Vengeance Banks In

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” I was rudely pushed from my bunk to the ground; someone forgot I had a concussion and stitches in my head. “Oops, I didn’t mean to actually—I’m sorry.”

“Asshole,” I murmured narrowing my eyes up at Synyster—he looked pretty sexy with his hair all disheveled and his eyes smudged with day old eyeliner and—Nah. “Go fuck a duck and leave me alone, doctors orders that I should rest.”

“Rest, not sleep all day, its three,” he helped me stand up, where he pinched my butt as a joke. “And I rather the bigger things, ducks are to small. I like big butts and I cannot lie.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” I forgot about my head injury for a moment and decided to tackle him to the ground, which I did and started beating his chest. Enough to make him scream for help, I probably left bruises. “Pinch my ass again, perv and see what happens next time.”

“Sorry,” Synyster laughed for some reason as Jimmy and Matt helped him up from his spot on the floor, when they stood him up he grasped his chest. “You hit my nipples…”

“Hope it bruises,” I stuck my tongue out and pushed past him, earning another yowl of pain when I elbowed him in the ribs. “And I hope that breaks!”

“Your worse than Johnny,” I could hear him laughing, he took pain all to well and it was just plain weird. I continued my trekking to the kitchen where I half asleep made a bowl of trix cereal and sat down beside Zacky.

“I hate him,” I said before I looked at Zacky, who just smiled and looked down at the bowl in my hands.

“You’re still asleep aren’t you?” he questioned the obvious, when I raised an eyebrow to ask why he would ask such stupid questions, he pointed to the bowl and merely stated this: “That’s not milk, that’s whiskey.”

“What?” I murmured and looked down; sure enough it wasn’t white that made the little pebbles float, but a dark syrupy color that smelled strongly of alcohol. “You want it?”

“Why not?” he took it from me and tasted it. “Not bad…”

“Your gross,” I said matter-of-factly and looked across the room to Johnny, who was on the phone. I could tell he was talking to my mother, mainly because he had that googly eye look he got when he spoke to her, about her or around her and the other fact was because he was saying sweetie, honey, baby and bunny which was my favorite, it was just so…pathetic. In a good way though. “Can someone make me some breakfast? I can’t make it myself, I’m all fucked up.”

“You’re lucky I’m up,” Matt walked in, stopped at the kitchen and spoke before he started making me a bowl of cereal. “Oh, I talked with Val last night. She said get well soon, she’ll see you at the Chicago show, she’s coming up for New Years Eve to watch and spend with us.”

“That’s what—four days away?”

“Something like that,” he tried to think of it in his head, when he couldn’t he gave up the thoughtful expression and walked over to me with the bowl—pausing to glance at Zacky and then handed it to me. “What in the hell is he eating?”

“My bowl of cereal—“ I said innocently. “I was half asleep and grabbed the whiskey instead of the milk, he seems to like it so I figured—why not give it to funnel gut?”

“He’s an idiot, he’ll eat anything—like you said, funnel gut,” Matt took a seat opposite from me, beside Johnny. “I prefer to call him bottomless pit, Johnny likes garbage disposal, Jimmy likes fat boy and Synyster just prefers fatty.”

“And you’re talking about me like I’m not right here, why?” Zacky dropped his spoon in the bowl, letting it cling while he stared at Matt with his mouth gapped, his half chewed trix actually falling out a little. “Dude—disrespectful or what?”

“As I was saying,” Matt said after a minute. “I like yours better, doesn’t exactly demean him but it does put it down to a T, he does eat like he has a funnel in his mouth.”

“Zacky,” I called out to him after he whined and slumped back against the sofa cushion with a pout. “Bud, I don’t think your fat. I like guys with healthy appetites, plenty of girls do and babe, you have got one hell of an appetite.”

“That can defiantly be misconstrued into something really kinky,” Zacky smirked and pointed at me. “But since you’re a minor, I won’t say what I’m thinking.”

“I’m seventeen, I’m not thirteen and please keep it to yourself—I really want to keep down the breakfast Matt made me,” I held my hand up to stop him, Matt grinned and shook his head before he turned on the TV and surfed the channels. The day went by slowly, we didn’t arrive in Cincinnati until six in the evening, I was tired, drained of energy but I promised myself I would see the guys play, I had never seen any of them perform. Yes I’ve heard them, but seen them I hadn’t. I waited in the hallway as they got ready in their dressing room, when they came out I nearly choked on the gum I was chewing. Zacky had his black hair slicked back in the goofiest yet sexiest way, his ocean blue eyes were covered with sunglasses and his attire was just plain geeky in yet again, sexy way. Matt wore a shirt with a black jacket over it and jeans and sunglasses like Zacky’s, his usual. Brian wore one of his signature Syn shirts with a fedora, he hadn’t worn one in forever and his jeans were on the to tight side but they looked rather—nice, at least from my view and of course sunglasses. Jimmy looked like a scary butler even in his regular clothes, black skull shirt with tight black jeans and a sparkly belt and sunglasses to boot. And then there was dear old Johnny, he wore jeans, a white shirt that had Synyster’s logo on it and sunglasses. I came close to telling them they looked like the blues brothers without the suits but kept my mouth shut, fearing I’d get cussed out. “You guys are—something I tell ya.”

“We look good?” Zacky questioned striking a rather awkward pose before he put his guitar around his neck; I loved how he could play left handed.

“Like I said, you guys are something—else,” I grinned and nodded, Synyster bit his lip silently for a second and disappeared back into the room again, leaving us all talking and laughing. When he came back out he held a fedora, a red one and he placed it on my head gently.

“It’ll hide the bandage, have fun,” he kissed my cheek and ran off towards the side stage so he could get ready. One by one the boys took turns kissing my cheek, hugging me tight, thumping my nose or my, oh so loved favorite, pinching my cheeks. I’ll have to thank Jimmy for the rosy cheeks later, saves bunches on blush.

“Jerks,” I chuckled under my breath, but I couldn’t help but slowly fall in love with each one. They were slowly becoming family and dear friends, no matter how insane or stupid they may be. They would fit in quite well. I waited for a good while by myself standing at the railing of the side stage for them to start up, boy when they did it was with a bang and it ended with a bang to. Throughout the show Matt had confessed that Zacky passed out when I passed out (after he explained what happen, which followed with a minute of silence out of respect) and then he told about Synyster’s toothbrush prank he pulled on Jimmy, he had brushed it under the tour bus toilet rim and let Jimmy use it, I locked mine up in a bag ever since. Then he explained about Jimmy’s payback of what he called a shit sandwich and Zacky’s payback on Matt when he had put his hand in cold water and let him piss himself (I had later exclaimed they were a bunch of high school girls on a bus slumber party) and lets see. Oh, he told about Synyster’s incident with a fan girl who viciously attacked him, wanting to—and I quote—eat him alive and the little tale of how Johnny was attacked verbally by a bunch of Christian people, they boycotted his name and the band. When he finished his stories, seeing as it took forever for him to just tell the whole deal about Jimmy’s shit sandwich (honestly if I was a spouse of the boys', I'd never kiss them again), he sang extra hard from what I could tell and then they finished and walked off. Matt was holding his neck, he must have hurt his throat—everyone was sweating and Zacky took the opportunity to hug me. “Ew, get off me.”