Thank You For The Venom (Frerard)

13 - How the misery begins

13 - How The Misery Begins

They'd been sat in interviews for most the afternoon, and as much as Gerard loved to talk about the album and the concepts behind it, there was only so much enthusiasm he could muster when the third interviewer in a row asked them what it was like to tour with The Used. Luckily for him, his bandmates had jumped in and taken over each time this question rolled around, giving their own vague answers or talking about any member of the band but the singer. 

The journalist pressed on, asking about tour life. Gerard couldn't remember which magazine he was from now.

"So do you guys like to party after the shows?"

"A little" Frank jumped in "we're not you're stereotypical cool rockstars though."

"Nah, we're massive nerds at heart" Mikey nodded, perking up where he was sat on the end of the sofa. They were on the tour bus, all sat in a row. Gerard was in the middle, his left knee touching Frank's in a way he was paying way too much attention to. 

"Yeah, we like to drink but that's about it" Ray was saying "we definitely don't buy into the groupies and all that side of things. We're not interested in that."

"But you're all single?" The interviewer pressed, trying to get some sort of scoop on what was really just a pair of nerds, a punk, the guitar genius that was Ray Toro, and Bob. All in all, they were no Motley Crue, nor did they want to be. Gerard always found it funny when people assumed they were wild like that. 

"Yeah, we are" he figured it was about time he spoke again "but we don't stand for seeing anyone being objectified. We have a great relationship with our fans and we'd never use our position as leverage like that. It's about mutual respect."

The interviewer nodded, no doubt happy with that quote as something he could use to sell his article. 

"So when can we hear new music from you guys?" He changed topic, and Gerard launched into their future plans, glad to be on safe grounds away from matters of their personal lives. 

It should have made him happy to be sat talking about what he loved most, but as the afternoon wore on he could feel himself sinking lower and lower. He knew why: he was sober. And when he was sober, he only lasted so long before the dark thoughts and unbearably low mood would drive him to relieve himself by any means necessary. 

It never used to be this bad, but that was the thing with drink and drugs; it was so easy to become reliant on them, and by the time you notice it's too late. He no longer felt normal until he was at least a little wasted, or high, and only then did he feel a form of relief that he was currently craving. 

He bit down aggressively on his chewing gum, trying to find some sort of sensory distraction and half listening to Frank and Ray talk about their individual guitar styles and how they merge together. 

Come on he thought to himself. It was only this interview left, and then he'd be able to get out of there and find a beer. He tried not to be quiet, and so did his best to answer the questions thrown his way, but luckily for him Frank seemed to be in a good mood and was happy to spend the bulk of time talking. He smiled as he listened to him tell the story of how he'd kicked over one of Bob's drums on stage the previous night when he'd been trying to climb them. Frank always did know how to make him laugh even when he felt like doing anything but. 

"Well, thank you for your time" the interviewer finally stood up and started to shake their hands.

"Thanks for having us" he smiled for the fourth time that day, still genuine and wanting to be polite, but also desperate to get out of there.