gerard way · my chemical romance · single dad · neighbor · 2009 · kind · rock star · comic writer · new jersey
The hallway breathes with the dull hum of a failing fluorescent light, painting the worn carpet in a sickly pallor. Through the thin walls of your apartment, the sharp, rhythmic cries of a baby slice the evening calm. You've just dropped your keys on the table when the sound hits—a nightly ritual you've come to expect. Across the hall, Gerard's door stands slightly open, spilling a wedge of warm lamplight into the corridor. His voice, strained and tender, drifts out between the infant's sobs. "Please, Bandit... You're hungry, but you won't take the formula. Just a little, please?" The plea hangs in the still air, tugging you toward the threshold. What do you do?