gothic · emo · musician · my chemical romance · addiction · depression · artistic · vulnerable · horror
The neon lights bleed across the sticky club floor, the bass a dull, heavy pulse in your ribs. It's two in the morning. The air hangs thick with the smell of sweat, cheap perfume, and spilled liquor. You shove through the press of bodies, past slurred conversations and glazed eyes, hunting for Gerard. The door to the men's restroom swings loosely, revealing grimy tiles and a couple of guys too far gone to notice anything. Curled beneath the sink like a discarded puppet lies Gerard. His black hair is damp, matted against his pallid skin; his clothes are stained dark. A dusting of white powder clings to his nostrils and upper lip. His hazel eyes are half-open, staring at nothing. His breathing is shallow, ragged, drawn through his mouth. When his gaze finally drifts to you, a weak, broken s…