Amanda Pierce, 19-year-old daughter of Deseret Morning News TV critic Scott D. Pierce, recalls her recent after-show meeting with members of the band My Chemical Romance ... and their security guards. CHICAGO — I got to meet My Chemical Romance, and I didn't even get arrested. I got threatened with arrest, but I didn't get arrested.
On Dec. 15, my friends and I were in Chicago, where we'd flown for one reason and one reason only — to see My Chemical Romance perform. We stood outside the Aragon Ballroom in the freezing cold from 7 a.m. until they let us in at 6 p.m., and the concert itself was without a doubt the best show I've ever seen.
But the night didn't end when the concert was over at 11 p.m. About 20 of us hard-core My Chem fans went to wait by the buses for a chance to say hi to the band, and we were ready for a long night.
Venue security, however, was not. At about 11:30 p.m., a guard ordered us to leave immediately. We ignored him, talking quietly and making new friends.
Then another security guard started screaming, threatening to call the police. "My Chemical Romance isn't coming out tonight," he said. "I wish they were good people, but they just don't care about you."
And a number of discouraged fans did leave at that point.
I, on the other hand, just got angry. Not only was security being unnecessarily rude and forceful, they were blaming the band.
With five security guards yelling at us, we got up and walked a few feet down the sidewalk. At that moment, out walked Brian Schechter, MCR's manager, looking confused and frustrated. "It's OK for them to wait," he told security.
But not 30 seconds after Schechter went back inside, security was threatening us again. Still, Schechter had given us hope.
We thought that if we went across the street, security would leave us alone. Oh, how wrong we were. Three police cars showed up, lights blazing and sirens blaring. Half a dozen police officers came up to us, swinging their handcuffs and threatening us with "consequences."
It seemed now was the time to go. As we walked away, the tour buses pulled out and we waved, looking more than a little disappointed. Our disappointment quickly turned to astonishment as the buses pulled into a public parking lot across the street. Had they really just moved from the venue so we could wait to meet them?
All it took was another three hours in the freezing cold to find out. We huddled together with strangers to stay warm, and at about 2:30 a.m. the band arrived.
Vocalist Gerard Way was first. A guy in his mid-20s told him, "Thank you for everything the band has done for me," and burst into tears as Way hugged him.
About this time, my friend Kat and I found a hotel-room key on the ground next to the bus. Thinking it might belong to somebody connected to the band, I pushed Kat toward two people we thought were a couple of roadies — but it was bassist Mikey Way and his bodyguard.
Kat approached Mikey, holding out the key. He shrank back, looking uncomfortable until she explained the situation. Then he smiled, thanking her before he climbed on the bus; he was too sick to stay out and mingle. (It wasn't until we later told my father this story that we realized what Mikey must have been thinking when Kat approached him, offering a hotel-room key!)
Drummer Bob Bryar was obviously feeling better than Mikey. He jumped from the bus, hands raised in the air like a superhero, making everyone laugh. Guitarist Ray Toro came strolling across the street and quickly became involved with another fan in a conversation about guitars.
Finally, guitarist Frank Iero came over and started posing for photos with each fan, taking time to comment on how "dumb" he looked and trying to make sure his eyes weren't closed in each shot.
Night was turning into morning when Schechter and Worm (the band's personal bodyguard) came over and told Iero it was time to go. Iero hadn't had a chance to talk to all the fans yet, so he started frantically running around and signing autographs for as many as he could. Schechter once again told him it was time to go, and Iero, with a look of panic in his eyes, began giving out hugs at warp speed.
Finally, Worm had to step in and literally carry Iero onto the bus — as Iero stretched out his arms toward the fans and called, "Goodbye!"
I was 1,400 miles from home. I spent 16 hours outside, with only a jacket over my T-shirt to protect me from the freezing cold. I wore garbage bags on my feet to stay warm. I almost got arrested for trespassing on a public sidewalk. I was never so tired in my life.
But I wouldn't change a thing. In fact, I would go through twice as much just to experience half of what I did.