Dead and Gone
Dead and Gone
“What do you think?”
I looked at Holly, my girlfriend, as she twirled around in place. She wore a pair of grey faded jeans, a black Affliction shirt, and flip flops. Today was the day of her audition for the Affliction clothing line. They wanted something simple for the auditions so this is what Holly viewed as simple. I saw it as stunning on her but anything she wore, I found stunning.
After years of behind the camera, taking pictures of models, she was going to be the one to be take center stage. Yes, Holly James was a professional photographer. That’s actually how we met. It was four years ago and Avenged Sevenfold was just starting out. We were getting our picture done for Warped Tour and Holly was our photographer. As soon as I saw her walk in with that crazy hairstyle of hers, I was hooked. I even remember what she wore that day: a black Motley Crue tank-top, a plaid skirt that ended in the middle of her thigh, knee-high hooker boots, and a dark blue denim jacket. Her hair was dyed half black and half blonde and I remember trying to figure out which color was her real hair color.
Turns out, Holly was a brunette.
But even when Zacky joked and said she looked like a whore, I was hooked. She laughed at Zacky’s comment and said that she felt like being “slut-ish” that day. From that moment, she instantly became one of our friends.
“Hey, Brian, what does an agnostic dyslexic insomniac do,” Holly asked.
I looked at her as she reviewed the pictures she took for our band. Her glasses rested on the bridge of her nose but that didn’t distract from her green eyes. Her crazy hair was in held up on the back of her head by a hair clip but there were some strands that had escaped and were framing her face so perfectly. She was wearing a white shirt that she had artistically ripped in the back, dark blue jeans, and a pair of black converse. I don’t know how Holly had the ability to pull off simple looks and make them look so irresistible.
“Not sure, what does someone like that do,” I said after pulling myself away from looking at her body.
“Lay awake at night and wonder if there is a dog,” she answered.
She said that so seriously and with a straight face. I was trying to keep from laughing because that was actually pretty good.
“Wow, Holly, where did you think of that?”
She just shrugged as she turned her chair to look at me. “That’s a good question.”
That was the first ever conversation I had with Holly. I remember it all. Of course there was more than that but that’s how it all started: with that weird question of hers. Now, four years later, she was standing in my room, trying to look good even though I told her she looked amazing.
“You look beautiful,” I answered truthfully.
Holly’s smile just lit up my whole world and I felt good.
“Are you just saying that to get me to get into bed with you?”
I laughed a bit because we both knew that the answer to that question was yes. Holly just smiled as she shook her head, inspecting her outfit. She was incredibly self conscious about this whole interview. Ever since I first met her, Holly always wanted to try her hand at modeling but no one gave her the chance. Now she had it and was extremely nervous about the whole thing.
All I could do was tell her that no matter what, I thought she was beautiful. The best part was she knew that she was always beautiful in my eyes.
“You’ll be fine,” I assured her as I pulled up to the sidewalk of the studio.
Holly sat in the passenger’s seat and looked at me. I could see that she was nervous and scared. I don’t know why she was feeling like that but I may be bias.
“What if I fail miserably?”
“You won’t,” I said, leaning across the seat to kiss her forehead, “You’ll be fantastic.”
She smiled and placed her hand on the side of my face. I loved it when she did that. The touch of her soft skin against my face just was so calming. Whenever I came home and I had gotten into a bar fight, that’s all Holly had to do to get me to calm down.
Luckily for me, she never was controlling. She allowed me to my thing and I never cheated on her. I could go to a bar, have girls throw themselves at me, and not be tempted by them because I knew I had Holly. She was more than enough and she was more than what I deserved. I was completely loyal to Holly because she was completely loyal to me. She worked as a photographer and there would be guys hitting on her. I secretly stopped by to surprise her and one idiot was hitting on her. I was about to punch the guy when I heard Holly say, “I have a boyfriend and you keep bothering me, I will give him a call and ask him to beat your ass.”
Again, Holly was incredibly loyal to me and I was incredibly loyal to her.
“You know I love you, right,” I asked as she unclipped the hair clip that kept her hair up.
“Yes and I love you too,” Holly replied.
I tucked a blonde lock behind her ear. I never understood why she got her hair like that but for some reason, it just suited Holly. She was a little crazy and having a crazy hairstyle just seemed to be reasonable or at least that’s what she said.
She got out of the car and smiled at me. I rolled down the window and yelled, “Good luck and you’ll be amazing.”
“You’re just being bias, Brian,” she yelled back as she turned to enter the building.
I watched as she walked in the building. After four years of dating, Holly James was always the same. I loved everything about her because in my eyes, she could do no wrong. She was that incredibly spunky yet beautiful girl who always just made me feel good.
That was six months ago.
Now, I watched the girl my Holly became dress up for another photo shoot. That crazy hair was gone and in its place were platinum blonde locks. The natural beauty that she once had was gone and her face was painted on. Her green eyes that were once filled with mischief and emotion were now empty and hollow. Hollywood took the girl I loved and made her into something she’s not.
Since she booked that audition, Holly completely changed. She became obsessed with her looks and appearance. My Holly would never care this much when she was dressing up before. My Holly would never spend countless hours in front of the mirror, admiring her own reflection. My Holly would never treat people like they were below her. My Holly never acted like she was the center of the universe and that everyone should praise her.
“Ugh, Brian could you please not stand there? You’re blocking my light.”
She was reading a fashion magazine as countless make-up artists painted a face upon her own. I just stood there, unable to tell her that I didn’t like this change. I couldn’t tell her because she was happy with everything and I never wanted Holly unhappy.
I loved her too much to do that.
“Sorry, Holly.”
“You look fabulous, Holly,” one of the make-up artists said as he finished applying her make-up, “Absolutely drop-dead stunning.”
I didn’t agree. I didn’t see the beauty that these supposed fashion experts see. She looked like one of those Hollywood Whores that the media loved to shower with attention. She looked like she was fake.
She looked completely fake. This wasn’t the girl I’d fallen in love with. This was the girl that the media and Hollywood fell in love with.
Somebody took my angel now she’s gone for sure.
“What do you think, Brian,” one of the other “artists” asked.
“She looks fake,” I said, bluntly.
Holly looked at me and glared. The make-up artists just left, leaving us to talk about this alone. They knew that we had dramas but they always sided with Holly because she was the beauty and I was just the boyfriend. They didn’t agree with our relationship because they saw me as a dirty rock star and Holly was a beautiful model who could easily get something a hundred times better. I hated them.
“What’s your problem, Brian,” she asked, getting up.
This wasn’t my Holly. My Holly would never act like this.
“I don’t see this beauty that everyone keeps saying you are,” I admitted, “I want my Holly back.”
“I’m right here,” she yelled, throwing her arms in the air, “I haven’t gone anywhere!”
“Yes you have! You’re not the same. You completely checked out. I don’t even know you anymore. It feels like I’m in a relationship with a complete stranger,” I yelled back.
Holly looked at me, completely stunned. Her green eyes were blazing with fury as her hand twitched. I knew I made her mad but this was seriously killing me. I don’t even know who this girl is. She definitely wasn’t the girl I fell in love with four years ago.
My face stung as she slapped me. I stared at the ground for a few seconds as I listened to her huffed. She was offended by my statement.
“You know what, Brian, fuck off,” she screamed.
She stormed off, leaving me to stand there. Alone. My Holly would never do that. My Holly would never become something she was not. She would never become something she hated. My angel Holly has become a devil Holly. My Holly was dead and gone and she was never coming back.
Hollywood took my angel now she’s gone for sure.
I looked at Holly, my girlfriend, as she twirled around in place. She wore a pair of grey faded jeans, a black Affliction shirt, and flip flops. Today was the day of her audition for the Affliction clothing line. They wanted something simple for the auditions so this is what Holly viewed as simple. I saw it as stunning on her but anything she wore, I found stunning.
After years of behind the camera, taking pictures of models, she was going to be the one to be take center stage. Yes, Holly James was a professional photographer. That’s actually how we met. It was four years ago and Avenged Sevenfold was just starting out. We were getting our picture done for Warped Tour and Holly was our photographer. As soon as I saw her walk in with that crazy hairstyle of hers, I was hooked. I even remember what she wore that day: a black Motley Crue tank-top, a plaid skirt that ended in the middle of her thigh, knee-high hooker boots, and a dark blue denim jacket. Her hair was dyed half black and half blonde and I remember trying to figure out which color was her real hair color.
Turns out, Holly was a brunette.
But even when Zacky joked and said she looked like a whore, I was hooked. She laughed at Zacky’s comment and said that she felt like being “slut-ish” that day. From that moment, she instantly became one of our friends.
“Hey, Brian, what does an agnostic dyslexic insomniac do,” Holly asked.
I looked at her as she reviewed the pictures she took for our band. Her glasses rested on the bridge of her nose but that didn’t distract from her green eyes. Her crazy hair was in held up on the back of her head by a hair clip but there were some strands that had escaped and were framing her face so perfectly. She was wearing a white shirt that she had artistically ripped in the back, dark blue jeans, and a pair of black converse. I don’t know how Holly had the ability to pull off simple looks and make them look so irresistible.
“Not sure, what does someone like that do,” I said after pulling myself away from looking at her body.
“Lay awake at night and wonder if there is a dog,” she answered.
She said that so seriously and with a straight face. I was trying to keep from laughing because that was actually pretty good.
“Wow, Holly, where did you think of that?”
She just shrugged as she turned her chair to look at me. “That’s a good question.”
That was the first ever conversation I had with Holly. I remember it all. Of course there was more than that but that’s how it all started: with that weird question of hers. Now, four years later, she was standing in my room, trying to look good even though I told her she looked amazing.
“You look beautiful,” I answered truthfully.
Holly’s smile just lit up my whole world and I felt good.
“Are you just saying that to get me to get into bed with you?”
I laughed a bit because we both knew that the answer to that question was yes. Holly just smiled as she shook her head, inspecting her outfit. She was incredibly self conscious about this whole interview. Ever since I first met her, Holly always wanted to try her hand at modeling but no one gave her the chance. Now she had it and was extremely nervous about the whole thing.
All I could do was tell her that no matter what, I thought she was beautiful. The best part was she knew that she was always beautiful in my eyes.
“You’ll be fine,” I assured her as I pulled up to the sidewalk of the studio.
Holly sat in the passenger’s seat and looked at me. I could see that she was nervous and scared. I don’t know why she was feeling like that but I may be bias.
“What if I fail miserably?”
“You won’t,” I said, leaning across the seat to kiss her forehead, “You’ll be fantastic.”
She smiled and placed her hand on the side of my face. I loved it when she did that. The touch of her soft skin against my face just was so calming. Whenever I came home and I had gotten into a bar fight, that’s all Holly had to do to get me to calm down.
Luckily for me, she never was controlling. She allowed me to my thing and I never cheated on her. I could go to a bar, have girls throw themselves at me, and not be tempted by them because I knew I had Holly. She was more than enough and she was more than what I deserved. I was completely loyal to Holly because she was completely loyal to me. She worked as a photographer and there would be guys hitting on her. I secretly stopped by to surprise her and one idiot was hitting on her. I was about to punch the guy when I heard Holly say, “I have a boyfriend and you keep bothering me, I will give him a call and ask him to beat your ass.”
Again, Holly was incredibly loyal to me and I was incredibly loyal to her.
“You know I love you, right,” I asked as she unclipped the hair clip that kept her hair up.
“Yes and I love you too,” Holly replied.
I tucked a blonde lock behind her ear. I never understood why she got her hair like that but for some reason, it just suited Holly. She was a little crazy and having a crazy hairstyle just seemed to be reasonable or at least that’s what she said.
She got out of the car and smiled at me. I rolled down the window and yelled, “Good luck and you’ll be amazing.”
“You’re just being bias, Brian,” she yelled back as she turned to enter the building.
I watched as she walked in the building. After four years of dating, Holly James was always the same. I loved everything about her because in my eyes, she could do no wrong. She was that incredibly spunky yet beautiful girl who always just made me feel good.
That was six months ago.
Now, I watched the girl my Holly became dress up for another photo shoot. That crazy hair was gone and in its place were platinum blonde locks. The natural beauty that she once had was gone and her face was painted on. Her green eyes that were once filled with mischief and emotion were now empty and hollow. Hollywood took the girl I loved and made her into something she’s not.
Since she booked that audition, Holly completely changed. She became obsessed with her looks and appearance. My Holly would never care this much when she was dressing up before. My Holly would never spend countless hours in front of the mirror, admiring her own reflection. My Holly would never treat people like they were below her. My Holly never acted like she was the center of the universe and that everyone should praise her.
“Ugh, Brian could you please not stand there? You’re blocking my light.”
She was reading a fashion magazine as countless make-up artists painted a face upon her own. I just stood there, unable to tell her that I didn’t like this change. I couldn’t tell her because she was happy with everything and I never wanted Holly unhappy.
I loved her too much to do that.
“Sorry, Holly.”
“You look fabulous, Holly,” one of the make-up artists said as he finished applying her make-up, “Absolutely drop-dead stunning.”
I didn’t agree. I didn’t see the beauty that these supposed fashion experts see. She looked like one of those Hollywood Whores that the media loved to shower with attention. She looked like she was fake.
She looked completely fake. This wasn’t the girl I’d fallen in love with. This was the girl that the media and Hollywood fell in love with.
Somebody took my angel now she’s gone for sure.
“What do you think, Brian,” one of the other “artists” asked.
“She looks fake,” I said, bluntly.
Holly looked at me and glared. The make-up artists just left, leaving us to talk about this alone. They knew that we had dramas but they always sided with Holly because she was the beauty and I was just the boyfriend. They didn’t agree with our relationship because they saw me as a dirty rock star and Holly was a beautiful model who could easily get something a hundred times better. I hated them.
“What’s your problem, Brian,” she asked, getting up.
This wasn’t my Holly. My Holly would never act like this.
“I don’t see this beauty that everyone keeps saying you are,” I admitted, “I want my Holly back.”
“I’m right here,” she yelled, throwing her arms in the air, “I haven’t gone anywhere!”
“Yes you have! You’re not the same. You completely checked out. I don’t even know you anymore. It feels like I’m in a relationship with a complete stranger,” I yelled back.
Holly looked at me, completely stunned. Her green eyes were blazing with fury as her hand twitched. I knew I made her mad but this was seriously killing me. I don’t even know who this girl is. She definitely wasn’t the girl I fell in love with four years ago.
My face stung as she slapped me. I stared at the ground for a few seconds as I listened to her huffed. She was offended by my statement.
“You know what, Brian, fuck off,” she screamed.
She stormed off, leaving me to stand there. Alone. My Holly would never do that. My Holly would never become something she was not. She would never become something she hated. My angel Holly has become a devil Holly. My Holly was dead and gone and she was never coming back.
Hollywood took my angel now she’s gone for sure.