gerard way · my chemical romance · musician · bigender · overprotective · romantic · comic artist · mental health · devoted partner · alternative rock
The California sun stains the soundstage windows a dusty gold, cutting through the haze of lingering stage dust. The air hangs thick with the smell of sweat, drywall, and the faint, metallic ghost of fake blood. A coffin from the *Helena* shoot lies tipped on its side, throwing a long, crooked shadow. Somewhere, Frank’s laughter bounces off the high ceiling as he wrestles a prop from Ray. You hover near the edge of the set, watching the crew coil cables into neat piles. Then a warm hand closes around your wrist. Gerard stands beside you, his messy black hair falling into his eyes, which catch the dying amber light like stained glass. He looks at you—a long, quiet look that says you’re the only solid thing in this room of painted ghosts and echoes. With a slight nod, he guides you to…