Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Mom, I’ll be okay, alright?” Clarissa, or Clary O’Halloran assured her mom. They were outside in the warm, humid Florida air. It was early morning, only nine o’clock A.M. and they were at the amphitheater where Projekt Revolution was being held this year in southern Florida. And of course, some of her favorite bands, such as Mindless Self Indulgence, Placebo, and Saosin were performing. And, most importantly, My Chemical Romance.

”Alright, but stay away from any mosh pits, okay?”

“Mom!” she whined.

“I’m serious! I don’t want you coming home with a black eye and a broken arm like last time!”

“Mom, I wasn’t in the pit that time! That was because Bailey decided it would be funny to knock me down while we were waiting!”

“Clary!” she scolded.

“Oh fine mom. I’ll do my best, but I’m up in the lawn. I can’t guarantee that I can avoid the moshing entirely,” Clary explained.

“Well do your best. I love you hon, be careful!” she said.

“Love you too mom.” And then her mom drove away, and Clary solitarily walked where the line to get inside was forming. Already it was way past the gates and going all the way to the sides. And there was still another half hour until the gates would open.

“Clary!” A voice called out as she walked towards the line. She glanced to the side to be met with her best friend of thirteen years calling out to her. She walked over to an overexcited Morgan Grant, her reddish brown hair swaying in the light summer wind and her brown eyes were full of enthusiasm.

“Hey Morgue! How long have you been here?” Clary asked, taking a place beside her, hearing the disgruntled groans of the people behind her.

“Well I’ve – “

“Hold that thought,” she told her friend as she received a text message. Just as she anticipated, it was from her mother. She rolled her eyes, before sliding her phone back in her black and grey striped, star tote. “Okay, continue.”

“I’ve been here since seven. My brother decided it would be entertaining to pour his Lucky Charms on me while I was sleeping at FIVE in the morning today.”

“That’s why I smell marshmallows!” Clary joked.

”I swear, I took three showers this morning and I still smell like cereal!”

“Aw, it’s okay. Some guys would find it sexy!”

“Not funny!” Morgan said, stifling her giggle.

“Yeah, well – hey! You stole my shirt!” Clary eyed the Lost Boys tee she sported atop her fitting black Capri pants.

“No, I borrowed this when you stole mine on that camping trip three weeks ago. Besides, that’s the shirt you stole from me!” She tried to look menacing as she noticed the black and grey striped tank that rested above the black pleated skirt.

“Yeah, well we’re both kleptomaniacs. Truce?”

“As always.” They shook hands, and turned back to the crowd ahead of them. Just then, Morgan yawned loudly, attempting to cover her wide, open mouth with her pale palm.

“Aw, is Morguey sweepy?” Clary mocked in a baby tone.

“Hush you!” she said with a laugh. Just then, people were beginning to move forward.

“Ugh, finally!” Clary said with a groan as they made their way forward.

“So, where’s Bailey?” Morgan asked, not hiding her hostility. The two really didn’t get along.

“She was going to come until she found out I wasn’t getting seats. She backed out immediately. She said, and I quote, ‘Ew! I’m not dealing with a bunch of slimy and sweaty drunks and moshers! That’s gross!’. As I said, her words, not mine.”

“But dude, the drunks are the funniest! I mean, when I went to Rush, there was this drunk sitting next to us, it was so funny! He was dancing around with his lawn chair like it was his girlfriend! It was hilarious!”

“And remember when we saw A7X? And we were in the pit? Dude, that drunk couple couldn’t keep it in their pants.”

“And then we accidentally stepped on them when they were on the floor!” Morgan continued.

“And they didn’t even notice!” Clary finished. They were walking through the gates at the point and they turned over their bags to be searched by security. When they were finished, they walked forward and shoved their tickets in the scanner and when they were approved, they went forward.

The crowds surrounding them were overwhelming. People hustled past them and practically through them, and whether they were getting food or buying merchandise, people surrounded them in every direction. They could both imagine what the crowds would be like when the main bands were scheduled to appear.

“You wanna know who should be performing?” Clary asked.

“Who?”

“30 Seconds to Mars. And MCR should be headlining. I’ve got nothing against Linkin Park, but I’ve seen them live before. It is nearly impossible to distinguish the songs when you don’t know what’s coming next.”

“Oh come on, Linkin Park isn’t bad,” Morgan told her.

“I’m not calling them bad, not in the slightest. I like them a lot. Just not live. My Chem is ten times better, and 30 Seconds would be just fantastic here.”

“True,” Morgan agreed.

“Brought money?” Clary asked.

“Yeah. Wanna hit the merch stands before they run out?”

“You bet.” And off they were. It was packed around both sides of the stand, people scrambling to purchase the shirt or hoodie or CD they wanted. They pushed forward until they had a good view of all the shirts.

“I want that one!” Clary pointed to a black My Chemical Romance one. On the front was “My Chemical Romance” written in blood in the Black Parade style, and below it were skeletons playing parade instruments surrounded by blood as well. On the back were tour dates and two skulls on either side with blood oozing out of their mouths.

“That one’s cool! But I like the MSI one better.” They each bought the shirts they desired and then went to the back where the secondary bands would be performing, starting with Madina Lake and ending with Mindless Self Indulgence.

“Hey, any idea why Julien-K beat MSI in scoring a spot on the main stage?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t know; they haven’t even released an album yet. I just want to see Mindless Self Indulgence. I can’t tell you how many weird stares I got when I told people I wanted to hear them. Listening to them is like listening to Marilyn Manson,” Clary agreed.

Just then, the microphone crackled and the lead singer of Madina Lake came forward and introduced the band.

“Here we go,” Clary said, excitement building within her.

“Oh yeah.”

“Hey Gee, where are you going?” asked Ray, who was tuning his guitar. He plucked a few strings, and then looked at Gerard expectantly.

“Into the crowds,” he replied, grabbing his sunglasses and shrugging on his jacket.

“People are going to recognize you, you know,” Frank told him, who was getting his guitar ready as well.

“Well, we’ll see.” With that, he left the backstage area, flipped up the hood, and waltzed into the buzzing crowds. He got a few stares here and there from people who thought he looked like Gerard, but then looked away, shrugging away their fantasies – ‘oh the irony,’ he thought amusedly.

He walked over to the Revolution Stage to hear the thumping beats of Mindless Self Indulgence and stood off to the side. He peered through the crowds, looking at every person as he did so, for reasons he could not determine. He just found people interesting. He continued his analysis of the moshers until he caught the glance of something in the throng of people. He tried to find it again, and finally he did.

It was hair – copper, curly, and full of volume. It reminded him of…

“Is Ray hiding something from us?” He asked aloud. Only once some passersby heard his voice, he caught the attention of many fangirls until they were swarming around him.

“Oh my God! It’s Gerard!” One of them shouted and then they all came at him.

“Oh s**t!” he yelled, before taking off and heading for the backstage area as rapidly as he could. Panting loudly, he finally made it to his destination, earning strange looks from his bandmates.

“Fangirls?” Frankie asked casually.

“Fangirls,” he confirmed. Then he turned to Ray, who raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. “Ray, we need to talk.”