Gerard's POV
After a long, tiring concert, the last thing I want to do is get ambushed by a bunch of screaming fans at a meet and greet... But that's exactly what I, and the rest of the guys, have to do right now. There are about 20 people who bought backstage passes, and part of that is getting to meet us. It's not that I don't absolutely love the fans, I'm just tired as hell. The guys and I walk to the room where said event is supposed to take place. When I open the door, all the fans, mostly girls, are already inside. There is a security guard standing next to the door; he closes it behind us after we walk in. Immediately we get attacked, everyone fighting for an autograph or photo. Frank tells everyone to cool it, they'll all get their turn. The fans form a somewhat orderly line, and begin handing us things to sign and pulling us closer for photos and whatnot. Over the crowd, I see a young girl standing awkwardly in the corner. She looks to be alone, not waiting for anyone. She's looking at the ground, as if she's afraid to come over here. I feel bad for her. After everyone has had their fill of autographs and photos, I approach her and put my hand on her shoulder. "Hey," I say, "You alright?" She looks up at me, shocked when she realizes the source of the voice. She smiles.
"Yeah... just sort of intimidated," she replies. She still looks sad, like her smile is fake.
"What, do we scare you?" I joke.
"No, but they do," she says, gesturing toward the fangirls.
"Yeah, they can get pretty crazy," I reply. She remains silent, so I ask, "Do you need a hug?"
She smiles and replies, "That would be nice." She takes a step closer to me and I wrap my arms around her. As her arms wrap around my neck, I can't help but notice the pink and red scars on her wrist. She has a long sleeved shirt on but the sleeves are rolled up a little. Seeing that reminds me of my past, when I was depressed. It makes me sad.
My hands are on her back, up toward her shoulders. Through her thin shirt, I can feel her ribs. They are so distinct that I could count them, just by touching. I know eating disorders exist and I know they effect a lot of young girls, but why? Why are they so obsessed with looking emaciated? Don't they know all that stuff in the magazines is fake? Don't they know it's not healthy?
She pulls away then, and says, "I just wanna say thanks. For everything. You saved my life." I smile. It means a lot to me to know that my band was able to affect someone in that way. I want to tell her everything will be okay, to stop hurting herself, and that I am living proof that life gets better. Before I can, though, she checks the time on her phone and says, "I have to go." she begins walking away, but I stop her by placing my hand gently on her shoulder.
She turns back to me and I say, "Take care." She nods and then continues out the door. Almost all the fans are gone now. The few that still linger are then told by the security guard to leave. They shout their goodbyes to us and we smile and wave.
The guys come over to me and Mikey says, "What was that about, with the girl?" I tell them what I noticed about her, and what I should've said but didn't. Their smiles fade out of pity for her.
"There's nothing you can do now," Frank says, "Just try not to let it get to you." As much as I try to put it out of my mind, I can't. There's always that one fan that just gets to you...