This is an S.O.S.
Trust Me (8292, gen; MCR, TAI, GCH, Cobras, Jobros & Friends)
The Jonas Brothers on Warped, but it wasn't their idea. I took the 08 line-up and added them + My Chemical Romance. hatoyona said it's ok to post; it's her fault. ily!
(edit '11: podfic!)
Nick says, "I’m sorry. I was homeschooled."
"Then this will be a very interesting experience for you," says the tall blonde guy. "My name’s Bob."
The only thing their publicist says is that it wasn’t Disney’s idea to send the boys out.
--
Nick is not afraid of admitting - to himself though, and only himself - that he misses his mom right now. Selena warned him Warped was tough. She said attending was an act of extreme endurance by its self and that touring required a completely different level of insanity.
“Jo-nas!” shouts one of the dudes setting up the Angels & Airwaves tent. “I love you, Nick!”
Nick waves half-heartedly and drifts closer to his brother’s side. Kevin adjusts his shades and mutters, “yeah, screw you too.”
Nick kind of smiles at that.
“See our tent anywhere?” asks Joe.
“Oh my god, the Jonas Brothers!” shouts someone else as they pass. Joe waves, but he doesn’t smile.
They find their merch tent tucked between those belonging to Charlotte Sometimes and My Chemical Romance. The guy setting up Charlotte Sometimes looks nice. Nick doesn’t really make eye contact with the My Chem guy.
“Hey guys,” says Dylan, spreading his arms wide at the small war zone of t-shirts, bags, cds. “Check out our digs.”
Their tent is red and purple and gold, which blends the gap between Charlotte and My Chem in a way that is both subtle and spastic. Maybe they’ll just fade into the background. Nick kind of hopes. He’s never hoped for something like that before. It’s weird.
“Sweet,” he says. He touches the pole.
“This is crazy,” says Joe, leaning over the table to grab a marker. Warped Tour was not his idea.
“It’s gonna be great, guys,” says Dylan. Dylan’s done like, five of these tours, so he’s got nothing to worry about. Nick smiles at him and considers the band’s demographic and how tickets have been selling out all over the country. He reconsiders this. Maybe Dylan does have something to worry about. Dylan can do hardcore kids, but preteen girls require a different kind of patience.
“We’re hitting up Jersey,” says Kevin, taking his ridiculous sunglasses off and peering down at the swirly ‘Jonas’ that Joe is marking up their merch table with. “That’ll be cool. Get to see home again.”
The My Chem guy leans over and waves at them. “You guys are from Jersey?”
“Yeah,” says Kevin. He smiles at the My Chem guy - a little too brightly, Nick thinks, because this guy is totally hardcore, could definitely take Kevin’s head off - and puts his hand out, “We’re from Wyckoff.”
The My Chem guy, instead of breaking Kevin’s neck, takes his hand with a laugh says, “I’m from Newark, but the guys are from all over.” He grins. “You gotta meet them, they’re gonna love that you’re from Jersey. They wouldn’t shut up about you on the way over here.”
Nick says, “It isn’t really our scene,” and then he blushes and says, “Uh.”
Warped Tour was not his idea either.
But the My Chem guy just laughs, along with Dylan and Kevin and Joe, and says, “Yeah, kid. They know.”
--
My Chemical Romance turn out to be a bunch of charming guys who swear, smoke, and drink a lot of coffee. They’re not even particularly tall, really.
Joe is transported. He remembers when he was young and he wanted to be Aladdin. He spent a lot of time learning the words to the songs and the moves to the scenes and jumping down the stairs and bruising his knees. He even, for a time, wore a purple vest over his jumper.
The point, he’s staring at Gerard Way, who’s standing in front of him going, “Fuck yeah, motherfucker,” at this other guy, Frank, who’s just laughing and laughing with a huge smile on his face. Frank seems like a cool guy, but. Gerard Way. Joe can’t stop staring at Gerard Way, with his cigarette in one hand and his Starbucks cup in another. Joe is finding himself completely and overwhelmingly in need of some darker colors and a nicotine addiction.
“Motherfucker,” says Gerard with a smile on his face, and Frank throws his head back at a joke that Joe just missed and laughs.
--
“You play guitar, right?” asks Ray. Ray, as far as Kevin can figure out, is the one who plays music. He’s pretty sure. Ray is taller than him, and looks uncomfortable, fingers clasped for want of a guitar. Kevin knows the feeling.
“Yeah!” says Kevin. “I mean, yes. Nick and Joe play too. Nick’s pretty good and Joe, uh. He’s okay.”
“But you play?” asks Ray, brow furrowing.
“Yes,” says Kevin. “I also play mandolin.” Kevin, he kind of loves the mandolin. Joe tells him this is kind of weird, but Kevin tells Joe to shut up, because Johnny Cash played mandolin, which means he can too. Joe should really just be thankful Kevin hasn’t found a good used pedal steel on the internet yet. Kevin grins. “Guitar and mandolin, that’s me.”
Ray lights up, smiling. “You play banjo?”
“No,” says Kevin. He sighs. “Not well. I wish.”
Ray claps him on the shoulder. “I’ll teach you. I brought mine.”
Kevin almost swoons.
--
His brothers seem to be getting along alright with the other guys. Nick turns to the tall blond guy on his right. “I’m from Jersey,” he says, looking up.
“I’m from Chicago,” says the tall blonde guy, looking down. “It’s cool.”
Sadly, the only thing that comes to mind is show tunes. Sadly, this is a reoccurring problem in Nick’s life. Nick swallows. “What’s Chicago like?”
“Best city in the wide wide world,” says the tall blonde guy.
Nick tries to smile but he thinks it comes out mostly confused.
“Lupe Fiasco,” explains the tall blonde guy. “He’s a local guy, maybe you haven’t heard of him.”
Nick says, “I’m sorry. I was home schooled.”
“Then this will be a very interesting experience for you,” says the tall blonde guy. “My name’s Bob.”
“I’m Nick,” says Nick, and he resists very hard against saying “Want to be friends?”
--
Their first show is okay.
Nick makes them stop a couple of times because there are some really young girls standing next to some really tall guys and everyone is moving around a lot more violently than is necessary and on top of that he keeps messing up intros because there are so many people out there, so many people who don’t know them and don’t take them seriously, he can see it in their faces, but after the fifth time he makes his brothers stop, Bob gives him a raised eyebrow from the side of the stage. Something in Nick stops fluttering and pushes back, attacks.
The rest of their first show is pretty good.
--
Joe cannot find a fucking shower for the life of him. It’s the second day of tour, it’s hot and gross, they just played a show at three in the afternoon, and he can’t find a shower.
He does find a guy that My Chem told him about in the most reverent tones, and that guy is currently attempting to waltz with a very unenthusiastic, very beautiful woman. He also doesn’t look that crazy, but looks can be deceiving, he knows. Miley didn’t look that crazy either.
“You can’t waltz to any of our songs,” says the beautiful yet unenthusiastic woman. Joe can’t blame her. If his partner was as terrible as hers, he’d probably just sit down, hot asphalt be damned. “Gabe,” she says again, “Gabe. You just can’t do it. It’s not in three-four time.”
“I’m trying to show you,” he says. “Come on, Victoria!” He bounces from side to side. It’s a move that Joe never learned in cotillion.
“Gabe, you can’t,” she says again.
The scene continues like this for several frustrating minutes while a guy who might be taller than Mikey Way (but Joe isn’t sure) leans against the side of the bus and laughs at them, beer in one hand. He winks at Joe. Joe looks at the couple and then back the guy. The guy shrugs, open palm up as if to say, “It’s Gabe.” Joe throws his towel down, literally.
“You don’t know how to waltz,” he says.
The guy, The Gabe Motherfuckin’ Saporta, or whatever Mikey had said in a rush, lets go of the beautiful, unenthusiastic woman and crosses his arms. “You wanna teach me, kid?”
Joe says, before he can stop himself, “You’re the girl.” And then he takes the guy’s hand and puts his hand on his lower back. There’s a height difference, and also Joe is starting to rethink this idea, but Gabe is game, raising their arms and stooping a little to hold Joe’s waist. Joe counts them in a slow box step.
Gabe sings a song, dropping off every few lines when the timing is wrong with a giggle. The song’s about prostitution, or something. Joe has no clue. He doesn’t want one either.
“It could work,” Gabe says, while Victoria films them with a small digital camera and the really, really tall guy cracks up.
“No, Gabe,” Victoria says. “It really won’t.”
--
Nick names their tour bus Clementine on the fourth day of touring. He feels stupid and young and exhausted and very much out of his depth and he tells his brothers that Clementine’s her name and Clementine she will be. If they argue, he’s gonna add “Rhinestone Cowboy” to their set list without telling them, and let Kevin try to figure that out on the fly.
They don’t argue, just ask if they can buy cowboy hats. Nick agrees.
He finds My Chem’s bus at a truck stop that morning and drags them out to breakfast. He still hasn’t met very many people but members of the band are always watching them from the side of the stage. He figures that makes them friends.
Mikey is the only one near awake enough to leave the bus, so they go and buy greasy diner food. The waitress looks like she doesn’t know whose autograph to ask for first.
“If I had a unicorn,” says Mikey, contemplating, “I would name her Clementine.”
“A unicorn?” asks Nick, wondering if there was an explanation behind the wistful look on Mikey’s face.
“Yes,” says Mikey, but that’s all he says.
--
Joe finally finds a shower on the fifth day of tour, but it’s only because one of the guys in The Academy Is tips him off. At least, he thinks it’s one of the guys in The Academy Is. He’s still trying to sort out the tangled web of people that comprise the three or four Fueled By Ramen bands that are playing Warped this year. They’re all incredibly close, is the problem. He’s as likely to find Gabe on TAI’s bus as he is on the GCH bus. Also, for some reason, Gabe likes him and insists that he meets his entire ‘crew’ which thus far, has consisted mostly of William Beckett. Joe is starting to think it’s a Jersey thing, and that he’s been out of Jersey too long to get it.
Joe showers and feels weird for the rest of the day, unbalanced.
--
They’re about a week into the tour when Gerard comes stomping out of the bus. “Fucking motherfucker,” he says. He stands above Kevin and Ray and lights a cigarette through the cursing. “Toro, man, it’s on.”
“You said you were done,” says Ray. Kevin is having a hard time following his fingers across the banjo. Ray is some kind of finger-pickin’ god, apparently.
“Fuck that,” says Gerard. He blows smoke up in the air. “Fuck that. Frankie is one mean-ass motherfucker. Man, and think about our audiences. What a fucking statement.”
Ray sighs. Kevin’s fingers slip. The Warped crowds have, according to Lyman, been different this year than from any other year. He figures it’s mostly due to him and his brothers. He’s been watching My Chemical Romance perform for the past couple of days; it’s surprising how many of the tiny, prepubescent girls in front of his stage also end up in the front of My Chem’s.
“Yeah, but you think it’s gonna get kind of gimmicky?” Ray stops playing to look up at Gerard. “People are gonna think you’re doing it for attention.” He looks down at his fingers and then up, again, brow furrowed. “Also, I mean, it’s not like Frankie will take it as any kind of payback.”
“I don’t fucking care. Have you seen the kids in our audiences?” Gerard stabs the air with his cigarette. He looks elated, randomly, like the prospect of pranking Frank in public will save lives. “What about that girl in the audience who’s thinking ‘holy shit there is no one in the world who understands me?’ Fuck it, Toro. I’m gonna do it.”
“What, that five year old we saw yesterday?” Ray snorts. “She’s gonna get your big inclusive statement?”
“Hey,” says Kevin, pointing at Ray. “That’s my five year old you’re talking about.”
Gerard laughs.
Later, Kevin and Joe and Nick watch the band from the side of the stage. In the middle of. . .a song about dead people or whatever - it’s not like Joe putting all three of the band’s albums on repeat has made Kevin suddenly learn all the song titles, just that Joe looks really funny when he’s singing about the Black Parade at the end of the day - Kevin looks down and he looks up. In the middle of a song about dying, Frank’s got his head on Gerard’s shoulder and then Gerard sort of shoves Frank and they stumble for a second while Gerard’s got his hands on Frank’s face and, oh, whoa, that was not a stumble at all.
“I thought they were married,” says Nick, face scrunched up. “Like, to girls?”
“Me too,” says Joe, as Gerard releases Frank and the crowd screams.
Something like all the air in his body dissolves out of Kevin and he ducks away with a mumbled excuse.
--
Joe can’t find a shower and he’s getting desperate. He climbs onto the open TAI bus, to find Adam and Andy laughing and flicking crayons at each other across one of the tables. “Hey, Adam?”
“Sisky Biz, bro,” Adam nods at him.
“Sisky. Uh, sorry. You guys seen any showers?” Joe hasn’t showered in four days. He can feel the grime crawling around on him.
“Hmm,” says Andy. “Yeah.”
Adam looks at Andy and then he smirks and says, “Yeah. We have.”
“Do you, uh.”
“We could tell you,” says Andy, putting down his crayons and folding his arms, “but it’ll cost you.”
“Cost me what?” His dad had warned him about this. The temptations of Warped. They were gonna shoot crack into his eyeballs until he was their sexual plaything, for sure.
Andy and Adam eye him and then glance at each other with a nod. “A scene in TAI TV.”
Joe nearly faints in relief. “Oh - yeah. Of course.” He grins. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”
Adam and Andy high-five.
--
Nick makes the mistake of doing a smoothie run for Dylan by himself. Dylan texts him in the morning and said he was lonely and he hadn’t seen any of them all day and how that was seriously uncool and that they totally owed him food now, but vegan food because he’s given up on meat forever since Kansas holy shit, and by the time Nick finishes reading the text, he feels so bad that he forget to find his brothers or Big Rob. He steals some smoothies from catering and wanders out towards the merch booths, ducking next to some big hardcore guys for cover.
Dylan waves at him with a loud, “Nicholas!” and suddenly every teenage girl in the arena is running towards the booth, shrieking. Nick puts the smoothies on the table and vaults over, falling into a box of t-shirts. Dylan kicks him, laughing. Nick groans.
It’s mid-afternoon by the time the last of his fans trickle away with happy smiles. He wants, at this point, nothing more than to take off all his clothes and die. It’s hot and he’s tired. Dylan shakes his head and said, “Good man.” He’s on his second smoothie already, juggling change in one hand and smiling at a girl who is clearly someone’s older sister and could care less about his band. Dylan doesn’t have a shirt on. Nick is jealous.
Nick looks around. There’s no one around in front of their booth, but he knows that if it isn’t fans, it’ll probably be those guys with the mohawks who are staring at him from across the park, angry stares with glinting metal in the corners. He looks around. Charlotte is signing at her booth, and her fans are smiling, happy people who don’t care about him at all.
He ducks down and crawls under the her table. It’s cooler down there. She steps on his shoe. In back, her merch guy grins at him. Nick waves, and pulls his knees up to his chin to keep out of her way. She has nice shoes on.
“Kid,” she says, looking underneath her table at him, “Are you alright?”
He nods. She gives him a thumbs up and continues signing. She must run out of fans eventually, because after a while she’s pushing back the chair and crawling underneath the table with him.
“Hi,” she says, bent in half over her legs. She smiles and puts out a hand. “I’m Charlotte.”
“I’m Nick,” he says, and takes her hand.
“How’re you, Nick,” she asks.
“It’s hot,” he says.
“Summertime in the midwest,” she says, with a smile. “It usually is.”
“Um,” he says. He smiles. “How are you?”
“I’m doing just fine, Nick.”
--
They make it to Texas before Nick and Joe have to face-off in the front lounge. Kevin films, Big Rob and Dylan looking on disinterestedly. Felicia doesn’t even look up from her blackberry, just warns them, somewhat ominously, not to take off their shirts.
“Hey dude,” says Nick. “When was the last time your showered?” He makes a show of pinching his nose.
“Three days ago,” says Joe. “Hey dude, are you nails painted black?”
“Frank was bored,” Nick shoots back. “What’s your excuse?”
“Andy said I owe The Academy an entire episode of TAI TV. Truce?”
“Truce.” They shake on it.
Kevin sets down the camera, turning it off. Their fans won’t care about his brothers’ suspect hygiene. “Are your jeans ripped? Both of you?”
“No,” the two boys chorus, and they turn away, laughing. Kevin rolls his eyes.
--
“I’m buying a slip’n’slide,” says Nick. It’s the first thing he says all day. It’s only seven in the morning, though.
“Stop talking,” mumbles Joe from his bunk.
“Good kid,” says Dylan. He pulls back the curtain to his bunk and blinks at Nick. “Make sure you film that shit and put it on youtube.”
“No way, Disney will kill me,” says Nick.
“I’ll kill you,” says Joe. “Stop talking.”
Nick climbs out of bed and crawls into the front lounge. Slip’n’slide. Yeah. He saw the guys from Cobra Starship on one and they were all screaming about how cold it was. Yeah. He’s getting a slip’n’slide.
He falls asleep on the couch to the dull rumble of Clementine’s engine.
--
The problem is that Frank and Gerard don’t stop doing it. Kevin watches them every day with mixed dread and anticipation.
Sometimes - sometimes - Frank just licks Gerard’s neck. Kevin knows for a fact that Gerard hasn’t washed in nearly a week, so that’s just disgusting. But sometimes they kiss like magnets, clinging, a slip of tongues and closed eyes.
And then offstage Gerard will draw pictures of vampire rainbows for his wife and Frank wanders around one afternoon with a camera, telling everyone to say hello to Jamia. Kevin ducks his head and plays a couple notes of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You’ on Ray’s banjo because Frankie Valli is amazing and he figures it’s relevant.
Frank gasps, ruffles his hair, and runs off, singing. The next day, Kevin hears that Frank’s made almost half the bands on the tour sing that song to his wife.
The next day Frank also kisses Gerard on the lips in front of at least a thousand people, probably more.
He also apparently crashes 3oh!3's set with some of the dudes from Jack’s Mannequin, but that’s unconfirmed.
--
Gerard’s on the bus when Andy drops Joe off. Gerard’s on the bus!
“Gerard!” says Joe happily. He is so happy right now. He is so happy, and so confused, and his skin feels weird.
“Sorry, guys,” says Andy, and he takes off into the night. Joe turns around to wave, but he gets tangled with his legs and falls over.
“Joe, what the fuck are you doing?” Gerard looms over him, the dark knight of Joe’s dreams. Joe loves him. Joe wants to be him.
Gerard and Kevin pull him up and onto the bus. Kevin looks distressed. Joe hugs him.
“Get off,” says Kevin. “Joe, what did you- ”
Gerard stands in front of them, scratching his head. Joe could hug him too, but there’s something wrong with his face. He puts his arms around Kevin and puts his face on Kevin’s shoulder.
“You said you were just going to go film,” says Kevin. He sounds disappointed but Joe doesn’t want to move to check to his face.
“We did,” says Joe. His words are muffled by Kevin’s sleeve. “It was a concept. Video. I thought it wouldn’t matter because it wasn’t very much, you know?” He huffs a breath into Kevin’s sleeve, starting to grin again. “It wasn’t very much.”
“How much?” asks Kevin, hand resting on his back.
“A lot,” says Joe. “Hey, who’s Jose Cuervo? I met him. Mike said.”
“Tequila,” says Gerard softly, far away.
“Huh,” says Kevin.
“I met him,” says Joe, and he laughs. “Kev, Kev, Kevin, I think I’m really drunk, actually.”
“Yeah,” says Kevin. Joe can feel his hand ball up on his back. That is so weird. He grins. He can feel it, knuckles over his shirt. That’s so weird.
“Hey, Gee,” says Kevin. “Can, uh. Can Nick ride with you guys tonight? I don’t think he should-- he’s with Bob anyway.”
“Sure,” says Gerard. “Yeah, of course.”
Joe can feel himself slipping. He lets go of Kevin and slips to the floor. He’s like water, he’s so smooth, but he splashes a little too, limbs out.
“Wow,” he says. He grins. “Did you see me splash like that? Wow.”
“Thanks, man,” says Kevin. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t,” says Gerard. “It’s fine.”
Gerard looms over him again. Joe starts laughing, reaching up. Gerard takes his hand and squeezes his fingers. “Me and you are gonna have a talk,” he says. “Tomorrow.”
“I always want to talk to you,” says Joe. “I do, don’t I, Kevin? I always want to talk to Gerard.” He flails a little, hand in Gerard’s. “I want to be Gerard.”
“Hah,” says Gerard. His face cracks and a smile falls through. Joe cheers. Gerard shakes his head and lets go of Joe’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joe waves, but his arm is heavy so he gives up halfway through, lets his elbow rest on his face.
“Go easy on him,” Gerard says to Kevin, way, way above him. Like in space. They’re so far away. Joe frowns. Where the hell is Nick?
Kevin says something to Gerard that Joe misses and Gerard leaves, with one last, concerned glance at Kevin.
“Where the hell is Nicky?” Joe asks.
Kevin sits down on the couch above him and kicks Joe’s shoulder. “Staying with My Chem tonight.”
Like a sleep over. Joe is sad. “How come I wasn’t invited?”
“Because you’ve been drinking with TAI,” says Kevin. “Drunk assholes don’t get to stay on the My Chem bus.”
“Sisky did once,” says Joe. “He told me he did when The. . .when The. . .when Gabe’s friend’s band, when they left without him.” The Academy Is is such a difficult word to say with his tongue hanging around uncontrolled. He needs to talk to them about that.
He pauses. “Hey, what?”
“What?” says Kevin.
“Did you just call me an asshole?” he asks.
“Yes,” says Kevin. “And I did not mean it in an affectionate way, like Frank does.”
“Oh,” he says. And then, “oh shit, Kevin, I think I’m gonna- “
--
Nick climbs back on the bus the next morning with a backpack and a smile like he just got out of kindergarten class. Or so Joe assumes. He’s never actually been to kindergarten.
“Look what Mikey drew me!” he says, sitting down right next to Joe. Joe tries not to wince as his brother elbows him. He takes the picture from Nick’s hands. It’s an unmistakable portrait of Mikey and Nick on dueling unicorns. Nick appears to be winning, judging by the bloodstains on Mikey’s unicorn.
“That’s pretty sweet.”
“Yeah,” says Nick. He takes the picture back. “He’s awesome. I’m gonna write him a song.”
“You were okay over there?” asks Joe. “Blood sugar’s still good?”
“Yes,” says Nick. “Duh.” He grins at Joe and Joe feels sick to his stomach. “Come on, I can totally take care of myself.” He gets up off the couch, and pauses. “What’s wrong with your voice?”
Joe touches his throat. “Nothing to worry about. Just a little sleepy.”
Nick grins, and wanders through the back, shouting for Dylan. Joe puts his head in his hands.
--
Nick and Charlotte sit in back of the merch truck and try to think of rhymes for unicorn. Charlotte’s a good rhymer - he feels safe sharing Mikey’s surprise with her.
“Uniform.”
“Unadorned.”
“Uno porn.”
“I want ice cream,” says Charlotte.
“But it’s only twelve,” says Nick, shocked. “I haven’t even eaten lunch yet!”
“Katy Perry always has ice cream,” says Charlotte, grinning. “You want to go raid her fridge?”
“Isn’t that stealing?” demands Nick. “Won’t she extract crazy pink ninja revenge on us?”
“It’s ok,” says Charlotte. “I know her weakness.”
Nick leans close, and Charlotte whispers in his ear.
--
“Kid,” says Gerard, and there’s something in the way he says kid that doesn’t feel condescending, not like with Tom Delonge or William Beckett or Gabe Saporta or any of those guys. Joe sits up a little straighter. “I’m an alcoholic.”
Joe slumps a little, and brushes the hair out of his eyes. “Sorry.”
Gerard waves a hand. “You had nothing to do with it. I’m just saying, you need to be careful. Not just with alcohol. Just, be careful with yourself.”
Pretty much because it is Gerard Way is the reason Joe does not get up and leave. Instead, he sits back and nods. Gerard sits down next to him and rubs his hands over his face. “Fuck.”
“Sorry,” says Joe.
“No, no,” says Gerard. “It’s not about - I’m gonna make a terrible fuckin’ father.” He crosses his legs and lights a cigarette, even though they’re inside. “Don’t ever do anything you don’t want to do,” he says, blowing smoke up at the ceiling. “And don’t ever let anyone tell you that you have to do certain things or act a certain way to live up to an image. Be the fucking. . .great person that you are and don’t ever compromise that.”
Joe holds up a hand, the one with the ring. Gerard laughs, and nods. “That’s it. Kid, anyone who tells you what to be or how to act, I want you to punch those people in the fucking throat.”
“Yes sir,” says Joe.
“Punch ‘em with that ring, it’ll really bruise,” Gerard continues.
Joe salutes.
Gerard grins. “You want to sing with us sometime?”
Joe considers this with weak knees.
--
“How’s your brother?” asks Ray.
Kevin shrugs. “Fine.” He’s having trouble tuning his mandolin - it just doesn’t sound quite right. A little bit off from Ray’s.
Ray hums and Kevin focuses on the sound, staring off into space. He’s close but he can’t tell if it’s sharp or flat.
“You’re part of a very exceptional band,” says Ray, suddenly. Kevin’s hand twitches and the string goes undeniably sharp.
“Uh,” he says. “Uh, thanks.” He looks up. Ray nods.
“Can I get that note again?” he asks.
“Sure,” says Ray, and he hums.
--
“Joe!” says Mike. “Hey Joe.”
“Hey,” says Joe. He slows down and Mike jogs to catch up with him. “Where’re you headed?”
“Catering,” he says, shrugging. “I was gonna see if my brothers were around, wanted to get something to eat.”
“Catering?” says Mike. “You can still eat that shit?”
He shrugs. Mike claps him on the shoulder. “William makes great mac’n’cheese, he might make us some if we ask nicely.”
“Okay,” says Joe, and they turn around, and head back to The Academy buses.
“Uh,” says Mike. “So, I just wanted to-“
“Don’t,” says Joe. He shakes the hair out of his face and glances at Mike. “Don’t. It’s cool. It’s, you know. It’s different for us.”
“Yeah,” says Mike. “Right.”
“Not like, better, or anything,” says Joe. “Just. It’s easy to forget here.”
“It’s pretty different out here, for you guys,” says Mike.
“Yeah,” says Joe. “Yeah, it really is.”
They walk in silence until they get to the bus, and William’s already there, humming to himself and mixing something in a huge bowl. He gives them a small smile.
“So we struck that episode of TAI TV,” says Mike. He settles on the couch and watches William stir. “That’s what I was coming to tell you.”
“Oh,” says Joe. He thinks of Felicia, conference calls, Johnny and Phil and his dad, Tony and the guys. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. That’s, uh. That’s not cool.” He sits down next to Mike. Mike kicks his shin.
“Ryland and Michael have a lot of hat tricks,” says Mike. “It’s cool.” He grins. “So that’s the thing. Since we can’t put up a video of Adam drinking you under the table, we gotta think of something else. You still owe us.”
“That video was so contrived,” says William. He clears his throat, coughs a little. “I mean, no one really wants to see us drinking anyway. That doesn’t mean anything. That doesn’t say anything. Even with the politician masks.”
Mike hums. “Any ideas? I wanted to do spies but Bill says you’ve got-“
“No spies,” says Joe quickly. “No spies.”
“Damn,” says Mike.
“What about superheroes?” Joe offers. “We - I - could do superheroes.”
“I like it,” says Mike.
“Do you think we could get Michael to be a distressed damsel?” says William, stirring the pot and looking contemplative. “He’s so much better than Sisky.”
--
Charlotte and Nick are sitting outside of Charlotte’s bus. She’s sitting in a purple lawn chair, talking on the phone to her boyfriend. Nick sprawls in dust next to her and tries to think of rhymes for Mikey.
“Crikey,” he hums. Charlotte shakes her head.
“Lightly,” he says. Charlotte raises an eyebrow. He sits up and pulls the guitar close. “Mikey, step lightly! Your brother is sleeping, your drummer is weeping and there’s a unicorn upstairs.”
Charlotte cracks up, coughing into her phone.
“With fists,” Nick adds. Charlotte covers her face, saying “No, it’s Nicky, sorry, baby, he- “ and then she laughs again.
Bob waves at them, and then he must be concerned or something, because he comes over. Nick sits up a little straighter. “Hi Bob,” he says.
“Is she okay?” he asks. Charlotte wipes her eyes and smiles at him.
“We’re practicing our song,” says Nick. Charlotte gets up and waves them off.
“You two are forming a band?” says Bob. He’s starting to smile, but trying not to.
“We’re writing a song for Mikey,” says Nick. He shrugs. “It’s a secret song though. It’s about unicorns.”
“Ah,” says Bob. He sits down in Charlotte’s abandoned lawn chair and takes off his sunglasses. He is smiling, Nick knew it.
“Do you need a drummer?” he asks.
“Yeah,” says Nick. He grins. “We do!”
--
It’s like mid-way through July when Kevin finally asks, “um, Gerard?”
“Yeah?” says Gerard. He sounds like he’s listening. He’s drawing though, curled over a sketchbook at the tiny table inside the My Chem bus, so he might not be.
“You’re married, I thought?”
“Yeah, man.”
“But Frank?”
“I’m not married to Frank,” says Gerard easily. Kevin wants to die a little inside, or rip out the part of himself that currently is. It’s not fair that he, of all Gerard’s projected demographic, has to be the one to deal with this, and then be friends with Gerard and Frank as well. It’s really not fair.
“I mean,” says Kevin. He frowns at his own sketchbook which so far contains the chords to a Johnny Cash song, a stick figure of a hippo labeled “Kevin” courtesy of Nick, and a big swirly ‘Jonas Brothers!’ courtesy of Joe. “Like, is your wife - is Lindsey - is she - because you and Frank. . .”
“Oh!” says Gerard. He looks up, finally, looks at Kevin with a curious expression. “She’s fine with it. We’re not, you know. Sleeping together. Me and Frank, though I mean, of course I’m - she’s fine with it. She gets what we’re doing, you know? She’s in a crazier band than I am, you gotta see them sometime, they’re this complete spectacle, they don’t think about what they’re doing, they just, well. She’s fine with it.” He pauses, not breathless, just curious. “Are you?”
“Oh,” says Kevin. “I mean, yeah! Of course I am! I just wondered.” He pauses. He’s curious too. “What are you trying to do?”
“It’s like,” says Gerard. He closes his sketchbook. “I hate to say this, but it’s a statement, you know?”
“Putting your hand down Frank’s pants?” asks Kevin.
“No, no,” says Gerard. “I mean, yes! That’s part of it. The real part of it is that it’s okay. It’s the kids, and I mean, you, of all people, know what the average age of the Warped concertgoer is this year. We want them to see us and know that things are gonna be okay. It’s something we’ve done before, actually.” He smiles, a kind of apologetic, kind of proud smile. “I dunno why, I get crazy on these tours sometimes. So many assholes, you know? I just want to create a safe space. I want people to know that like, there’s someone in the world who cares about them and understands what it’s like.”
“Oh,” says Kevin.
“Yeah,” says Gerard. “I’d tell you to try it, as like, a statement of support, but I think it might be illegal.”
“I don’t want to kiss Joe,” says Kevin, putting his hands over his mouth.
“Yeah, that’s not the best message, probably,” says Gerard. “I don’t kiss my brother either. Or, not that often, anyway.” He looks sheepish.
“Yeah,” says Kevin.
They stare at each other.
“I have to go,” says Kevin, and he leaves the bus at a very fast walk, head ducked down as he weaves between the buses, praying he doesn’t bump into one of his brothers.
--
It’s less like superheroes and more like ninjas with swords but either way Joe ends up with face paint and a cape, with one arm around William, and other pointing a steak knife at a team of masked evil-doers.
It’s more or less the most perfect shot. He needs to call Demi and brag. She’s gonna be so jealous.
“Got it,” says Jack. Members of We The Kings and The Academy Is take off their masks. Joe lets go of William. William passes a hand through his hair and grins at Joe.
“We just got like, twenty-thousand new fans,” says Sisky. He sounds kind of awed, but he’s wearing a tutu, so Joe doesn’t know for sure.
“I need someone to close this shit,” says Jack. “This is one for the books, you know?”
“Nick,” says Joe. He starts to untie the cape. “Get Nick to do it.”
--
Kevin is sitting alone in catering when Gerard and Ray find him. He tries not to look disappointed when they swing into the two empty seats across from him.
“We missed you all day,” says Gerard.
“Where’ve you been?” asks Ray. “I got a lead on a pedal steel in Utah next week!”
Kevin puts down his fork and says, “I think your band made me gay.” Then he wants to stab himself in the hand with his fork. He pushes his fork away, across the table, onto the floor.
“Aw, shit,” says Ray, and he gets up and heads over to one of the catering lines. Kevin slumps.
“Really?” says Gerard.
Kevin nods miserably. He wants to throw up, now that he’s said it. He can’t take it back now.
Ray returns with a vegan cupcake and three smoothies. Kevin doesn’t know if he’s capable of eating right now, but he manages a weak smile at Ray, who nods. He looks serious, thoughtful with his lips pursed around the bright green straw of his smoothie.
“I don’t think it was our band,” says Gerard, finally. He sips on his smoothie. “But I’m flattered by the compliment.”
“Yeah,” says Ray. “Thanks.”
Kevin, despite himself, laughs. It sounds a little bit like a sob.
Ray thrusts the cupcake at him. “Congratulations, man. It’s a good day.”
Kevin takes it. “You won’t tell anyone?” he says.
“That Frank’s hot ass made you realize you’re gay? Nah,” says Gerard. “Not that anyone would blame you, you know?”
Ray elbows him. Gerard looks thoughtful. “You shouldn’t keep that shit all locked up though. It’s unhealthy.”
“It’s your fault,” grumps Kevin. He takes a bite of the cupcake. Gerard laughs.
Ray shakes his head. “Man, I can’t believe it. For all your fucking lectures, all those kids in the scene, Gee! And we get a fucking Jonas Brother!”
Gerard smiles, at him, at Ray.
Kevin puts his head in his arms. Ray nudges his elbow with a smoothie.
--
“Wait!” says Nick. “Wait, I can do better.” He clears his throat. Charlotte fixes her hair. They lean in.
“I’m Nicholas Sometimes--”
“I’m Charlotte Jonas--”
“And you’re watching TAI TV.”
“Awesome,” says Jack. “That was great.”
Joe grins from the side and holds out a hand. Nick high-fives him.
--
Joe is really enjoying this phone call. “I star in an episode of TAI TV,” he brags. “I save William Beckett!”
“I hate you,” says Demi.
“You’re not even punk,” says Miley, “how the hell did you get onto Warped?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” says Joe. He stretches out on the couch. William laughs at him. “Yeah, I’m actually on their bus right now.”
“Oh my god,” says Miley. “Is William there? Demi won’t shut up about him. He’s really cute.”
“Shut up,” says Demi. “He’s probably got us on speaker phone. They’re probably laughing at us right now.”
Joe holds out his phone to William. “Demi wants to talk to you.”
“No, I don’t,” she shouts. “Miley, hang up.”
Gabe snatches the phone up before she can and puts it on speaker. “Yo, Miley!”
“Yeah, what,” says Miley. “Who is this?”
“Gabe Saporta, don’t you remember me?” he asks, grinning.
“Oh you,” she says. “You! Take care of Joe. He’s special.”
“Yeah, yeah,” says Gabe. “Special like your brother, right?”
“No, shut up,” says Miley. “Trace is - look, if you don’t take care of Joe, I’ll beat the crud out of you. Demi will help.”
“Yeah,” says Demi. “I will. You’ll be hurting.”
“And then I’ll sell those photos of you to the paparazzi,” she continues. “You know the ones.”
“Yeah!” says Demi. “Ooh, those are good photos.”
“You said you wouldn’t show anyone!” shouts Gabe, dropping the phone. William catches it and hands it back to Joe. “Your girls fight dirty.”
“Takin’ care of our own,” says Miley. “Ain’t that right, Joe?”
“Yeah,” he says. He grins. “Yeah, definitely.”
--
Big Rob carries Nick out of the back lounge and Felicia cajoles the both of them into bed. The bus is silent, except for the continuous murmur of Newsies with the volume turned low. Kevin rubs his eyes.
Joe yawns.
Kevin yawns back.
Joe kicks him and says, apropos of nothing except a blank stare at the television, “I really had a thing for Medda when I was younger.”
Kevin stares at him.
“Not like that,” says Joe. He slumps over. “I mean yeah, totally like that, but also. I don’t know. She’s really cool. She saves the day.”
“What?” says Kevin.
Joe yawns again. “You were a Sarah dude, right? I remember that.”
Kevin can’t remember being particular to either woman, romantically, and he figures now is a good time to say so. “I think I’m gay,” he says, sitting up, and then lying down, and then sitting up again. “I think I’m. Yeah. I don’t know, actually.”
“Oh,” says Joe. He sits up and looks at Kevin. “So, like. Christian Bale?”
“I don’t know,” says Kevin. “Maybe. Probably.”
“Oh,” says Joe. “Uh.” He half-smiles. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Me either,” says Kevin.
“How long have you, uh- ” says Joe.
“Just this summer,” says Kevin. “But I don’t know. I think. It feels right. More right.”
“Yeah, okay,” says Joe. “Cool, that’s. Uh. Are you cool?”
“Yeah, I think so,” says Kevin. He is. Actually. He is, he really is. Joe hasn’t leapt out a window or even brought up Disney, or their father, or their fans, or any of it. Kevin’s thankful. He feels kind of peaceful, for some reason. “Yeah. I am.”
“Good,” says Joe. “Um. Good.”
They fall silent and pretend to watch the movie, sitting straight up, arms folded.
“Tell me if you ever aren’t,” says Joe. “That sounds really stupid, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” says Kevin. “It does. But I will. Thanks.”
“Seriously,” presses Joe.
“Promise,” says Kevin and he smiles. Joe smiles too. “Okay,” he repeats, and he flops over again, kicking Kevin in the thigh and singing along, quietly, with the movie.
Kevin sits back a little, and takes a deep breath.
--
Nick stops the show in the middle, right after “Lovebug,” just like they planned, and says, hesitantly, “Hey guys.”
Joe and Kevin pause, in the midst talking to crowd. “Yeah Nick?” asks Joe, exaggerated and obvious in his confusion. “Everything all right?”
“Guys,” says Nick, putting his hands on his thighs and leaning close to the microphone. “I gotta talk to you.”
“You know you can tell us anything,” says Kevin, all smiles. “We are your brothers - you can trust us!” He even puts down his guitar. The crowd is at a semi-hush, screams turned down to indoor voices. Nick sneaks a look at the side of the stage. Everyone looks confused, even Lyman, but hilariously so, as they’d talked to him earlier in the day, asked him if it was alright.
“Yeah, about that. This whole band. . .thing,” says Nick. “The Jonas Brothers. It’s not working out.”
“What?” says Joe, looking betrayed. “What are you saying, Nick?”
“You’re fired,” he says. “Both of you. I’m forming a new band.”
The crowd starts booing before he finishes the sentence. Nick shakes his head. Kevin’s laughing outwardly, waving his hands at the crowd. Nick raises a hand to the audience. “Hey guys, meet my new band.”
Charlotte takes the stage at a run, knocking Joe out of the way for his microphone. Bob follows, waving at the crowd.
“We’re called Mikey and the Ways,” says Nick, cocking his head at the side of the stage. He puts his hands on the keyboard. Gerard and Frank are laughing, but Mikey looks confused. “This is a song about unicorns.”
There’s screaming again, but it’s of a different kind, rooted in the back of the crowd and slowly erupting in the front. It sounds a lot like laughter.
--
“They’re not really fired,” says Nick. He jumps on Joe’s back. “Don’t worry.”
“You’ve all been great, thank you, good night,” says Kevin. He waves, smiling.
“See you soon,” says Joe, into the mic, right before he falls over into Kevin, and the three of them tumble to the ground, laughing.
--
Mikey takes Charlotte and Nick for ice cream, and he talks the entire way in half-sentences punctuated by laughter. Nick makes them stop at a Wal-Mart. The store is completely out of water slides, but they have got a couple of cheap, blow-up kiddie pools.
Nick buys two.
The next day, it’s as hot as it’s ever been. Nick sets up a pool outside his bus all by himself. He takes off his shirt, and puts on some shorts that Gabe Saporta gifted him with. They say ‘kiss my sass’ on the back; Nick doesn’t really get it. He sits down in his pool and flings his legs over the side. It’s nice and cool.
Felicia steps off the bus, talking a mile a minute on her blackberry. She pauses at the sight of him, and her left eye twitches.
“No photos,” she says finally, one hand on her hip. “No photos, no red plastic cups. And no video, for the love of god.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says, relaxing.
“And no girls,” she says, squinting at the buses around them, as if paparazzi are lying in wait for the minute she’s not there to throw rocks and lawsuits at them.
“But Charlotte!” he says. “She’s coming over!”
Felicia sighs and says, “No photos,” and she sort of smiles at him, and stalks off.
Joe and Kevin come back from catering, carrying smoothies. Joe hands Nick one. “What’s this?”
“Pool party,” says Nick. “You’re invited. Felicia says no photos and no red plastic cups.”
Kevin goes on to the bus and comes back with two lawn chairs. He’s settled down with his jeans rolled up and his feet in the water next to Nick’s thigh, when William and Travis walk by. Joe waves at them and they walk over, smiling.
“Pool party,” says William, nodding. “Smart.”
“Felicia says no photos and no red plastic cups,” says Nick. “But you’re still invited.”
“Huh,” says Travis, looking down at his own red plastic cup. “Well. Rules is rules. Right Billvy?”
“Who are we to question the word of Felicia?” says William.
He hooks his arm around Travis'. They down the contents of their cups and toss them over their shoulders. Nick gets up to get his second pool from the bus. When he comes back, Gabe has taken his place in the pool, jeans and all, and Charlotte’s sitting across from Kevin and Mikey, shuffling a pack of cards. Joe is scribbling on the back of a couple of promo posters.
Travis and William help him fill the second pool and they climb right in. “What’re you doing?” asks Nick, sitting down on the sidewalk next to Joe. Joe holds up a poster. Felicia says no photos, no red plastic cups.
“She said no girls too, but then she changed her mind,” says Nick.
“Did she?” says Charlotte.
“Fuck that,” says Travis.
“You really shouldn’t use electronics in a pool,” says William to Gabe. Gabe grins at him.
“Why not?” asks Mikey, looking up.
Nick and Joe tape up their posters, just as Butcher and Sisky arrive. “If Felicia says,” says Butcher, shrugging. He drops his cup in the pile with Travis and William’s.
“What’re you playing?” asks Sisky.
“Go fish,” says Mikey.
Nick gets his spot in the pool back when the rest of Cobra Starship show up, ceremoniously dropping their cups into the cup pile and Gabe gets up to embrace them all. Frank comes by a little bit later and squeezes into the baby pool with Nick, arm slung around his shoulder.
“Fuckin’ great song you did for Mikey,” he says, giggling. “Where’s my song?”
“Next time,” says Nick.
“Next year will be our year, baby,” says Frank. And then he shouts out to a couple of guys who’ve wandered over. “Yo! Read the sign, motherfuckers!”
They apologize, laughing. Butcher and Frank start to stack the cups in a pyramid. Ray hands Kevin a banjo and Gabe attempts to get William to square dance with him. Joe looks pained and comes back and sits next to Nick outside the pool, one hand tracing circles on the surface of the water. A lot more people join in the Go Fish game, but Nick gets distracted by Kevin Lyman, walking past the group with a bemused look on his face. Nick waves.
Kevin Lyman hands his red plastic cup to Butcher and walks over. “Tight,” he says. “This might be the cleanest party we’ve ever had on Warped.” He glances at the Twister game that Katy brought, and snorts. “Maybe.”
“Thanks,” says Nick. “You’re, uh, invited.”
Lyman laughs. “Thanks.” He looks around again. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it out here.”
“Yeah,” says Nick. Lyman looks at him. “We are.” Joe is silent next to him. Nick cups some water and dumps it on Joe’s knees. “It was weird at first? But it’s been a lot of fun.” He grins. “Thanks for inviting us.”
“Yeah,” echoes Joe suddenly. “We’re having fun.” He splashes Nick.
“Of course,” says Lyman. “I’m glad you decided to come. I knew it’d be weird, but I thought it could be good for you guys. Good for us too. I’ve really enjoyed having you guys out here.” He smiles.
“It’s been good,” says Kevin, standing next to Lyman, banjo in hand. He looks happier than Nick has seen in a while. It make him smile. “It’s been awesome.”
“We’ve got popsicles!” shouts Gabe. “Who wants one? Nicky, baby, you’re first ‘cause you’re so sexy. Green or purple?”
“Green,” says Nick. “I want green.”
“I’ll give you two if you write me a song like you wrote Mikey Way a song,” says Gabe.
“We’ll see,” says Nick. “Maybe next year.”
Gabe gives him two anyway.
Stealing from Katy Perry
Kevin and the Purple Popsicle
The Jonas Brothers on Warped, but it wasn't their idea. I took the 08 line-up and added them + My Chemical Romance. hatoyona said it's ok to post; it's her fault. ily!
(edit '11: podfic!)
Nick says, "I’m sorry. I was homeschooled."
"Then this will be a very interesting experience for you," says the tall blonde guy. "My name’s Bob."
The only thing their publicist says is that it wasn’t Disney’s idea to send the boys out.
--
Nick is not afraid of admitting - to himself though, and only himself - that he misses his mom right now. Selena warned him Warped was tough. She said attending was an act of extreme endurance by its self and that touring required a completely different level of insanity.
“Jo-nas!” shouts one of the dudes setting up the Angels & Airwaves tent. “I love you, Nick!”
Nick waves half-heartedly and drifts closer to his brother’s side. Kevin adjusts his shades and mutters, “yeah, screw you too.”
Nick kind of smiles at that.
“See our tent anywhere?” asks Joe.
“Oh my god, the Jonas Brothers!” shouts someone else as they pass. Joe waves, but he doesn’t smile.
They find their merch tent tucked between those belonging to Charlotte Sometimes and My Chemical Romance. The guy setting up Charlotte Sometimes looks nice. Nick doesn’t really make eye contact with the My Chem guy.
“Hey guys,” says Dylan, spreading his arms wide at the small war zone of t-shirts, bags, cds. “Check out our digs.”
Their tent is red and purple and gold, which blends the gap between Charlotte and My Chem in a way that is both subtle and spastic. Maybe they’ll just fade into the background. Nick kind of hopes. He’s never hoped for something like that before. It’s weird.
“Sweet,” he says. He touches the pole.
“This is crazy,” says Joe, leaning over the table to grab a marker. Warped Tour was not his idea.
“It’s gonna be great, guys,” says Dylan. Dylan’s done like, five of these tours, so he’s got nothing to worry about. Nick smiles at him and considers the band’s demographic and how tickets have been selling out all over the country. He reconsiders this. Maybe Dylan does have something to worry about. Dylan can do hardcore kids, but preteen girls require a different kind of patience.
“We’re hitting up Jersey,” says Kevin, taking his ridiculous sunglasses off and peering down at the swirly ‘Jonas’ that Joe is marking up their merch table with. “That’ll be cool. Get to see home again.”
The My Chem guy leans over and waves at them. “You guys are from Jersey?”
“Yeah,” says Kevin. He smiles at the My Chem guy - a little too brightly, Nick thinks, because this guy is totally hardcore, could definitely take Kevin’s head off - and puts his hand out, “We’re from Wyckoff.”
The My Chem guy, instead of breaking Kevin’s neck, takes his hand with a laugh says, “I’m from Newark, but the guys are from all over.” He grins. “You gotta meet them, they’re gonna love that you’re from Jersey. They wouldn’t shut up about you on the way over here.”
Nick says, “It isn’t really our scene,” and then he blushes and says, “Uh.”
Warped Tour was not his idea either.
But the My Chem guy just laughs, along with Dylan and Kevin and Joe, and says, “Yeah, kid. They know.”
--
My Chemical Romance turn out to be a bunch of charming guys who swear, smoke, and drink a lot of coffee. They’re not even particularly tall, really.
Joe is transported. He remembers when he was young and he wanted to be Aladdin. He spent a lot of time learning the words to the songs and the moves to the scenes and jumping down the stairs and bruising his knees. He even, for a time, wore a purple vest over his jumper.
The point, he’s staring at Gerard Way, who’s standing in front of him going, “Fuck yeah, motherfucker,” at this other guy, Frank, who’s just laughing and laughing with a huge smile on his face. Frank seems like a cool guy, but. Gerard Way. Joe can’t stop staring at Gerard Way, with his cigarette in one hand and his Starbucks cup in another. Joe is finding himself completely and overwhelmingly in need of some darker colors and a nicotine addiction.
“Motherfucker,” says Gerard with a smile on his face, and Frank throws his head back at a joke that Joe just missed and laughs.
--
“You play guitar, right?” asks Ray. Ray, as far as Kevin can figure out, is the one who plays music. He’s pretty sure. Ray is taller than him, and looks uncomfortable, fingers clasped for want of a guitar. Kevin knows the feeling.
“Yeah!” says Kevin. “I mean, yes. Nick and Joe play too. Nick’s pretty good and Joe, uh. He’s okay.”
“But you play?” asks Ray, brow furrowing.
“Yes,” says Kevin. “I also play mandolin.” Kevin, he kind of loves the mandolin. Joe tells him this is kind of weird, but Kevin tells Joe to shut up, because Johnny Cash played mandolin, which means he can too. Joe should really just be thankful Kevin hasn’t found a good used pedal steel on the internet yet. Kevin grins. “Guitar and mandolin, that’s me.”
Ray lights up, smiling. “You play banjo?”
“No,” says Kevin. He sighs. “Not well. I wish.”
Ray claps him on the shoulder. “I’ll teach you. I brought mine.”
Kevin almost swoons.
--
His brothers seem to be getting along alright with the other guys. Nick turns to the tall blond guy on his right. “I’m from Jersey,” he says, looking up.
“I’m from Chicago,” says the tall blonde guy, looking down. “It’s cool.”
Sadly, the only thing that comes to mind is show tunes. Sadly, this is a reoccurring problem in Nick’s life. Nick swallows. “What’s Chicago like?”
“Best city in the wide wide world,” says the tall blonde guy.
Nick tries to smile but he thinks it comes out mostly confused.
“Lupe Fiasco,” explains the tall blonde guy. “He’s a local guy, maybe you haven’t heard of him.”
Nick says, “I’m sorry. I was home schooled.”
“Then this will be a very interesting experience for you,” says the tall blonde guy. “My name’s Bob.”
“I’m Nick,” says Nick, and he resists very hard against saying “Want to be friends?”
--
Their first show is okay.
Nick makes them stop a couple of times because there are some really young girls standing next to some really tall guys and everyone is moving around a lot more violently than is necessary and on top of that he keeps messing up intros because there are so many people out there, so many people who don’t know them and don’t take them seriously, he can see it in their faces, but after the fifth time he makes his brothers stop, Bob gives him a raised eyebrow from the side of the stage. Something in Nick stops fluttering and pushes back, attacks.
The rest of their first show is pretty good.
--
Joe cannot find a fucking shower for the life of him. It’s the second day of tour, it’s hot and gross, they just played a show at three in the afternoon, and he can’t find a shower.
He does find a guy that My Chem told him about in the most reverent tones, and that guy is currently attempting to waltz with a very unenthusiastic, very beautiful woman. He also doesn’t look that crazy, but looks can be deceiving, he knows. Miley didn’t look that crazy either.
“You can’t waltz to any of our songs,” says the beautiful yet unenthusiastic woman. Joe can’t blame her. If his partner was as terrible as hers, he’d probably just sit down, hot asphalt be damned. “Gabe,” she says again, “Gabe. You just can’t do it. It’s not in three-four time.”
“I’m trying to show you,” he says. “Come on, Victoria!” He bounces from side to side. It’s a move that Joe never learned in cotillion.
“Gabe, you can’t,” she says again.
The scene continues like this for several frustrating minutes while a guy who might be taller than Mikey Way (but Joe isn’t sure) leans against the side of the bus and laughs at them, beer in one hand. He winks at Joe. Joe looks at the couple and then back the guy. The guy shrugs, open palm up as if to say, “It’s Gabe.” Joe throws his towel down, literally.
“You don’t know how to waltz,” he says.
The guy, The Gabe Motherfuckin’ Saporta, or whatever Mikey had said in a rush, lets go of the beautiful, unenthusiastic woman and crosses his arms. “You wanna teach me, kid?”
Joe says, before he can stop himself, “You’re the girl.” And then he takes the guy’s hand and puts his hand on his lower back. There’s a height difference, and also Joe is starting to rethink this idea, but Gabe is game, raising their arms and stooping a little to hold Joe’s waist. Joe counts them in a slow box step.
Gabe sings a song, dropping off every few lines when the timing is wrong with a giggle. The song’s about prostitution, or something. Joe has no clue. He doesn’t want one either.
“It could work,” Gabe says, while Victoria films them with a small digital camera and the really, really tall guy cracks up.
“No, Gabe,” Victoria says. “It really won’t.”
--
Nick names their tour bus Clementine on the fourth day of touring. He feels stupid and young and exhausted and very much out of his depth and he tells his brothers that Clementine’s her name and Clementine she will be. If they argue, he’s gonna add “Rhinestone Cowboy” to their set list without telling them, and let Kevin try to figure that out on the fly.
They don’t argue, just ask if they can buy cowboy hats. Nick agrees.
He finds My Chem’s bus at a truck stop that morning and drags them out to breakfast. He still hasn’t met very many people but members of the band are always watching them from the side of the stage. He figures that makes them friends.
Mikey is the only one near awake enough to leave the bus, so they go and buy greasy diner food. The waitress looks like she doesn’t know whose autograph to ask for first.
“If I had a unicorn,” says Mikey, contemplating, “I would name her Clementine.”
“A unicorn?” asks Nick, wondering if there was an explanation behind the wistful look on Mikey’s face.
“Yes,” says Mikey, but that’s all he says.
--
Joe finally finds a shower on the fifth day of tour, but it’s only because one of the guys in The Academy Is tips him off. At least, he thinks it’s one of the guys in The Academy Is. He’s still trying to sort out the tangled web of people that comprise the three or four Fueled By Ramen bands that are playing Warped this year. They’re all incredibly close, is the problem. He’s as likely to find Gabe on TAI’s bus as he is on the GCH bus. Also, for some reason, Gabe likes him and insists that he meets his entire ‘crew’ which thus far, has consisted mostly of William Beckett. Joe is starting to think it’s a Jersey thing, and that he’s been out of Jersey too long to get it.
Joe showers and feels weird for the rest of the day, unbalanced.
--
They’re about a week into the tour when Gerard comes stomping out of the bus. “Fucking motherfucker,” he says. He stands above Kevin and Ray and lights a cigarette through the cursing. “Toro, man, it’s on.”
“You said you were done,” says Ray. Kevin is having a hard time following his fingers across the banjo. Ray is some kind of finger-pickin’ god, apparently.
“Fuck that,” says Gerard. He blows smoke up in the air. “Fuck that. Frankie is one mean-ass motherfucker. Man, and think about our audiences. What a fucking statement.”
Ray sighs. Kevin’s fingers slip. The Warped crowds have, according to Lyman, been different this year than from any other year. He figures it’s mostly due to him and his brothers. He’s been watching My Chemical Romance perform for the past couple of days; it’s surprising how many of the tiny, prepubescent girls in front of his stage also end up in the front of My Chem’s.
“Yeah, but you think it’s gonna get kind of gimmicky?” Ray stops playing to look up at Gerard. “People are gonna think you’re doing it for attention.” He looks down at his fingers and then up, again, brow furrowed. “Also, I mean, it’s not like Frankie will take it as any kind of payback.”
“I don’t fucking care. Have you seen the kids in our audiences?” Gerard stabs the air with his cigarette. He looks elated, randomly, like the prospect of pranking Frank in public will save lives. “What about that girl in the audience who’s thinking ‘holy shit there is no one in the world who understands me?’ Fuck it, Toro. I’m gonna do it.”
“What, that five year old we saw yesterday?” Ray snorts. “She’s gonna get your big inclusive statement?”
“Hey,” says Kevin, pointing at Ray. “That’s my five year old you’re talking about.”
Gerard laughs.
Later, Kevin and Joe and Nick watch the band from the side of the stage. In the middle of. . .a song about dead people or whatever - it’s not like Joe putting all three of the band’s albums on repeat has made Kevin suddenly learn all the song titles, just that Joe looks really funny when he’s singing about the Black Parade at the end of the day - Kevin looks down and he looks up. In the middle of a song about dying, Frank’s got his head on Gerard’s shoulder and then Gerard sort of shoves Frank and they stumble for a second while Gerard’s got his hands on Frank’s face and, oh, whoa, that was not a stumble at all.
“I thought they were married,” says Nick, face scrunched up. “Like, to girls?”
“Me too,” says Joe, as Gerard releases Frank and the crowd screams.
Something like all the air in his body dissolves out of Kevin and he ducks away with a mumbled excuse.
--
Joe can’t find a shower and he’s getting desperate. He climbs onto the open TAI bus, to find Adam and Andy laughing and flicking crayons at each other across one of the tables. “Hey, Adam?”
“Sisky Biz, bro,” Adam nods at him.
“Sisky. Uh, sorry. You guys seen any showers?” Joe hasn’t showered in four days. He can feel the grime crawling around on him.
“Hmm,” says Andy. “Yeah.”
Adam looks at Andy and then he smirks and says, “Yeah. We have.”
“Do you, uh.”
“We could tell you,” says Andy, putting down his crayons and folding his arms, “but it’ll cost you.”
“Cost me what?” His dad had warned him about this. The temptations of Warped. They were gonna shoot crack into his eyeballs until he was their sexual plaything, for sure.
Andy and Adam eye him and then glance at each other with a nod. “A scene in TAI TV.”
Joe nearly faints in relief. “Oh - yeah. Of course.” He grins. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”
Adam and Andy high-five.
--
Nick makes the mistake of doing a smoothie run for Dylan by himself. Dylan texts him in the morning and said he was lonely and he hadn’t seen any of them all day and how that was seriously uncool and that they totally owed him food now, but vegan food because he’s given up on meat forever since Kansas holy shit, and by the time Nick finishes reading the text, he feels so bad that he forget to find his brothers or Big Rob. He steals some smoothies from catering and wanders out towards the merch booths, ducking next to some big hardcore guys for cover.
Dylan waves at him with a loud, “Nicholas!” and suddenly every teenage girl in the arena is running towards the booth, shrieking. Nick puts the smoothies on the table and vaults over, falling into a box of t-shirts. Dylan kicks him, laughing. Nick groans.
It’s mid-afternoon by the time the last of his fans trickle away with happy smiles. He wants, at this point, nothing more than to take off all his clothes and die. It’s hot and he’s tired. Dylan shakes his head and said, “Good man.” He’s on his second smoothie already, juggling change in one hand and smiling at a girl who is clearly someone’s older sister and could care less about his band. Dylan doesn’t have a shirt on. Nick is jealous.
Nick looks around. There’s no one around in front of their booth, but he knows that if it isn’t fans, it’ll probably be those guys with the mohawks who are staring at him from across the park, angry stares with glinting metal in the corners. He looks around. Charlotte is signing at her booth, and her fans are smiling, happy people who don’t care about him at all.
He ducks down and crawls under the her table. It’s cooler down there. She steps on his shoe. In back, her merch guy grins at him. Nick waves, and pulls his knees up to his chin to keep out of her way. She has nice shoes on.
“Kid,” she says, looking underneath her table at him, “Are you alright?”
He nods. She gives him a thumbs up and continues signing. She must run out of fans eventually, because after a while she’s pushing back the chair and crawling underneath the table with him.
“Hi,” she says, bent in half over her legs. She smiles and puts out a hand. “I’m Charlotte.”
“I’m Nick,” he says, and takes her hand.
“How’re you, Nick,” she asks.
“It’s hot,” he says.
“Summertime in the midwest,” she says, with a smile. “It usually is.”
“Um,” he says. He smiles. “How are you?”
“I’m doing just fine, Nick.”
--
They make it to Texas before Nick and Joe have to face-off in the front lounge. Kevin films, Big Rob and Dylan looking on disinterestedly. Felicia doesn’t even look up from her blackberry, just warns them, somewhat ominously, not to take off their shirts.
“Hey dude,” says Nick. “When was the last time your showered?” He makes a show of pinching his nose.
“Three days ago,” says Joe. “Hey dude, are you nails painted black?”
“Frank was bored,” Nick shoots back. “What’s your excuse?”
“Andy said I owe The Academy an entire episode of TAI TV. Truce?”
“Truce.” They shake on it.
Kevin sets down the camera, turning it off. Their fans won’t care about his brothers’ suspect hygiene. “Are your jeans ripped? Both of you?”
“No,” the two boys chorus, and they turn away, laughing. Kevin rolls his eyes.
--
“I’m buying a slip’n’slide,” says Nick. It’s the first thing he says all day. It’s only seven in the morning, though.
“Stop talking,” mumbles Joe from his bunk.
“Good kid,” says Dylan. He pulls back the curtain to his bunk and blinks at Nick. “Make sure you film that shit and put it on youtube.”
“No way, Disney will kill me,” says Nick.
“I’ll kill you,” says Joe. “Stop talking.”
Nick climbs out of bed and crawls into the front lounge. Slip’n’slide. Yeah. He saw the guys from Cobra Starship on one and they were all screaming about how cold it was. Yeah. He’s getting a slip’n’slide.
He falls asleep on the couch to the dull rumble of Clementine’s engine.
--
The problem is that Frank and Gerard don’t stop doing it. Kevin watches them every day with mixed dread and anticipation.
Sometimes - sometimes - Frank just licks Gerard’s neck. Kevin knows for a fact that Gerard hasn’t washed in nearly a week, so that’s just disgusting. But sometimes they kiss like magnets, clinging, a slip of tongues and closed eyes.
And then offstage Gerard will draw pictures of vampire rainbows for his wife and Frank wanders around one afternoon with a camera, telling everyone to say hello to Jamia. Kevin ducks his head and plays a couple notes of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You’ on Ray’s banjo because Frankie Valli is amazing and he figures it’s relevant.
Frank gasps, ruffles his hair, and runs off, singing. The next day, Kevin hears that Frank’s made almost half the bands on the tour sing that song to his wife.
The next day Frank also kisses Gerard on the lips in front of at least a thousand people, probably more.
He also apparently crashes 3oh!3's set with some of the dudes from Jack’s Mannequin, but that’s unconfirmed.
--
Gerard’s on the bus when Andy drops Joe off. Gerard’s on the bus!
“Gerard!” says Joe happily. He is so happy right now. He is so happy, and so confused, and his skin feels weird.
“Sorry, guys,” says Andy, and he takes off into the night. Joe turns around to wave, but he gets tangled with his legs and falls over.
“Joe, what the fuck are you doing?” Gerard looms over him, the dark knight of Joe’s dreams. Joe loves him. Joe wants to be him.
Gerard and Kevin pull him up and onto the bus. Kevin looks distressed. Joe hugs him.
“Get off,” says Kevin. “Joe, what did you- ”
Gerard stands in front of them, scratching his head. Joe could hug him too, but there’s something wrong with his face. He puts his arms around Kevin and puts his face on Kevin’s shoulder.
“You said you were just going to go film,” says Kevin. He sounds disappointed but Joe doesn’t want to move to check to his face.
“We did,” says Joe. His words are muffled by Kevin’s sleeve. “It was a concept. Video. I thought it wouldn’t matter because it wasn’t very much, you know?” He huffs a breath into Kevin’s sleeve, starting to grin again. “It wasn’t very much.”
“How much?” asks Kevin, hand resting on his back.
“A lot,” says Joe. “Hey, who’s Jose Cuervo? I met him. Mike said.”
“Tequila,” says Gerard softly, far away.
“Huh,” says Kevin.
“I met him,” says Joe, and he laughs. “Kev, Kev, Kevin, I think I’m really drunk, actually.”
“Yeah,” says Kevin. Joe can feel his hand ball up on his back. That is so weird. He grins. He can feel it, knuckles over his shirt. That’s so weird.
“Hey, Gee,” says Kevin. “Can, uh. Can Nick ride with you guys tonight? I don’t think he should-- he’s with Bob anyway.”
“Sure,” says Gerard. “Yeah, of course.”
Joe can feel himself slipping. He lets go of Kevin and slips to the floor. He’s like water, he’s so smooth, but he splashes a little too, limbs out.
“Wow,” he says. He grins. “Did you see me splash like that? Wow.”
“Thanks, man,” says Kevin. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t,” says Gerard. “It’s fine.”
Gerard looms over him again. Joe starts laughing, reaching up. Gerard takes his hand and squeezes his fingers. “Me and you are gonna have a talk,” he says. “Tomorrow.”
“I always want to talk to you,” says Joe. “I do, don’t I, Kevin? I always want to talk to Gerard.” He flails a little, hand in Gerard’s. “I want to be Gerard.”
“Hah,” says Gerard. His face cracks and a smile falls through. Joe cheers. Gerard shakes his head and lets go of Joe’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joe waves, but his arm is heavy so he gives up halfway through, lets his elbow rest on his face.
“Go easy on him,” Gerard says to Kevin, way, way above him. Like in space. They’re so far away. Joe frowns. Where the hell is Nick?
Kevin says something to Gerard that Joe misses and Gerard leaves, with one last, concerned glance at Kevin.
“Where the hell is Nicky?” Joe asks.
Kevin sits down on the couch above him and kicks Joe’s shoulder. “Staying with My Chem tonight.”
Like a sleep over. Joe is sad. “How come I wasn’t invited?”
“Because you’ve been drinking with TAI,” says Kevin. “Drunk assholes don’t get to stay on the My Chem bus.”
“Sisky did once,” says Joe. “He told me he did when The. . .when The. . .when Gabe’s friend’s band, when they left without him.” The Academy Is is such a difficult word to say with his tongue hanging around uncontrolled. He needs to talk to them about that.
He pauses. “Hey, what?”
“What?” says Kevin.
“Did you just call me an asshole?” he asks.
“Yes,” says Kevin. “And I did not mean it in an affectionate way, like Frank does.”
“Oh,” he says. And then, “oh shit, Kevin, I think I’m gonna- “
--
Nick climbs back on the bus the next morning with a backpack and a smile like he just got out of kindergarten class. Or so Joe assumes. He’s never actually been to kindergarten.
“Look what Mikey drew me!” he says, sitting down right next to Joe. Joe tries not to wince as his brother elbows him. He takes the picture from Nick’s hands. It’s an unmistakable portrait of Mikey and Nick on dueling unicorns. Nick appears to be winning, judging by the bloodstains on Mikey’s unicorn.
“That’s pretty sweet.”
“Yeah,” says Nick. He takes the picture back. “He’s awesome. I’m gonna write him a song.”
“You were okay over there?” asks Joe. “Blood sugar’s still good?”
“Yes,” says Nick. “Duh.” He grins at Joe and Joe feels sick to his stomach. “Come on, I can totally take care of myself.” He gets up off the couch, and pauses. “What’s wrong with your voice?”
Joe touches his throat. “Nothing to worry about. Just a little sleepy.”
Nick grins, and wanders through the back, shouting for Dylan. Joe puts his head in his hands.
--
Nick and Charlotte sit in back of the merch truck and try to think of rhymes for unicorn. Charlotte’s a good rhymer - he feels safe sharing Mikey’s surprise with her.
“Uniform.”
“Unadorned.”
“Uno porn.”
“I want ice cream,” says Charlotte.
“But it’s only twelve,” says Nick, shocked. “I haven’t even eaten lunch yet!”
“Katy Perry always has ice cream,” says Charlotte, grinning. “You want to go raid her fridge?”
“Isn’t that stealing?” demands Nick. “Won’t she extract crazy pink ninja revenge on us?”
“It’s ok,” says Charlotte. “I know her weakness.”
Nick leans close, and Charlotte whispers in his ear.
--
“Kid,” says Gerard, and there’s something in the way he says kid that doesn’t feel condescending, not like with Tom Delonge or William Beckett or Gabe Saporta or any of those guys. Joe sits up a little straighter. “I’m an alcoholic.”
Joe slumps a little, and brushes the hair out of his eyes. “Sorry.”
Gerard waves a hand. “You had nothing to do with it. I’m just saying, you need to be careful. Not just with alcohol. Just, be careful with yourself.”
Pretty much because it is Gerard Way is the reason Joe does not get up and leave. Instead, he sits back and nods. Gerard sits down next to him and rubs his hands over his face. “Fuck.”
“Sorry,” says Joe.
“No, no,” says Gerard. “It’s not about - I’m gonna make a terrible fuckin’ father.” He crosses his legs and lights a cigarette, even though they’re inside. “Don’t ever do anything you don’t want to do,” he says, blowing smoke up at the ceiling. “And don’t ever let anyone tell you that you have to do certain things or act a certain way to live up to an image. Be the fucking. . .great person that you are and don’t ever compromise that.”
Joe holds up a hand, the one with the ring. Gerard laughs, and nods. “That’s it. Kid, anyone who tells you what to be or how to act, I want you to punch those people in the fucking throat.”
“Yes sir,” says Joe.
“Punch ‘em with that ring, it’ll really bruise,” Gerard continues.
Joe salutes.
Gerard grins. “You want to sing with us sometime?”
Joe considers this with weak knees.
--
“How’s your brother?” asks Ray.
Kevin shrugs. “Fine.” He’s having trouble tuning his mandolin - it just doesn’t sound quite right. A little bit off from Ray’s.
Ray hums and Kevin focuses on the sound, staring off into space. He’s close but he can’t tell if it’s sharp or flat.
“You’re part of a very exceptional band,” says Ray, suddenly. Kevin’s hand twitches and the string goes undeniably sharp.
“Uh,” he says. “Uh, thanks.” He looks up. Ray nods.
“Can I get that note again?” he asks.
“Sure,” says Ray, and he hums.
--
“Joe!” says Mike. “Hey Joe.”
“Hey,” says Joe. He slows down and Mike jogs to catch up with him. “Where’re you headed?”
“Catering,” he says, shrugging. “I was gonna see if my brothers were around, wanted to get something to eat.”
“Catering?” says Mike. “You can still eat that shit?”
He shrugs. Mike claps him on the shoulder. “William makes great mac’n’cheese, he might make us some if we ask nicely.”
“Okay,” says Joe, and they turn around, and head back to The Academy buses.
“Uh,” says Mike. “So, I just wanted to-“
“Don’t,” says Joe. He shakes the hair out of his face and glances at Mike. “Don’t. It’s cool. It’s, you know. It’s different for us.”
“Yeah,” says Mike. “Right.”
“Not like, better, or anything,” says Joe. “Just. It’s easy to forget here.”
“It’s pretty different out here, for you guys,” says Mike.
“Yeah,” says Joe. “Yeah, it really is.”
They walk in silence until they get to the bus, and William’s already there, humming to himself and mixing something in a huge bowl. He gives them a small smile.
“So we struck that episode of TAI TV,” says Mike. He settles on the couch and watches William stir. “That’s what I was coming to tell you.”
“Oh,” says Joe. He thinks of Felicia, conference calls, Johnny and Phil and his dad, Tony and the guys. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. That’s, uh. That’s not cool.” He sits down next to Mike. Mike kicks his shin.
“Ryland and Michael have a lot of hat tricks,” says Mike. “It’s cool.” He grins. “So that’s the thing. Since we can’t put up a video of Adam drinking you under the table, we gotta think of something else. You still owe us.”
“That video was so contrived,” says William. He clears his throat, coughs a little. “I mean, no one really wants to see us drinking anyway. That doesn’t mean anything. That doesn’t say anything. Even with the politician masks.”
Mike hums. “Any ideas? I wanted to do spies but Bill says you’ve got-“
“No spies,” says Joe quickly. “No spies.”
“Damn,” says Mike.
“What about superheroes?” Joe offers. “We - I - could do superheroes.”
“I like it,” says Mike.
“Do you think we could get Michael to be a distressed damsel?” says William, stirring the pot and looking contemplative. “He’s so much better than Sisky.”
--
Charlotte and Nick are sitting outside of Charlotte’s bus. She’s sitting in a purple lawn chair, talking on the phone to her boyfriend. Nick sprawls in dust next to her and tries to think of rhymes for Mikey.
“Crikey,” he hums. Charlotte shakes her head.
“Lightly,” he says. Charlotte raises an eyebrow. He sits up and pulls the guitar close. “Mikey, step lightly! Your brother is sleeping, your drummer is weeping and there’s a unicorn upstairs.”
Charlotte cracks up, coughing into her phone.
“With fists,” Nick adds. Charlotte covers her face, saying “No, it’s Nicky, sorry, baby, he- “ and then she laughs again.
Bob waves at them, and then he must be concerned or something, because he comes over. Nick sits up a little straighter. “Hi Bob,” he says.
“Is she okay?” he asks. Charlotte wipes her eyes and smiles at him.
“We’re practicing our song,” says Nick. Charlotte gets up and waves them off.
“You two are forming a band?” says Bob. He’s starting to smile, but trying not to.
“We’re writing a song for Mikey,” says Nick. He shrugs. “It’s a secret song though. It’s about unicorns.”
“Ah,” says Bob. He sits down in Charlotte’s abandoned lawn chair and takes off his sunglasses. He is smiling, Nick knew it.
“Do you need a drummer?” he asks.
“Yeah,” says Nick. He grins. “We do!”
--
It’s like mid-way through July when Kevin finally asks, “um, Gerard?”
“Yeah?” says Gerard. He sounds like he’s listening. He’s drawing though, curled over a sketchbook at the tiny table inside the My Chem bus, so he might not be.
“You’re married, I thought?”
“Yeah, man.”
“But Frank?”
“I’m not married to Frank,” says Gerard easily. Kevin wants to die a little inside, or rip out the part of himself that currently is. It’s not fair that he, of all Gerard’s projected demographic, has to be the one to deal with this, and then be friends with Gerard and Frank as well. It’s really not fair.
“I mean,” says Kevin. He frowns at his own sketchbook which so far contains the chords to a Johnny Cash song, a stick figure of a hippo labeled “Kevin” courtesy of Nick, and a big swirly ‘Jonas Brothers!’ courtesy of Joe. “Like, is your wife - is Lindsey - is she - because you and Frank. . .”
“Oh!” says Gerard. He looks up, finally, looks at Kevin with a curious expression. “She’s fine with it. We’re not, you know. Sleeping together. Me and Frank, though I mean, of course I’m - she’s fine with it. She gets what we’re doing, you know? She’s in a crazier band than I am, you gotta see them sometime, they’re this complete spectacle, they don’t think about what they’re doing, they just, well. She’s fine with it.” He pauses, not breathless, just curious. “Are you?”
“Oh,” says Kevin. “I mean, yeah! Of course I am! I just wondered.” He pauses. He’s curious too. “What are you trying to do?”
“It’s like,” says Gerard. He closes his sketchbook. “I hate to say this, but it’s a statement, you know?”
“Putting your hand down Frank’s pants?” asks Kevin.
“No, no,” says Gerard. “I mean, yes! That’s part of it. The real part of it is that it’s okay. It’s the kids, and I mean, you, of all people, know what the average age of the Warped concertgoer is this year. We want them to see us and know that things are gonna be okay. It’s something we’ve done before, actually.” He smiles, a kind of apologetic, kind of proud smile. “I dunno why, I get crazy on these tours sometimes. So many assholes, you know? I just want to create a safe space. I want people to know that like, there’s someone in the world who cares about them and understands what it’s like.”
“Oh,” says Kevin.
“Yeah,” says Gerard. “I’d tell you to try it, as like, a statement of support, but I think it might be illegal.”
“I don’t want to kiss Joe,” says Kevin, putting his hands over his mouth.
“Yeah, that’s not the best message, probably,” says Gerard. “I don’t kiss my brother either. Or, not that often, anyway.” He looks sheepish.
“Yeah,” says Kevin.
They stare at each other.
“I have to go,” says Kevin, and he leaves the bus at a very fast walk, head ducked down as he weaves between the buses, praying he doesn’t bump into one of his brothers.
--
It’s less like superheroes and more like ninjas with swords but either way Joe ends up with face paint and a cape, with one arm around William, and other pointing a steak knife at a team of masked evil-doers.
It’s more or less the most perfect shot. He needs to call Demi and brag. She’s gonna be so jealous.
“Got it,” says Jack. Members of We The Kings and The Academy Is take off their masks. Joe lets go of William. William passes a hand through his hair and grins at Joe.
“We just got like, twenty-thousand new fans,” says Sisky. He sounds kind of awed, but he’s wearing a tutu, so Joe doesn’t know for sure.
“I need someone to close this shit,” says Jack. “This is one for the books, you know?”
“Nick,” says Joe. He starts to untie the cape. “Get Nick to do it.”
--
Kevin is sitting alone in catering when Gerard and Ray find him. He tries not to look disappointed when they swing into the two empty seats across from him.
“We missed you all day,” says Gerard.
“Where’ve you been?” asks Ray. “I got a lead on a pedal steel in Utah next week!”
Kevin puts down his fork and says, “I think your band made me gay.” Then he wants to stab himself in the hand with his fork. He pushes his fork away, across the table, onto the floor.
“Aw, shit,” says Ray, and he gets up and heads over to one of the catering lines. Kevin slumps.
“Really?” says Gerard.
Kevin nods miserably. He wants to throw up, now that he’s said it. He can’t take it back now.
Ray returns with a vegan cupcake and three smoothies. Kevin doesn’t know if he’s capable of eating right now, but he manages a weak smile at Ray, who nods. He looks serious, thoughtful with his lips pursed around the bright green straw of his smoothie.
“I don’t think it was our band,” says Gerard, finally. He sips on his smoothie. “But I’m flattered by the compliment.”
“Yeah,” says Ray. “Thanks.”
Kevin, despite himself, laughs. It sounds a little bit like a sob.
Ray thrusts the cupcake at him. “Congratulations, man. It’s a good day.”
Kevin takes it. “You won’t tell anyone?” he says.
“That Frank’s hot ass made you realize you’re gay? Nah,” says Gerard. “Not that anyone would blame you, you know?”
Ray elbows him. Gerard looks thoughtful. “You shouldn’t keep that shit all locked up though. It’s unhealthy.”
“It’s your fault,” grumps Kevin. He takes a bite of the cupcake. Gerard laughs.
Ray shakes his head. “Man, I can’t believe it. For all your fucking lectures, all those kids in the scene, Gee! And we get a fucking Jonas Brother!”
Gerard smiles, at him, at Ray.
Kevin puts his head in his arms. Ray nudges his elbow with a smoothie.
--
“Wait!” says Nick. “Wait, I can do better.” He clears his throat. Charlotte fixes her hair. They lean in.
“I’m Nicholas Sometimes--”
“I’m Charlotte Jonas--”
“And you’re watching TAI TV.”
“Awesome,” says Jack. “That was great.”
Joe grins from the side and holds out a hand. Nick high-fives him.
--
Joe is really enjoying this phone call. “I star in an episode of TAI TV,” he brags. “I save William Beckett!”
“I hate you,” says Demi.
“You’re not even punk,” says Miley, “how the hell did you get onto Warped?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” says Joe. He stretches out on the couch. William laughs at him. “Yeah, I’m actually on their bus right now.”
“Oh my god,” says Miley. “Is William there? Demi won’t shut up about him. He’s really cute.”
“Shut up,” says Demi. “He’s probably got us on speaker phone. They’re probably laughing at us right now.”
Joe holds out his phone to William. “Demi wants to talk to you.”
“No, I don’t,” she shouts. “Miley, hang up.”
Gabe snatches the phone up before she can and puts it on speaker. “Yo, Miley!”
“Yeah, what,” says Miley. “Who is this?”
“Gabe Saporta, don’t you remember me?” he asks, grinning.
“Oh you,” she says. “You! Take care of Joe. He’s special.”
“Yeah, yeah,” says Gabe. “Special like your brother, right?”
“No, shut up,” says Miley. “Trace is - look, if you don’t take care of Joe, I’ll beat the crud out of you. Demi will help.”
“Yeah,” says Demi. “I will. You’ll be hurting.”
“And then I’ll sell those photos of you to the paparazzi,” she continues. “You know the ones.”
“Yeah!” says Demi. “Ooh, those are good photos.”
“You said you wouldn’t show anyone!” shouts Gabe, dropping the phone. William catches it and hands it back to Joe. “Your girls fight dirty.”
“Takin’ care of our own,” says Miley. “Ain’t that right, Joe?”
“Yeah,” he says. He grins. “Yeah, definitely.”
--
Big Rob carries Nick out of the back lounge and Felicia cajoles the both of them into bed. The bus is silent, except for the continuous murmur of Newsies with the volume turned low. Kevin rubs his eyes.
Joe yawns.
Kevin yawns back.
Joe kicks him and says, apropos of nothing except a blank stare at the television, “I really had a thing for Medda when I was younger.”
Kevin stares at him.
“Not like that,” says Joe. He slumps over. “I mean yeah, totally like that, but also. I don’t know. She’s really cool. She saves the day.”
“What?” says Kevin.
Joe yawns again. “You were a Sarah dude, right? I remember that.”
Kevin can’t remember being particular to either woman, romantically, and he figures now is a good time to say so. “I think I’m gay,” he says, sitting up, and then lying down, and then sitting up again. “I think I’m. Yeah. I don’t know, actually.”
“Oh,” says Joe. He sits up and looks at Kevin. “So, like. Christian Bale?”
“I don’t know,” says Kevin. “Maybe. Probably.”
“Oh,” says Joe. “Uh.” He half-smiles. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Me either,” says Kevin.
“How long have you, uh- ” says Joe.
“Just this summer,” says Kevin. “But I don’t know. I think. It feels right. More right.”
“Yeah, okay,” says Joe. “Cool, that’s. Uh. Are you cool?”
“Yeah, I think so,” says Kevin. He is. Actually. He is, he really is. Joe hasn’t leapt out a window or even brought up Disney, or their father, or their fans, or any of it. Kevin’s thankful. He feels kind of peaceful, for some reason. “Yeah. I am.”
“Good,” says Joe. “Um. Good.”
They fall silent and pretend to watch the movie, sitting straight up, arms folded.
“Tell me if you ever aren’t,” says Joe. “That sounds really stupid, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” says Kevin. “It does. But I will. Thanks.”
“Seriously,” presses Joe.
“Promise,” says Kevin and he smiles. Joe smiles too. “Okay,” he repeats, and he flops over again, kicking Kevin in the thigh and singing along, quietly, with the movie.
Kevin sits back a little, and takes a deep breath.
--
Nick stops the show in the middle, right after “Lovebug,” just like they planned, and says, hesitantly, “Hey guys.”
Joe and Kevin pause, in the midst talking to crowd. “Yeah Nick?” asks Joe, exaggerated and obvious in his confusion. “Everything all right?”
“Guys,” says Nick, putting his hands on his thighs and leaning close to the microphone. “I gotta talk to you.”
“You know you can tell us anything,” says Kevin, all smiles. “We are your brothers - you can trust us!” He even puts down his guitar. The crowd is at a semi-hush, screams turned down to indoor voices. Nick sneaks a look at the side of the stage. Everyone looks confused, even Lyman, but hilariously so, as they’d talked to him earlier in the day, asked him if it was alright.
“Yeah, about that. This whole band. . .thing,” says Nick. “The Jonas Brothers. It’s not working out.”
“What?” says Joe, looking betrayed. “What are you saying, Nick?”
“You’re fired,” he says. “Both of you. I’m forming a new band.”
The crowd starts booing before he finishes the sentence. Nick shakes his head. Kevin’s laughing outwardly, waving his hands at the crowd. Nick raises a hand to the audience. “Hey guys, meet my new band.”
Charlotte takes the stage at a run, knocking Joe out of the way for his microphone. Bob follows, waving at the crowd.
“We’re called Mikey and the Ways,” says Nick, cocking his head at the side of the stage. He puts his hands on the keyboard. Gerard and Frank are laughing, but Mikey looks confused. “This is a song about unicorns.”
There’s screaming again, but it’s of a different kind, rooted in the back of the crowd and slowly erupting in the front. It sounds a lot like laughter.
--
“They’re not really fired,” says Nick. He jumps on Joe’s back. “Don’t worry.”
“You’ve all been great, thank you, good night,” says Kevin. He waves, smiling.
“See you soon,” says Joe, into the mic, right before he falls over into Kevin, and the three of them tumble to the ground, laughing.
--
Mikey takes Charlotte and Nick for ice cream, and he talks the entire way in half-sentences punctuated by laughter. Nick makes them stop at a Wal-Mart. The store is completely out of water slides, but they have got a couple of cheap, blow-up kiddie pools.
Nick buys two.
The next day, it’s as hot as it’s ever been. Nick sets up a pool outside his bus all by himself. He takes off his shirt, and puts on some shorts that Gabe Saporta gifted him with. They say ‘kiss my sass’ on the back; Nick doesn’t really get it. He sits down in his pool and flings his legs over the side. It’s nice and cool.
Felicia steps off the bus, talking a mile a minute on her blackberry. She pauses at the sight of him, and her left eye twitches.
“No photos,” she says finally, one hand on her hip. “No photos, no red plastic cups. And no video, for the love of god.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says, relaxing.
“And no girls,” she says, squinting at the buses around them, as if paparazzi are lying in wait for the minute she’s not there to throw rocks and lawsuits at them.
“But Charlotte!” he says. “She’s coming over!”
Felicia sighs and says, “No photos,” and she sort of smiles at him, and stalks off.
Joe and Kevin come back from catering, carrying smoothies. Joe hands Nick one. “What’s this?”
“Pool party,” says Nick. “You’re invited. Felicia says no photos and no red plastic cups.”
Kevin goes on to the bus and comes back with two lawn chairs. He’s settled down with his jeans rolled up and his feet in the water next to Nick’s thigh, when William and Travis walk by. Joe waves at them and they walk over, smiling.
“Pool party,” says William, nodding. “Smart.”
“Felicia says no photos and no red plastic cups,” says Nick. “But you’re still invited.”
“Huh,” says Travis, looking down at his own red plastic cup. “Well. Rules is rules. Right Billvy?”
“Who are we to question the word of Felicia?” says William.
He hooks his arm around Travis'. They down the contents of their cups and toss them over their shoulders. Nick gets up to get his second pool from the bus. When he comes back, Gabe has taken his place in the pool, jeans and all, and Charlotte’s sitting across from Kevin and Mikey, shuffling a pack of cards. Joe is scribbling on the back of a couple of promo posters.
Travis and William help him fill the second pool and they climb right in. “What’re you doing?” asks Nick, sitting down on the sidewalk next to Joe. Joe holds up a poster. Felicia says no photos, no red plastic cups.
“She said no girls too, but then she changed her mind,” says Nick.
“Did she?” says Charlotte.
“Fuck that,” says Travis.
“You really shouldn’t use electronics in a pool,” says William to Gabe. Gabe grins at him.
“Why not?” asks Mikey, looking up.
Nick and Joe tape up their posters, just as Butcher and Sisky arrive. “If Felicia says,” says Butcher, shrugging. He drops his cup in the pile with Travis and William’s.
“What’re you playing?” asks Sisky.
“Go fish,” says Mikey.
Nick gets his spot in the pool back when the rest of Cobra Starship show up, ceremoniously dropping their cups into the cup pile and Gabe gets up to embrace them all. Frank comes by a little bit later and squeezes into the baby pool with Nick, arm slung around his shoulder.
“Fuckin’ great song you did for Mikey,” he says, giggling. “Where’s my song?”
“Next time,” says Nick.
“Next year will be our year, baby,” says Frank. And then he shouts out to a couple of guys who’ve wandered over. “Yo! Read the sign, motherfuckers!”
They apologize, laughing. Butcher and Frank start to stack the cups in a pyramid. Ray hands Kevin a banjo and Gabe attempts to get William to square dance with him. Joe looks pained and comes back and sits next to Nick outside the pool, one hand tracing circles on the surface of the water. A lot more people join in the Go Fish game, but Nick gets distracted by Kevin Lyman, walking past the group with a bemused look on his face. Nick waves.
Kevin Lyman hands his red plastic cup to Butcher and walks over. “Tight,” he says. “This might be the cleanest party we’ve ever had on Warped.” He glances at the Twister game that Katy brought, and snorts. “Maybe.”
“Thanks,” says Nick. “You’re, uh, invited.”
Lyman laughs. “Thanks.” He looks around again. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it out here.”
“Yeah,” says Nick. Lyman looks at him. “We are.” Joe is silent next to him. Nick cups some water and dumps it on Joe’s knees. “It was weird at first? But it’s been a lot of fun.” He grins. “Thanks for inviting us.”
“Yeah,” echoes Joe suddenly. “We’re having fun.” He splashes Nick.
“Of course,” says Lyman. “I’m glad you decided to come. I knew it’d be weird, but I thought it could be good for you guys. Good for us too. I’ve really enjoyed having you guys out here.” He smiles.
“It’s been good,” says Kevin, standing next to Lyman, banjo in hand. He looks happier than Nick has seen in a while. It make him smile. “It’s been awesome.”
“We’ve got popsicles!” shouts Gabe. “Who wants one? Nicky, baby, you’re first ‘cause you’re so sexy. Green or purple?”
“Green,” says Nick. “I want green.”
“I’ll give you two if you write me a song like you wrote Mikey Way a song,” says Gabe.
“We’ll see,” says Nick. “Maybe next year.”
Gabe gives him two anyway.
Stealing from Katy Perry
Kevin and the Purple Popsicle