A Day Late or a Dollar Short (MCR Fanfic); Part 1/?
Title: A Day Late or a Dollar Short (part 1/?)
Author: lithium_velvet
Pairing: Frank/Gerard (eventually)
Rating: NC-17 later
Summary: Sitting in the back of the van wasn’t much fun, and Frank longed to light up a smoke, but since this van was only a hire one (their driver had rolled their last van into a ditch, so they were hiring this one until they could get theirs back from the garage) he was not allowed.
Disclaimer: Ufortunately I do not own MCR :(
strong>Author Notes: 703 words, this chapter is really just an introduction. Sorry nothing really happens in this chapter, but the next chapters will be more interesting. This is my first MyChem fic in a long time so feel free to criticise.
Sitting in the back of the van wasn’t much fun, and Frank longed to light up a smoke, but since this van was only a hire one (their driver had rolled their last van into a ditch, so they were hiring this one until they could get theirs back from the garage) he was not allowed. If the hire company smelt smoke when inspecting the vehicle they would make them buy it or pay for cleaning costs, which was of course impossible when they had barely enough to pay the garage for fixing theirs, and it was a shit van anyway. It didn’t have many miles on it and it ran smoothly. It could hit 75 without breaking down, though why they needed that they did not know. However, it had no air conditioning, no CD player, and the radio was broken. How were they meant to stay entertained on the ever-lasting journeys between venues? They were on tour, so they couldn’t exactly go home and watch a film.
After half an hour of counting the coffee stains on Gerard’s t-shirt, Frank decided enough was enough.
“Bob, can you pull into the next stop? I don’t know about everyone else but I want coffee and a smoke.” Bob had been driving the van since their last driver rolled the old one. The band no longer trusted the old driver, so Bob and Ray now took it in turns to drive.
Within ten minutes the band members were falling out of the van (many of them had pins and needles in their legs by now) and into the parking lot of the service station. Frank fumbled around in his jeans pocket to find his crumpled packet of Marlboros and Gerard disappeared inside for coffee. Queues were short and five minutes later the two were sat on plastic chairs at a table outside the door, waiting for Mikey and Ray. Bob had stayed in the van, and they could hear him cursing from across the car park. Mikey appeared from the restroom, and Ray turned up shortly after, carrying a pile of pizzas and a crate of Mountain Dew. They pulled up their chairs to the table and began talking about the next gig.
“So, I was thinking… Can we swap Headfirst for Halos with Jack the Ripper, and do Skylines and Turnstiles as the encore instead of Astro Zombies?” Ray asked the table. Discussion grew but they knew they couldn’t make decisions about the setlist without Bob, or he’d end up playing something different. Looking over at the van Frank saw a rather happy looking Bob waving at them to come over.
“Dude, I wonder what he’s so chuffed about?” Mikey muttered. “He was already cranky from lack of radio and MTV, and ever since he started driving this morning it’s been impossible to make him smile. I mean I know we bought him that Mr Bean DVD the other day, but we don’t have a DVD player in the van…” Mikey tailed off into all the possibilities of why Bob was smiling so manically, while Gerard started grinning.
“What?” Frank asked Gerard, confused by the sudden change in attitude (caffeine doesn’t kick in that quickly).
As they reached the van they could hear music getting louder and louder. It was coming from the van. Bob began jumping up and down as soon as the rest of the guys were within earshot to be heard over Hanoi Rocks blaring from the speakers. “I got the radio working!” He yelled, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.
The band members stacked the pizza cartons on the back seat and climbed back into the vehicle. As they began to recognise the song the started singing along. Quietly at first, but quickly gaining volume until they might as well be at a gig singing through microphones. Passing slices of pizza to each other, still singing, they pulled out of the service station and back onto the road, all feeling much better now they had food, caffeine, and music in their systems.
But I’m so jaded, dreams faded,
It’s harder than you think,
Loved, hated, frustrated,
I’m the missing link,
Radio and MTV - You need people like me!