicia grinned and started walking; Rae hurried to catch up.
She wasn't dressed for a bar, had a day and a half of tour grime all over her, but it was a small town and the one they found was enough of a dive that Rae felt comparatively well-dressed.
"Hey, check it out," one of the techs said. "It's Simmons' castle."
Alicia punched the guy in the arm. "Careful. It's the only kind of place people who'd fuck you go to."
Rae laughed with the others, bought a beer and joked around. It was always a little weird to remember she knew how to be normal. When she semi-drunkenly told Alicia exactly that, she rolled her eyes. "You're practically a hermit," she said, poking Rae's arm hard. "Mikey told me – oh, hey. Mikey! Over here!"
Mikey came over and Rae's stomach sank. He was dressed like he was going clubbing in New York City, and Pete was right next to him, looking just as put together and holding Mikey's hand.
"Oh, hi, Alicia." Pete grinned. "On a date?"
"In your twisted lesbian fantasies, Wentz. The techs just got here before you lovebirds did."
"Rae's not a tech." Mikey was almost impossible to hear over the music; Rae was tempted to tell him to just give up and take his jacket off, because he was bright red.
"Yeah, well, you're not a girl and you've got more eyeliner on than Pete." Alicia slid off the bench easily. "Hey, Pete, come here for a second."
Pete, much to Rae's disbelief, went willingly.
"Alicia has moves. Even I couldn't do that," Mikey said, taking Alicia's spot.
"But I thought they weren't?"
Mikey shrugged. It was fake casualness, and Rae didn't get why he even thought it would work with her.
"I know about you two, you know. You and Pete."
"I know you do. You saw us.." Mikey raised his eyebrows. "Why?"
"But if you knew, why...never mind." Rae scratched the back of her neck. Her hair was getting long again, floppy and annoying. "I feel so stupid."
"I feel out of place." Mikey tugged at the hem of his too-tight shirt. "Like a guy in plaid's gonna beat me up. You look good, though."
And what the hell, it felt like middle school. "I don't, but I know it. It's cool."
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