When my friends Alison, Marie, and I hit the road toward Seattle on Friday, July 11, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. We blasted The Black Parade, Three Cheers, and Bullets, singing our hearts out and trading stories about the times we’d seen MCR live over the last two decades. The last time I saw them was on the Taste of Chaos tour in 2005. I never got to experience The Black Parade live back then, but oh boy—was I in for a treat.

I didn’t even think about applying to photograph the show, because I still felt like that teenager who saw MCR as untouchable heroes. There’s no way they would approve a fangirl like me, right? Wrong. Not only was I going to see MCR for the first time in 20 years—I was going to photograph them.

Entering the media room, I immediately noticed that most of the other photographers were femme, and all looked like people I’d want to be friends with. “I wanted to wear an MCR shirt, but I wasn’t sure if that was professional,” one photographer said when she noticed my shirt (made by fellow fangirl Gabrielle Ravet—more on her later). I explained that when I started out photographing bands, I felt the same way and often tried to hide my fandom, but it was cool to be a fan and be excited. My comment sparked a chain reaction: everyone started sharing their love for MCR, and even the security guard nearby chimed in to express her fandom.

Shortly after 8 p.m., we were escorted into the photo pit. As we walked through the enormous crowd and drew closer to the stage, I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. Please don’t faint in front of Gerard, I thought to myself. I immediately spotted a familiar face in the front row: Gabrielle Ravet, a fellow photographer from NYC by way of France. After her art show A Fangirl’s Diary ran shortly after my Fangirl show, we bonded online and even traded the T-shirts we’d made for our exhibitions—hers a black baby tee with a photo of a girl sporting an MCR tramp stamp (the shirt I wore to the show!). It was so special to finally meet her—especially like this.

Waiting for MCR to take the stage, I took a moment to be present, soaking it all in and feeling so thankful to be there. When Gerard, Mikey, Frank, and Ray walked out, my eyes flooded with tears. I thanked the autofocus gods and shot through the tears, trying not to miss a second. They opened with “The End,” which meant my dream had come true: they were going to play The Black Parade in its entirety, front to back.

After shooting the first three songs, I ran to find Marie and Alison at our seats on the floor. Marie was already in tears, and it was only the beginning. Powering through a full theatrical production of The Black Parade—complete with a democratic voting process, murder, pyrotechnics, and clowns—MCR sounded and looked better than ever. They even added a new transition in “Mama”—a dagger, a dagger, please fetch me a dagger—a nod to the cryptic Instagram post they’d made a few days earlier, which sent fans (myself included) into a frenzy hoping for a new song. As much as I’d love new music, I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest—the theatrics hit me right in the feels.

Dropping out of the bridge in “Famous Last Words,” Gerard stood and listened as the crowd of 40,000+ sang in unison:

I see you lying next to me
With words I thought I’d never speak
Awake and unafraid
Asleep or dead.

The Black Parade concluded with Gerard’s “death” and the band members being kidnapped—only for them to reappear on the smaller, stripped-down circular B-stage in the middle of the crowd. “We’re gonna play some older stuff for you now, if that’s okay…or is it not okay?” Gerard teased, before launching into “I’m Not Okay.” They followed up with deep cuts from Bullets and hits from Danger Days, closing with “Helena.” I screamed every word.

Now, as I sit in the car on the drive home typing this up, I have no voice left—and it feels great. The scratch in my throat is a reminder of the joy I shared last night.

Back at the hotel, it all started to feel real. I grabbed my camera, cuddled up in bed with my girlfriends, and scrolled through my photos, all of us sighing and screaming over each shot.

I kept waking up throughout the night with a different MCR song stuck in my head. Memories of the show serenaded me back to sleep. Walking around Seattle the morning after felt like attending an emo convention—MCR merch was everywhere. I wore mine, too, exchanging high-fives and knowing smiles with every fan I passed.

Being an MCR fan is truly the best. I highly recommend it. You’ll never feel alone again.