Author's Note!
My own caregiver hates My Chemical Romance so much , because I just recently bought a My Chemical Romance t shirt from Hot Topic , and she had to research who the band is and the lead singer of it .
I had to tell her ( and my brother , who liked the shirt ) that MCR rocks and that Gerard Way is a major hottie ( I was making a reference to My Immortal , the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction , she got angry with me about that ) , and she got so angry with me that she had to look up who the band is and who Gerard Way is .
She claimed the band makes satanic and scary music and she said Gerard is so ugly because he is pale and he is an alien , as she would always call white people that .
She also believed that because of all of the TikToks she had to see regarding Gerard and MCR , I shouldn 't listen to My Chemical Romance 's muaic anymore , because she found it evil and scary , and she thinks their music sends spirits into my home .
I was like , really , what the fuck ?
She hated my MCR t shirt and she wanted to find a way to burn it off , all because she believes MCR are satanists and that Gerard is ugly and looks like he 's gay and also said he looks like a dead zombie in most of their music videos .
She even had the nerves to say that My Chemical Romance is music my dad would like . My father was a big fan of Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles ' music , what the fuck is she even saying ?
She even compared Gerard to my father , I fucking can 't stand her when she compares me to my father so much !
I felt so depressed last night .
My caregiver didn 't even do that much good research about My Chemical Romance and who they all are . She just sees them as a band who makes satanic music .
I told her MCR isn 't that kind of band !
She got super angry , recognising all of the symbolism behind the t shirt I bought from Hot Topic , and she saw how scary it was and how demonic it looked .
I told her that this shirt is from the Black Parade era , and she doesn 't even care . She doesn 't know jack shit about the band , if she 's going to criticise my favourite kind of music .
My Chemical Romance teaches people how to be yourself and how to respect your own manners . That 's what their biggest goal is , to save people and save people 's lives .
After I told her that , she got mad at me , saying it 's something the pedophiles and human traffickers would say to you if you met them . Why the fuck is she comparing MCR to pedophiles and human traffickers ?
My own caregiver is just getting on my nerves now . Now I can 't listen to My Chemical Romance 's music anymore , because it sends spirits and dead souls to my home ?
My own caregiver doesn 't know any mortals about everything I love . She 's just a big conspiracy theorist , for sure , though !
Chapter 10 is here ! Let 's enjoy chapter 10 of My Name is Jeff , shall we ? And here we go !
Jeff kicked at stones on the ground as he walked after putting a grenade on top of his house, furious. He was furious at how Pierre Bouvier stole his limelight. He was furious at him, for saying the things he'd said. But mostly, he was furious at himself. He convinced his friends not to trust Pierre or any of the other male singers in Canada.
Jeff ignored the obvious warning signs on the streets that it was a sketchy place. Every male singer from his hometown of Montréal, Québec, had been a horrible friend. And now, here he was, walking away from his problems, because he simply couldn't face them on his own.
"You idiot. You coward. Why couldn't you just talk things out like a normal person? Why do you have to be like this? You stupid bastard!" Jeff said as he comes across a car belonging to Pierre, punching it as if it was Pierre himself.
"I have to get my singing career back," he said.
Despite how hurt he was about his records being burned inside of a fire thanks to Pierre and Arnold Lanni (who was the songwriter and producer for the first and second albums of Simple Plan), Jeff still cared about his singing career. He had to find a way to get to the end and beat the dragon before Pierre steals it from him and steals his spotlight before it's too late.
"Thinking about something already," he said, questioning to himself. "I need to come up with something."
Jeff had been wandering aimlessly as he thought, trying to meet up with Shelly Cole and Rodrigo Santoro, but as the sun grew higher in the sky and he replayed Pierre's words to him in his mind, an idea began to dawn on him.
"Go steal his spotlight, Jeff," Rodrigo said in distance ten feet away from Jeff.
"Do it for your daughters and your son," Shelly said, also in distance with Rodrigo ten feet away.
"I'll just forget about it," Jeff said in a sad way.
At around noon, Jeff finally accepted that his emotions wasn't coming back to him. Frustration, anger, sadness, hopelessness, helplessness, all welled up inside of his mind, until he was practically choking on emotions. He wanted to cry, but for some reason found himself unable. So, instead, he packed up his belongings and began to walk alone.
"I'm sorry, I can't be perfect," he said.
As he continued his journey toward getting his singing career back, Jeff tried to convince himself that his situation wasn't totally hopeless.
"I still have the tape. And a microphone. And I have a full set of guitars. I've used this microphone not so much for my singing career. How hard can it be?" he said, while walking to his shed in the forest.
The answer, as he knew, was very. He trudged on.
As the day drew to an end, Jeff found himself nearing an abandoned childhood house he lived in with his brother and his parents. He decided to live inside of there, despite termites and bugs being sprawned all over the place. Not much was left of his base, aside from some Bratz dolls with missing body parts and broken sunglasses belonging to him.
"This whole entire place hits so different when I look at it now," he said. "What else can go wrong?"
Still, Jeff found it very hard to reenter his childhood house as he thought back on all the memories he shared with his family from when he was a kid. Learning to play his guitar, finding his voice, joking around, making pretend pizza besides his roommates when he was a teenager. Jeff clamped his jaw shut and set to work creating his own recording studio. The recording studio he always wanted for himself.
When Jeff fixed up his recording studio for the night, the guitars were noticeably louder than before. That gave him hope, something to cling to as he tried to avoid thinking about Pierre.
"I'm sure I will be fine. This recording studio is almost done. If anyone could perform alone in this studio, it's gonna be me," he said, halfway finishing up his studio.
Jeff fell asleep that night with a smile etched into his face sleepy and tired, and his dreams of getting his singing career back, gave him lots of relief into the future.
Jeff was sleeping a few feet above his computer, as he slept his way across his unfinished recording studio.
Six hours has passed over time, and Jeff descended to the ground and tried to grab on to his equipment. He later sees sheets of paper flowing around the room. All those sheets of paper were actually his songs he wrote.
As Jeff found his way figuring out all of the sheets of paper of his solo work and began writing a song he never did before in his life, Jeff felt sure that something great and interesting was going to happen.
"I am ready to sing a song that will capitivate the entire world by storm," Jeff said, happily turning on his equipment for the night. He wasn't furious anymore.
Jeff looked up suddenly from turning his guitar on, to turning his microphone on, as well as his other equipment not in use.
But willing to write his own song, Jeff spun around to face a Bratz doll falling on top of him. He saw a flash of fear in his eyes as he dodged the doll's swing and countered with one of his own, furiously.
Suddenly, more Bratz dolls fell off on top of the studio, and more would fall on top of Jeff again, and again, and again, until Jeff was surrounded in a wave of Yasmin dolls. Jeff smiled as the sea of Yasmin dolls overwhelmed his recording session, helpless to do anything to stop it.
"Being the huge Bratz fan that I am, I love Yasmin and her gorgeous vintage looks. I'm in paradise here!" he said, excitedly. He was amused by all of the Yasmin dolls lying on the ground.
Jeff still wanted to write his song, trying to steady his breathing away from the 101 Bratz dolls falling to his recording studio. That's all it was. He was fine with that, and didn't clean up the mess from the ground. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread which loomed over him like a dark cloud.
"I got to get these songs done in five weeks," he said.
Jeff couldn't get back to sleep. He feels very sleepy and tired, filled with joy as the Bratz dolls tore him apart. He eventually gave up and still managed to write his own songs anyways, to which he judged were only another few hours of singing and songwriting.
Jeff turned on his microphone and plugged it up, and for a second he forgot what had happened to it. He looked around, half expecting to see the song he had wrote, but was instead greeted only by the empty stone walls behind him.
"Let's start recording this song, shall we?" he said in a shy way.
His shoulders drooped as he remembered the previous night. He was still alone. Jeff was ready to record his comeback album in over 11 years since his last studio album in 2001. The thought alone made him anxious, but he told himself to stop thinking about it.
"There's no way that wannabe shitbag wants to take away my spotlight! I can do this," he said. Jeff took a large breath away from his microphone.
Jeff set off recording his song and started to sing in a brief second before stopping. He followed playing a guitar solo for the song.
Jeff recorded his guitar solo just about a minute later. There, he paused for a minute to take his singing lessons before going through.
"I got my singing career back. I got my microphone, my guitar, my equipment, and my headphones. I should be set. I can do this," he said, taking another deep breath before he sings.
Bracing himself for the weird sensation he made himself become in 1995, Jeff stepped through. After taking a second to regain his balance after the feeling of falling asleep, he looked around his recording studio.
With nothing to distract him from his thoughts as he made his decisions to sing his songs, Jeff kept finding himself thinking about a phenomenom he would've been if it wasn't for the likes of Michael Bublé and Justin Bieber. Every time he did, he was met with a wall of guilt and worry that clouded his thoughts until he could think of nothing else.
Jeff desperately hoped his voice was okay, but he had no way of knowing for sure.
"Ahem!" he said, clearing his throat as he gets ready to sing his song.
"Le..." Jeff sung, later clearing his throat nervously. "Li..." Jeff sung again. He intentionally falls on the ground on his recording session.
Sleepy and tired, Jeff never completed his song, and so, he made the biggest mistake of opening up his recording studio, without ever realising he should've had waited some more.
Jeff falls asleep in his recording studio, and the session ended from there. His song was never completed.