Emo Trinity x Reader (Book 2)

MCR & Reader - The Five of Us Are Pissed Off

Requested
Summary: MCR is supposed to play a show on TV, but the moderator does not the Readers pronouns; no need to say the band is not happy about that.
Reader: trans!male (y/c/n) = your chosen name
Warnings: insecurity, transphobia, Frank smoking (if anyone has a problem with that)
Word count: 1 205
A/N: I'm gonna say it upfront: I don't know a lot about the problems trans people have to face, so I'm orientating myself at the things my nb best friend tells me. If you feel like I'm being offensive or wrong or whatever, please let me know immediately since this is not my intention and I just don't know any better. Thank you!

"But with all due respect, that's bullshit!"

"Wanna know what's bullshit? The stuff that leaves your mouth."

Wide eyed you watched the exchange that happened right in front of you. It was supposed to be a TV performance, just one in a row of live performances you had played during the past couple of months. With the success of the new MCR album "The Black Parade", the band had been flooded with a ton of requests, and it had gotten to the point where it felt like you were playing more shows in TV studios than in venues in front of a dancing audience. But in all the times you had been invited onto a show, something like this had never happened.

Admittedly, you had swallowed down a couple of comments of people misgendering you, mostly because your friends had been quicker to correct the people, and you had not wanted to make a drama out of it. Then the studio had used your dead name on the name tag, which you had taken the liberty to correct by crossing your birth-name out, and scribbling your chosen name over it.

And then Ray had picked up on the moderator wanting to introduce you by your dead name. Of course he had already tried talking to the man who was dressed in an awful, aubergine coloured suit, but to no avail. So he had headed back to the band, nervously telling everyone what was going on.

You were slightly taken aback, having thought the other stuff had just been thoughtless mistakes. But now that the moderator had officially been told that it was wrong, and still refused to change it- that made you feel sick.

Some part of you wanted to tell the guys to leave it alone. You always felt like you only caused trouble and problems anyway, so you really did not want them to get into a discussion because of your identity, but then again you knew that many kids, and not even kids, adults too, people of different age groups, who felt so different from the body they had to live with, so different from the role society had given them, would watch. These people looked up to you, some of them transgender, like you, some just outsiders, who were trying to come to terms with the thought that it was okay to be your true self.

And if you allowed these people on the show to introduce you with your dead name, to use the wrong pronouns, to treat you like the person you had never been, then you would let down all these people. By now you got mails and letters on a daily basis, telling you how much your courage had inspired people to be themselves, to stand up for themselves. You had to stay true to these people.

So you did not protest when Gerard and Frank had stormed out of the changing room to talk to the moderator again. What amused you slightly, even in this stupid situation, was that Mikey was even ahead of the two hot-heads.

"You okay?"

Ray had stayed behind, shooting you a worried glance.

"Yeah, just wish it wouldn't always be me who causes these problems," you admitted.

"You're not causing the problems, these people are," Ray reminded you, and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

"I'm trying to remind myself of that," you told him, and he grinned encouragingly.

"Let's see where the others ran off to, before they destroy the studio or something."

Following Ray, you soon found your band mates. They were in a heated discussion with the moderator, the director and the producer.

"His name is (y/c/n), is that clear now?"

You had never heard Mikey raise his voice before. And admittedly, it was pretty impressive. You quickly took a mental note never to get on Mikey's bad side; not that you had planned to, but just to be sure.

"But with all due respect, that's bullshit!" The director was beet red in the face.

"Wanna know what's bullshit? The stuff that leaves your mouth."

Of course it was Frank who had responded the fasted, making you shake your head, and you would almost have smiled had you forgotten what they were fighting about.

"Listen man, in the end it's really easy. Either you use his name that you have gotten in our manager's notes, or you go and find yourself another band to play tonight."

Gerard's voice was calm and collected, but his hands were curled into fists, giving away how upset he was.

"Young man, I'm sure your manager would not approve-"

"Don't 'young man' me," Gerard interrupted, "and if you want to know our manager's view on this, here is his number."

Swiftly he had pulled out one of the business cards your manager had given each of you in case problems should arise.

"While you call him, we're gonna wait outside," Gerard decided, the band nodding approvingly.

"You know, making sure we got a cab ready to take us back to the hotel, where we're gonna spend the evening playing dungeons and dragons instead of playing on your show."

You had to bite your tongue in order not to laugh at Mikey's salty comment.

Side by side with Ray, you walked back down the corridor to the changing rooms. The five of you grabbed your jackets and bags with street clothes. Right now it did not matter that you were already in costume. And your instruments were being taken care of by the techies.

Outside the air was cold, but for the first time since you had entered that building you felt like you were able to breath freely again.

"Can you believe this ignorance," Frank sighed, lighting himself a cigarette.

"What a bunch of losers," Ray agreed, stepping to the edge of the side walk to keep an eye out for a cab.

"Thanks for standing up for me," you mumbled.

"Hey, dude, anytime, you know that," reassuringly Mikey patted your back.

You nodded, and managed to give your four friends a grin.

"With you guys I don't have to walk this world alone," you chuckled.

"Did you really have to-"

"Oh god."

"I hate you."

"You're the worst."

You band mates collectively groaned at your reference, but all had fond smiled on their faces.

In that moment Gerard's phone rang, and he quickly picked up. Listening to the voice on the other end, he nodded a couple of times.

"Sure thing – thanks - see you."

"So?"

Curiously Frank looked over to Gerard.

"We can go home," he nodded.

"Should I wave this cab over then," Ray asked to make sure.

"Yes, he said we can go back to the hotel," Gerard announced,

Relieved you nodded. Secretly you had been afraid that you would have to go back in there, and even if they stuck to your chosen name and your pronouns, it would still have made you uneasy.

Luckily the cab had seen Ray immediately, and pulled over. Frank threw his cigarette in the ashtray by the door, and together the five of you climbed into the car, once more with the knowledge that you could always rely on each other.