Everything I Used to be is Coming Back to Torture Me
Finder's Keepers
Clover stared up into the stars and took a deep breath before slowly releasing it through pursed lips. After leaving the house she had called home for the past eight years, Clover just walked without any real purpose and without making a conscious decision of where to go. However, she wasn’t surprised when she found herself standing in a little pocket made by a rough circle of trees and bushes in the city park. She often went there to calm down after her foster parents pissed her off, which they tended to do quite a bit. Clover had decided that this was as good a place as any to crash for the night and threw her suitcase down on the ground to use as a pillow. The ground in this little hidden area was cushioned by years and years of leaves and made a decent bed. The tree trunks and bushes blocked the wind, creating a nice little cocoon for Clover to stay warm inside.
The hidden spot always offered a quiet, private place for Clover to relax and calm down after an argument with her foster parents. Upon her return, she always got in trouble for running off and refusing to tell them where she was, but it was worth the trouble to keep it secret. It was odd thinking that she’d never see them again. Well, she supposed it was far-fetched to think she’d never see them again, seeing as they lived in the same town and would no doubt run into each other at the grocery store eventually, but she would never step into their house again or have to abide by their strict rules again. She was completely free. It was scary, but at the same time, Clover was elated.
Clover allowed her eyes to slip closed, blocking out the stars above her. Clover and her foster parents were two different types of people. They were two types of people who rarely could get along, no matter what they tried. Clover just believed in different things than they did; and since her beliefs were different, they thought they were bad. They had never accepted her despite her differences, and that was probably the problem all along.
Clover’s heart took a flying leap into her throat, clinging onto her Adam’s apple, when she felt a hand rest gently on her arm. She realized that she must’ve dozed off and it was probably Stephen or Patricia or both coming to force her to go back home with them, never mind that she was 18 and an adult. She jerked her arm away from the hand, opening her eyes with a retort already in mind. Her words caught in her throat at the sight of Synyster Gates kneeling on the ground beside her, blocking out part of the sky. He looked concerned.
“Clover, right?”
“Uhhh…” Clover was completely lost for words and nodded instead.
“May I ask what exactly you’re doing here?”
Rather than answer, Clover dropped and then proceeded to avoid eye contact with him, sitting up and grabbing the handle of her suitcase. She started to move to get to her feet, but Synyster rested his hand on her shoulder, stopping any further movement of hers.
“First off, I’m Brian,” he said, extending his other hand for her to shake. She shook it, still avoiding eye contact and instead staring at the design on his sweatshirt. “Second, I’m now your band mate. Maybe you don’t realize it now, but there’s a certain dynamic that comes with that relationship. You can tell me anything and everything. I won’t judge you or be upset with you.”
Clover inhaled deeply and settled back down on the ground, releasing the handle of her suitcase. Brian sat cross-legged across from her, casually pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
“I ran away from home,” Clover admitted.
“Are you scared that we’ll make you go back home?” Brian asked.
Clover picked a leaf off of the ground and started to tear it apart, concentrating on the leaf rather than maintaining eye contact. Slowly, she nodded, viewing the man across from her as what her foster parents called a “mature adult”, someone who had the life experiences to back up the adult claim. That made him parent-like, with rules and regulations and restrictions, and an absolute fun-killing tattle-tale. She fully expected him to tell her to go home, she was way too young to be out here alone, she wasn’t old enough to take care of herself. It didn’t matter that he was a rockstar.
Brian sighed, knocking the end of his cigarette against the side of his shoe to siphon off the ashes. “When we were your age, we were out all across the country doing gigs that didn’t even pay for the gas it took to drive there. We were young and stupid, but look where we are now. With us, you never have to worry about us using the term ‘too young’, at least not to someone over seventeen. We made it out okay even though we were young, and I think you will too. Can I ask why you left home?”
Clover explained everything that had happened to her, from telling her foster parents the truth to her foster father burning her drum set right before her very eyes. As she recounted the things that had occurred, she decided that leaving had been her best option, perhaps her only option.
“And I just hated them so much at that point…I couldn’t stay,” Clover concluded. “Being in this band is what I want to do. I’m not going to let them get in my way.”
“That’s just about the same attitude we had when we first started,” Brian said with a smile. “So where are you staying tonight then?”
Clover’s gaze glanced over the little clearing they sat in. “You’re sitting in it, actually.”
“Really? Then I’m going to have to invite you to stay in my spare bedroom for the night. It’s much too cold for you to sleep out here,” Brian answered without hesitation.
“You don’t have to do that,” Clover said quickly.
“Yeah, I do,” Brian answered with a firm nod. “Because even if I wasn’t concerned for your personal safety, which I am, I’d still want you as safe as possible because you’re in the band now. Believe it or not, we need you and we need you healthy and preferably alive. Who knows what kind of crack addict would show up in the middle of the night and slit your throat before you even opened your eyes?”
“But I’m not a charity case, I can handle myself,” Clover retorted, not needing this near stranger’s sympathy, band mate or no band mate. She didn’t want his charity or his saintly act of kindness. For once she wanted to be on her own. She’d done it enough tonight; a little more couldn’t hurt.
“I’m not saying you can’t,” Brian went on patiently. “Just think about it for a moment, okay? It’s cold out and you’re in need no matter what your pride tells you. I’m here to help. You can trust me.”
Clover sighed, wanting to be angry but not finding it within herself. She noticed the ring on his finger and decided to stall by bringing attention to it. “You’re married?”
“Yep, to a lovely woman. Don’t change the subject.”
“Well won’t she be mad if you bring home some random eighteen-year-old girl you found in the park?”
“She knows who you are. I told her all about you. She’ll be delighted to meet you. She feels it’s a triumph for women that you got picked over all those guys,” Brian answered.
“Fine,” Clover grumbled, grabbing her suitcase and climbing to her feet. She brushed the leave crumbles off the seat of her jeans as Brian stood as well. “If you’re going to be so damn stubborn about it, I suppose I’ll accept your offer. Only because you nagged me about it!”
“Just tell yourself that,” Brian teased, leading the way out of the clearing. “Do you want me to carry that?” He motioned towards her suitcase.
“Nope,” Clover said. “You got nosy about why I’m out here; why are you out here?”
“I like to take walks,” Brian answered. “That spot back there is actually a place the band and I used to meet up at to hang out and do some underage drinking and smoking. It takes me back to the good old times I guess. Wasn’t expecting to find you in there, however.”
“Loss is hard,” Clover said, having a feeling that the spot made Brian think of the times when their real drummer was still alive. Brian nodded. They had a solemn moment before Brian wrapped his arm companionably around Clover’s shoulders and dragged her against his side, playfully messing up her hair with his other hand.
“You hungry? Michelle made a mean chocolate cake this afternoon,” Brian said.
“Yeah…and, thanks,” Clover answered.
“No problem, kid,” Brian said, smiling in her direction. “No problem at all.”
The hidden spot always offered a quiet, private place for Clover to relax and calm down after an argument with her foster parents. Upon her return, she always got in trouble for running off and refusing to tell them where she was, but it was worth the trouble to keep it secret. It was odd thinking that she’d never see them again. Well, she supposed it was far-fetched to think she’d never see them again, seeing as they lived in the same town and would no doubt run into each other at the grocery store eventually, but she would never step into their house again or have to abide by their strict rules again. She was completely free. It was scary, but at the same time, Clover was elated.
Clover allowed her eyes to slip closed, blocking out the stars above her. Clover and her foster parents were two different types of people. They were two types of people who rarely could get along, no matter what they tried. Clover just believed in different things than they did; and since her beliefs were different, they thought they were bad. They had never accepted her despite her differences, and that was probably the problem all along.
Clover’s heart took a flying leap into her throat, clinging onto her Adam’s apple, when she felt a hand rest gently on her arm. She realized that she must’ve dozed off and it was probably Stephen or Patricia or both coming to force her to go back home with them, never mind that she was 18 and an adult. She jerked her arm away from the hand, opening her eyes with a retort already in mind. Her words caught in her throat at the sight of Synyster Gates kneeling on the ground beside her, blocking out part of the sky. He looked concerned.
“Clover, right?”
“Uhhh…” Clover was completely lost for words and nodded instead.
“May I ask what exactly you’re doing here?”
Rather than answer, Clover dropped and then proceeded to avoid eye contact with him, sitting up and grabbing the handle of her suitcase. She started to move to get to her feet, but Synyster rested his hand on her shoulder, stopping any further movement of hers.
“First off, I’m Brian,” he said, extending his other hand for her to shake. She shook it, still avoiding eye contact and instead staring at the design on his sweatshirt. “Second, I’m now your band mate. Maybe you don’t realize it now, but there’s a certain dynamic that comes with that relationship. You can tell me anything and everything. I won’t judge you or be upset with you.”
Clover inhaled deeply and settled back down on the ground, releasing the handle of her suitcase. Brian sat cross-legged across from her, casually pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
“I ran away from home,” Clover admitted.
“Are you scared that we’ll make you go back home?” Brian asked.
Clover picked a leaf off of the ground and started to tear it apart, concentrating on the leaf rather than maintaining eye contact. Slowly, she nodded, viewing the man across from her as what her foster parents called a “mature adult”, someone who had the life experiences to back up the adult claim. That made him parent-like, with rules and regulations and restrictions, and an absolute fun-killing tattle-tale. She fully expected him to tell her to go home, she was way too young to be out here alone, she wasn’t old enough to take care of herself. It didn’t matter that he was a rockstar.
Brian sighed, knocking the end of his cigarette against the side of his shoe to siphon off the ashes. “When we were your age, we were out all across the country doing gigs that didn’t even pay for the gas it took to drive there. We were young and stupid, but look where we are now. With us, you never have to worry about us using the term ‘too young’, at least not to someone over seventeen. We made it out okay even though we were young, and I think you will too. Can I ask why you left home?”
Clover explained everything that had happened to her, from telling her foster parents the truth to her foster father burning her drum set right before her very eyes. As she recounted the things that had occurred, she decided that leaving had been her best option, perhaps her only option.
“And I just hated them so much at that point…I couldn’t stay,” Clover concluded. “Being in this band is what I want to do. I’m not going to let them get in my way.”
“That’s just about the same attitude we had when we first started,” Brian said with a smile. “So where are you staying tonight then?”
Clover’s gaze glanced over the little clearing they sat in. “You’re sitting in it, actually.”
“Really? Then I’m going to have to invite you to stay in my spare bedroom for the night. It’s much too cold for you to sleep out here,” Brian answered without hesitation.
“You don’t have to do that,” Clover said quickly.
“Yeah, I do,” Brian answered with a firm nod. “Because even if I wasn’t concerned for your personal safety, which I am, I’d still want you as safe as possible because you’re in the band now. Believe it or not, we need you and we need you healthy and preferably alive. Who knows what kind of crack addict would show up in the middle of the night and slit your throat before you even opened your eyes?”
“But I’m not a charity case, I can handle myself,” Clover retorted, not needing this near stranger’s sympathy, band mate or no band mate. She didn’t want his charity or his saintly act of kindness. For once she wanted to be on her own. She’d done it enough tonight; a little more couldn’t hurt.
“I’m not saying you can’t,” Brian went on patiently. “Just think about it for a moment, okay? It’s cold out and you’re in need no matter what your pride tells you. I’m here to help. You can trust me.”
Clover sighed, wanting to be angry but not finding it within herself. She noticed the ring on his finger and decided to stall by bringing attention to it. “You’re married?”
“Yep, to a lovely woman. Don’t change the subject.”
“Well won’t she be mad if you bring home some random eighteen-year-old girl you found in the park?”
“She knows who you are. I told her all about you. She’ll be delighted to meet you. She feels it’s a triumph for women that you got picked over all those guys,” Brian answered.
“Fine,” Clover grumbled, grabbing her suitcase and climbing to her feet. She brushed the leave crumbles off the seat of her jeans as Brian stood as well. “If you’re going to be so damn stubborn about it, I suppose I’ll accept your offer. Only because you nagged me about it!”
“Just tell yourself that,” Brian teased, leading the way out of the clearing. “Do you want me to carry that?” He motioned towards her suitcase.
“Nope,” Clover said. “You got nosy about why I’m out here; why are you out here?”
“I like to take walks,” Brian answered. “That spot back there is actually a place the band and I used to meet up at to hang out and do some underage drinking and smoking. It takes me back to the good old times I guess. Wasn’t expecting to find you in there, however.”
“Loss is hard,” Clover said, having a feeling that the spot made Brian think of the times when their real drummer was still alive. Brian nodded. They had a solemn moment before Brian wrapped his arm companionably around Clover’s shoulders and dragged her against his side, playfully messing up her hair with his other hand.
“You hungry? Michelle made a mean chocolate cake this afternoon,” Brian said.
“Yeah…and, thanks,” Clover answered.
“No problem, kid,” Brian said, smiling in her direction. “No problem at all.”
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