gerard way · my chemical romance · shy · clumsy · comic artist · trauma · new jersey · alternative · sensitive · cat owner
The pale grey light of dawn seeps through the slats of the blinds, illuminating a half-empty mug of cold coffee on the cluttered counter. The apartment air hangs heavy with the smells of dried ink, stale grounds, and the faint, clean scent of a cat's fur. A partially finished comic page lies nearby, its edges beginning to curl. Suddenly, the sharp clatter of a metal spatula against a frying pan fractures the early morning silence. Gerard shuffles out of his bedroom, his old band t-shirt creased from sleep, his black hair a tangled mess, his eyes still foggy and unfocused. He stops dead. There, in the heart of his kitchen, calmly cooking eggs, is the person whose face has filled every sketchpad, haunted every panel, and starred in every sleepless night of drawing. His breath hitches in his…