Hello all! This is just going to be a collection of short little one shots, just about different MCR things. If you guys want, review or PM me with a title or a word and I will write a chapter based off that. :) I'll do Frerard, Frikey, Rikey, basically anything. Except not smut. I'll do make out scenes, but I refuse to do smut. Okay, here you go :)

CHAPTER ONE: HEADPHONES

Kay… I need that heat protection spray stuff, shampoo, and conditioner for Mikey… Ray needs a new brush and conditioner… Frankie needs "extra hold" hairspray… and I need… I need to stop telling the guys I'm going to the store, I thought as I walked up and down the hair care aisles of Wal-Mart. I stopped in front of the hundreds of bottles of shampoo and conditioner. What the heck was I supposed to get Mikey again? I pulled my phone out to call, and then just figured I'd grab whatever.

He WAS always complaining his hair was dry…

I grabbed a bottle of a clear pink liquid that read "STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM MOISTURIZING SHAMPOO". A bottle of opaque pink goo next to it read "STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM MOISTURIZING CONDITIONER". I already had the heat protection stuff, so I had Mikey taken care of. Now onto Frank and Ray.

Ray needed a brush and conditioner. Easy enough. I grabbed a bottle of white goo that I guessed was some sort of frizz control something conditioner. Ray could seriously use some frizz control. I chucked the bottle in the cart and walked to the next aisle. I grabbed a random brush and threw it in, then turned to the hairspray.

There must have been 329 kinds of hairspray.

I didn't want to go through and read every label, so I yanked a tall orange spray bottle off the shelf and put in with the rest of the hair stuff.

I swear, my man card was about to be taken away from me, put in a shredder and burned. I left the hair products and went to the sports supplies aisle just so I could feel like a dude again. I don't even like sports. The hair care aisle was scaring me, and turning me subconsciously girly. I swear, my hips were swaying as I walked away.

After I looked at the footballs and basketballs and browsed through swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated, I felt manly enough to finish my shopping trip. I grabbed the CD I had come for, bought my eyeliner and checked out.

The cashier kept looking at me weird, although I knew it wasn't because I was Gerard Way. I had worn a disguise. My fake mustache that looked pretty freaking real for something that cost 75 cents, a black Green Day beanie covered my messy black hair, and some fake lip rings sat on my lip. It worked, but the chick wouldn't stop looking at me strangely.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, irked by her behavior.

"Huh? Oh, um, no nothing's wrong," she rushed out as she finished scanning my things. I gave her the money and walked away, getting in my rented car and driving back to the hotel.

"YAY! HAIR STUFF!" Mikey squealed as soon as I opened the door. He took the bag with his items and ran into the bathroom. I noticed he wasn't wearing his glasses, but didn't think anything of it as I heard the shower start running. I chucked Frank and Ray's bags onto the couch the two guys were sitting on playing video games.

"There. I'm never doing that again. The cashier kept looking at me funny."

"Maybe it's cause she recognized you?" Ray said, focusing intently on his Mario Kart game. "DAMMIT FRANK! DAMN YOU AND YOUR DAMNED BANANA PEELS!"

"Um, Ray, I was wearing a disguise," I said, peeling the mustache off and pulling the fake metal off my lip.

"Well, maybe it's cause you bought all those hair things," Frank said. "TAKE THAT TORO! EAT BANANA PEEL!"

"Whatever," I said, collapsing on the bed. "I'm going to listen to my CD," I said, pulling the disc out of the case and putting it in the stereo. I pushed my headphones into the jack and turned up the volume a little, closing my eyes.

"We were both young, when I first saw you, I close my eyes, and the flashback starts, you're standing there, on a balcony in summer air…"

"What the hell are you listening to?" Frank asked.

"Iron Maiden…" I answered, not wanting my best friend to know I was a Taylor Swift fan.

"That's not what it sounds like," Frank said, pointing to the stereo.

My headphones were unplugged.