Title: Guys Like You Make Us Look Bad
Author: jessi_vengeance
Pairing: Brian/Zack
Rating: PG (Language)
Disclaimer: This isn't real, I do not own any of the characters in this piece of fiction.
Dedication: soulmates_never because she helped me decide whether to post this or not.
Guys Like You Make Us Look BadI grabbed my black horn rimmed glasses from the vanity and slid them onto my face. I surveyed the little bit of eyeliner I had on, and made sure it was okay. It wasn't of top importance; I'd sweat it off by the end of the night anyways. I grabbed my light blue sweater from the chair and strode out of the room. I fluffed my hair, adjusted the sweater and glasses and went backstage. I saw my band members, huddled together, shoulder to shoulder. "So what'd I miss?" I asked as I joined in on the huddle.
"Nice of you to join us Zack." Matt mumbled as he wished everyone good luck. I shrugged, causing some difficultly but none that was noted. We broke apart, everyone hitting each other on the back for luck. I grabbed my guitar, strapping it on and adjusting the knobs and strings as I went onstage. The crowd erupted and I smiled in the lime light. I stared down to the girls who were directly in front of me, squealing my name. I smiled to each of them, making this show worth their while. The song picked up, and the crowd sang. I lived for this.
The infamous solo of our band was coming close, and I dreaded it. This was the only part of the show I dreaded, but it needed to be done. Each fan knew it by heart. They knew me and him would go back to back, creating the dueling soloists. Here it was, the time to come. I walked briskly to the middle of the stage, seeing his sweat glistening in the light. I drew a breath and cringed as our backs collided. I played effortlessly, trying to rid this moment for the night. I hated this man, I hated him so much. I didn't want to be near him, I didn't want to see him. Being in the same band together made it so much harder, no less. This man was disgusting; he was the dirt beneath my feet. This man was Brian Haner, Synyster Gates.
I took off my guitar, giving it to the tech with a smile as I grabbed a towel and wiped my brow. "Can someone please get me my glasses and sweater please?" I shouted from backstage as the crowd dwindled and went there own ways. Another tech brought them to me and I nodded to him, walking backstage. I put the glasses back on my face, just for the reason I didn't want to carry them. I attempted to swipe my hair of my eyes, but making minimal success as the threads of hair stuck to my forehead.
"Hey, Zee! Have a couple!" Johnny shouted over the commotion and threw me a beer. I smiled to him and opened it hastily, drinking it down in one. "Wow dude." Johnny muttered as I came closer to him, grabbing another from the cooler. Everything had been catching up with me. Everything was coming to me now, hitting me head on. I and my girlfriend had a fight and we split, just a few weeks before tour. It didn't bother me, but it did. The usual feeling of whatever. Everyone was pressuring me about being great on guitar and not fucking up shows. Not like I would anyway, but there was still that factor that I could. Plus, I had to see that man I hated for two months. Life wasn't opportune right now, but I couldn't complain. I was Zacky Vengeance, and I had everything I wanted.
I walked out of the venue, hearing girls calling my name. I waved limply to them, not even looking as I boarded the bus. I could still hear their screaming as I went inside. "They're all here for you, you know. A7X favorite." Brian muttered as he flipped through a magazine lazily.
"Fuck off. You're the guitar god. Go shake some hands." I said bitterly. He knew all too well why I hated him; he's the one who did it in the first place. Mr. Synyster Gates way too forward man. Everyone knew how he was, and how much of a whore he was. I never thought he would make a move on me.
"Zacky, you're so...beautiful." I heard my best friend utter as we worked on duel solos in the back lounge.
"What?" I asked skeptically. I could have heard wrong, my hearing wasn't its best anymore.
"Your playing dude, it's amazing." He said quickly. I knew I misunderstood. Nothing to worry about Zee, you're freaking yourself out.
"Thanks man." I said with a smile, and we went back to work.
Minutes went by, and nothing was said. Only our fingers on the frets were doing any work at all. "Dude, what I said. I meant it. I didn't mean your playing." Brian suddenly stopped practicing his solo and stared at me.
"What do you mean?" I was playing it like I didn't know. Hell, I didn't want to know.
"You, your face, your eyes, that mouth. Everything...I want you." He came lunging at me, attaching his lips to mine. I could feel him pressing his thin mouth into mine, and I pushed him off of me. It happened so fast, I couldn't react to anything. I touched my lips and looked at him in pure horror as I threw my guitar to the ground and stormed out of the room.
He did it. He made his move, and something I wasn't ready for, much less accept. I was best friends with him, but I wasn't gay. I didn't like guys, I didn't want a guy. I didn't know he was into that, not till then. I didn't know what to do, so I panicked. I freaked out on the man and things were said that shouldn't have been. Did I regret it? Fuck no.
I walked off of the bus, taking Brian's advice I guess you could say. The handful of kids on either side of the bus erupted in screams and I just smiled at them. This was my life, this was everyday. I faked smiles and thanks. I faked things. I didn't want them to know I hated Brian, if they knew...nothing would be right in the world anymore. I hated him for making my life hell. I hated him for kissing me, because it made me hate him. I hated him because I lost my best friend.
I lay in my bunk, waiting for sleep to engulf me. I heard my band mates noisily make their way into their bunks. I felt a kick at my side, and I knew it was deliberate. "What the hell, don't fucking kick me again Brian." I shouted out of my bunk. I lay back down and closed my eyes again. All of them knew, Jimmy knew, Johnny knew, Matt knew. How could they not? We worked with each other each and every day. Each of them wanted to know why we were fighting all the time, and showing pure bitterness at each other anytime we got, but we never told them. I didn't and I assumed Brian didn't either, because they never seemed to approach us about it anymore. They took it as it was and didn't ask and didn't interfere. They just tried to make it so that we weren't around each other, so we could fight. I was happy with this situation, because I didn't have to associate with him. I was hitting sleep now, my body becoming dreamlike and I let it be that way, until I felt a sharp pain at my side and I realized I was being kicked again. "Brian fucking Haner! You goddamn prick!" I just about screamed as I got out of my bunk and stood fully in the middle of the aisle.
"What?" He asked with a smirk as he opened his curtain.
"Why the hell are you kicking me? Grow up asshole and fucking learn." I said scornfully as I got ready to go back in my bunk. He came out of his instead, and stood fully in front of me.
"What the hell are you going to do about it if I don't?" He got in my face and I just about freaked on this man.
"Fucking try me Haner." That was when he opened his mouth, and spit in my face. I reeled my arm back and hit him square in the jaw. He recoiled and grabbed his jaw, looking at me like I wasn't the Zack he knew. I wiped the spit off of my face with the back of my hand and felt pain in my head. I looked back to him, seeing his fist come back from the punch. I saw red and went for him. I jumped on him; punching him in the ribs and stomach. He turned us both over and hit me in the eye. I winced and kicked him off of me, standing again. He stood too, and the bus lurched to a stop as he fell into me.
"What the fuck is going on?!" I heard Jimmy exclaim from behind us. I looked up to him, then back at Brian.
"Get the fuck off of me." I muttered and pushed him off and heard him wince like I had. "Nothing James, get back to bed." I said quietly as I went back into my bunk. I heard Brian mutter something to him as I saw his foot and I knew he was above me, having thoughts about my dead body somewhere. I rolled over, feeling the stinging pain in both my head and eye. I knew this wouldn't result very well in the morning.
I woke up and rolled over in my bunk, groaning softly as I did so. My head ached, as did my eye, and I knew this day was going to be hell. I rolled out of my bunk, hitting the floor and laying there for a second before getting up. I walked to the bathroom, took a piss, and then surveyed myself in the mirror. I had a black eye in full swing; the puffiness making my eye look squinted. My hair was disheveled, like always when I first woke up, and I looked worn. It wasn't even a full week into tour yet, and I looked like hell. This is what that man did to me. I walked back to my bunk, grabbing random pieces of clothing from underneath it, and a pair of sunglasses. I didn't want anyone to be seeing me like this in daylight, let alone at all. I grabbed my hat from the side of the bunk, not wanting to do anything in the least today.
I walked out of the bathroom, down the few stairs and into the front lounge. "Hey Zack, heard about that little scuffle you and Brian had. Don't go fucking things up dude, we don't need that," was the first thing to come out my singers mouth. Always being lectured by that man, always.
"Yeah dude, sorry, misunderstanding." I lied through gritted teeth.
"Good, better have gotten resolved. We got a show tonight, and I don't want anything to go wrong." I just nodded as I walked past him and to the fridge, grabbing some ice for my eye.
I walked off stage, rubbing the sweat out of my eyes and wincing as I did so. I had almost forgotten about my eye, and was rewarded for it. I walked past the tech crew, past the other bands and out of the venue. I was extra glad there were no fans out yet; it was too early for the groupies to congregate. I went into the bus, shutting the door quietly, knowing no one would be on just yet. I went into the bathroom, soaking my face in water then to my bunk. I changed quickly and walked down the stairs for a beer. There were none and I just shook my head. It didn't matter; I couldn't wake up with a hangover to add to the pain of my injuries. I walked back upstairs and lay in my bunk. I rolled over, hearing nothing and seeing the pale gray of the wall, and closed my eyes for sleep.
I replayed the day before, grabbing the same things to cover my face. I walked down the stairs, and again, saw Matt watching something on TV. "Hey man, we didn't see you last night. What was up?"
"I was just tired, real tired." He nodded and I was glad he bought it.
"Dude, be up for today, we got a day off. We're having two interviews with Fuse today." I sighed; all I needed was an interview, right?
"Yeah, totally."
We walked off the bus and into the studio. I saw Steven Smith, the only host we actually interviewed with. He came up to Matt with a huge smile, greeting him then going down the line of us. He smiled as he greeted me too and patted me on the back. "Nice glasses man, can I take a look?" I shrugged, and pulled them off of my face, handing them to him. He put them on and glanced around the place and laughed. I laughed too as he handed them back to me. He looked me in the eye again and his eyes got wide. "Nice work Zack." He said sarcastically, hinting at my eye.
"Yeah thanks for noticing man." I said somewhat jokingly as I put them back on and he finished his greetings. He went back down the line to talk to Matt, and I was guessing to tell him the plans for today. The rest of us stood lazily on the sidelines as we waited.
"Brian did a nice job on you, didn't he?" Johnny said from next to me.
"Yeah, totally. Thanks for that man." I said and shook my head. Johnny laughed and patted me on the back.
"You did quite a number on him too; did you see him on stage last night? Wheezing like he was sixty and limping around with his guitar. You guys need to stick to verbal abuse next time." I laughed, I couldn't afford another black eye and he couldn't afford another fractured rib. I just nodded as Matt came to us all, and made us huddle like usual.
"First off, it's just with Steven, and then we got some Sauce thing or something. Fans are going to be there, so keep a game face, plus it's live." I nodded with everyone else as Matt led us all down the hall as we heard Stevens voice announcing us soon. We got our mics on, checking our faces for the camera before we hit the set. I heard him announce commercial, then saw him get up as he came over to us.
"You guys ready? Just some normal stuff you know." He said quietly as they motioned for him to come back to set. He smiled and nodded to us, introducing a video and the tech crew motioned for us to come to set too. We joined Steven, three of us sitting on the couch, with Jimmy and Johnny behind us on chairs. Then he sat down next to me and I groaned quietly, pushing myself as far away from him as possible. Matt came and sat next to Brian, smiling at Steven as the cameras started to roll.
I sat through the interview, saying a thing or two but just playing it out like I didn't know. I was a little pissed that they let him sit next to me. I could smell his over expensive cologne from where he sat. I was so happy when Steven said we had a break for a while. I wanted to be away from Brian. Before I could squirm my way out of the studio, Matt called my name. "Zack, hey!" he said and came to a stride next to me. We leaned on the building, both careful not to step on cords. "You up for lunch with the rest of us?" I shrugged; I didn't really have a choice in the matter. He smiled, taking me by the shoulders to where the rest of the guys were. I came up to them with Matt as they laughed away at something Jimmy had said. It was always Jimmy who said the most classical things. We both came in on the group, all of them smiling at us, but Brian. I hadn't expected him to, hell, I didn't want him to.
"So where are we going?" Johnny asked as we all left the studio.
We all came back, filled to the brim with food and bits of alcohol. I walked in, drinking the most and having quite a buzz when we were called on set. This time, I wasn't having Brian come sit by me; Jimmy would be there to supervise. Steven came to us again, talking about the same things. He asked about the artwork, and Matt directed the question towards me. I answered truthfully, without even a hint that I had drank before this in my voice. Soon enough, it was time for the fan questions. The first one was for me. "Carrie asks, Zacky, how did you get that black eye?" Steven looked to me with a smile. It had happened two nights ago, and the fans already knew about it.
"Well, Johnny fell out of the bus the other night," the guys erupted in conversation at the mention of Johnny and his antics. I waited then continued, "And he was so mad that he came over to my bunk and gave me a little punch in the eye. Well, not really, my story's way more elaborate, but if I told anyone I'd have to kill them."
"Well I want to live." Steven said and went to the other questions. I had to lie through my teeth to keep our good name anymore. I was used to it, it happened all the time.
I lay in my bunk, again and again and again. It was so repetitive; I played the show, met some diehards, and then came to my bunk. I never got wasted, I never got high, and none of it was appealing anymore. My life was a routine, and I hated it now. I thought when I was like this. I thought about what he did, and how I hated him for it. It wasn't that bad was it? I didn't know. I thought about why he did it, or why I thought he did. I didn't know how I felt about it. I was straight, I liked women, I couldn't be thinking like that. I rolled out of my bunk and got up, nearly tripping on my too long pajama pants in the process. I trudged down the little stairs and to the lounge. No one was there; I hadn't expected them to be. I had the sudden urge to talk to him. I needed to ask him why, I wanted to know. I walked off the bus, bracing the cold. Seeing as it was late November and we were on the east coast, it was chilly. I went back into the venue, scanning the backstage for him. I saw him downing a shot as he laughed with some groupies. I squirmed my way over to him and poked him on the shoulder. His smile faltered when he saw who was poking him. "What?" he said with spite.
"I need to talk to you." I said loud over the music.
"Why? So we can get into another fucking fist fight? No thanks." He turned his back on me, about to drink some more. I turned him around by the shoulder and he showed anger in his eyes.
"Come on Brian, I really need to talk to you." I was sincere and he softened at my words.
"Fine, only for a little bit." He turned around again, saying goodbye to the groupies and following me outside. We went to the side of the building and just stood there for a second as I shook. "Is this what you wanted? To stand out in the fucking cold?"
"No, I want to know why." I mumbled.
"Why what?"
"Why you kissed me Brian, that's what!" I exclaimed and he looked taken aback.
"That happened so damn long ago Zack, why the hell would you ask now?"
"I want to know if I should've hated my best friend for doing what he did. I want to know if I was justified in losing you as one." He sighed and grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. They were Marlboro reds, both of our favorites. He nodded his head to me as he grabbed one out and I took one. "Thanks." I said quietly as he lit up and threw the lighter to me. I inhaled, feeling the familiar sensation of toxins going into my lungs, and I welcomed it.
"So you really want to know, huh?" I nodded. "What do you see in yourself when you look in the mirror?"
"I see me, I see Zachary James Baker. I see a guitar player, I see a man." I shrugged; I didn't know what I saw in myself.
"You know what I see when I look at you Zack?" I looked to him as he stubbed the cigarette out with his shoe. "I see a man, a wonderful man who I loved and was my best friend. I see a man who still is one of the most beautiful things to come onto this earth. I see one of the best guitar players that I know. I see you." I shuttered again in the cold, but it wasn't due from the weather. No one had said those things, much less this man I had come to hate. "I'm sorry I came onto you like that, okay? I know you're straight, but I just couldn't take it." I finished off my cigarette and threw it on the ground. I couldn't stub it out; due to the fact I was barefoot. "I'm sorry okay, I'm so fucking sorry. I couldn't have the balls to say it before, and the way you acted Zack. I mean come on dude, but I miss my best friend." I sighed, I missed him too.
"I know I acted like a fucking fool. It was unexpected Brian, and you know that. I didn't know what the fuck to do. My best friend just fucking came onto me, what would you do?"
"I'd do the same thing. I'd fucking run away and hate everything dude."
"Yeah, we both know each other too well. Regardless, I'm sorry of how I acted too. I miss my best friend dude." He smiled in the streetlight, causing me to smile as well. He came over to me and we hugged. I sighed once we broke apart, and he took me by the shoulders and back into the venue.
I awoke the next morning in an unfamiliar place. I looked around, and felt an arm around my waist. I looked down, and saw myself only in boxers. I saw an arm, covered with tattoos. Tattoos only one man had. I turned over and saw Brian laying there, clad in his boxers, sleeping soundly. I just sat there, I just sat there. I sighed and lay back down. I couldn't hate the man I loved, could I?
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