Red and Grey Is Not the New Black

Thinking while driving is never a good idea, and I knew this very well, for this afternoon on my way home, I ran a stop sign, almost hit a guy on a bike, and came rather close to rear ending an old woman in a beat up Volkswagen. Needless to say, I’ve decided to quit thinking while I’m driving. It wasn’t my fault though, Brian always got me thinking; thinking of how we ended up so far down this road of heart ache and longing. I knew it was my fault; somehow it always ends up being my fault. This time however, I knew exactly what I did. I dated someone who wasn’t Brian because I underestimated him as a man, and by doing that, I ruined the best chance I’ve ever had at getting him. And even now I knew I was slowly destroying any chances I’d have at being with him, because I was with Vince.

Vince. No way to really describe how that relationship started. Everyone thought it would be a good idea after the first time we did a duet, and the chemistry we had was just too much to deny. I suppose I was in denial, thinking I’d probably never see Brian again, or be around him enough to start a relationship. Though somewhere inside of me knew it was inevitable, I guess I never thought that it would happen this soon, I suppose I thought that I’d be married with a kid on the way or some kind of responsible adult like thing that everyone else my age was doing. Sometimes, if I think too much, I find that I really miss Brian, and wish I had let a relationship form, and then if I don’t think enough, I realize that I should have been thinking more, because I’ll have likely screwed something up. I guess I’m fucked either way.

“Blaise,” Vince catches my attention by putting his hand in front of my face.

Looking up, I noticed the worry in his eyes. How long have I been completely oblivious to his attempts at getting my attention?

“Are you alright? We don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want to,” he tells me, looking slightly disappointed.

I put on my best smile, knowing that I probably still look pretty distracted and tell him, “no I’m fine. It’s about time I go see my brother, and I’m the one who told everyone else.”

He smiles in relief, though I can still see the worry in his eyes as he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, “alright, I’m going to head over there then,” he tells me.

I smile up at him and nod my head in understanding, thankful for such a great boyfriend, who knows when I need some space and doesn’t throw a fit about it. He gives me one last smile before walking out of the living room and leaving the house; I stay on the couch long after he leaves, letting my mind run away with my imagination, thoughts of what life would be like if I had gone out with Brian. Shaking my head, I clear the thoughts, “no, then Harmonic Asylum wouldn’t be a band,” I remind myself.

Sighing, I get off the couch and look down at my outfit, a pair of black sweat pants paired with one of Vince’s black t-shirts looks back at me. I shrug, not motivated enough to change for my brother and our friends, and walk towards the door, picking my keys up off of the end table, opening the door and closing it, making sure to lock it behind me before getting into my car. I take my time driving to Johnny’s, not in any particular rush as I wait patiently in traffic, forcing my mind to stay put, not wanting to cause an accident should it wander too far.
Before I even make the conscious decision, I’m pulling into my brother’s driveway, taking note of all the cars already here, and sighing, not exactly looking forward to seeing more than a few people. Sucking in a large breath, I walk up the walkway and open the front door, finding it pointless to knock when I’m assaulted with the sound of people talking and laughing the second I step in the doorway. Closing the door behind me, I try to stay as quiet as possible as I make my way through the entry hall and over to the living room, everything the same as it was when I had lived there, the couches surrounding the TV, only this time, they’re full of people.

“Blaise, it’s about time,” Johnny shouts, spotting me from his seat in his recliner by my old bookcase.

I put on my best smile and walk over to him, wrapping my arms around him as he stands from the chair, “I missed you Johnny,” I tell him.

“What about me?”

I turn around to see Jimmy standing a few feet away with a pout on his face. With a grin, I let go of my brother and turn to face Jimmy, my arms wide open, “come on Jimbo. I missed you the most,” I tell him, giggling as he runs over, trapping me in a suffocating bear hug.

When he lets me go, I find that the rest of Avenged is standing around, waiting for a hug, along with all of their girlfriends. Instead of hugging each of them individually, I hold my arms out and wiggle my fingers, laughing with them as we share a large group hug. When I pull away from them, I notice Vince is missing from the group of my band mates on the couch.

“Where’s Vince,” I ask, looking around the room.

I feel tension building as I try to make eye contact with someone in the room, everyone suddenly finding the carpet and walls much more interesting than my question, except for Brian. I raise my right eyebrow at him, “well?”

“Him and Michelle are out back talking,” he tells me, pointing to the side doors of the living room; the ones leading to the darkened pool lounge.

“That’s nice,” I mutter, turning around and walking towards the kitchen, my mind immediately leaping off a cliff with my imagination. I shake my head; trying to get the images of Vince anywhere near Michelle out of it doesn’t seem to be working however, as an image of the two of them making out pops into it.

“Fuck me,” I growl, yanking the fridge door open, only to find that it’s missing a few key elements such as liquor, mixers and chasers, “fuck me sideways.”

“Gladly.”

Startled to hear another voice, I spin around, glaring at Brian who’s leaning on the breakfast bar, a smug grin on his face. I roll my eyes before turning around again, slamming the fridge door shut and yanking the freezer door open, my hopes crashing down around me as I find that it too, is missing everything good. Without another thought, I turn around again, shooting Brian another glare before stalking back into the living room, where everyone goes silent; the tension rising another degree as I stare all of my friends down, my heated glares doing exactly what I want them to as my friends look away from me. With another roll of my eyes, I boldly walk over to the French doors, throwing my shoulders back and lifting my head higher, I throw them open, my heart wrenching at what I find.

“Vince,” I call out to him softly, my voice much weaker than I had planned on it being.

When he looks up at me, the shock and worry evident in his eyes make me feel even worse, but I shake my head, walking towards him with purposeful steps. I stop a few feet from the chairs, looking down at him and Michelle, both of them careful to not touch each other as I cross my arms, “I’m not mad,” I start, biting my tongue hard to keep from crying before continuing, “but I am hurt. I don’t want an apology right now; I just want you to get your stuff out of the apartment in the morning when I go to work.”

Vince blinks his eyes a few times before nodding his head in understanding. I smile painfully down at him before I turn around, not surprised to see Will, Leana and Gena glaring over at Michelle from their spots around the door as I walk towards them. Val is the only one standing inside the room, looking uncomfortable as I walk by her, to sit on the couch next to Ryder, completely oblivious to the man on his other side.

“Sparky in the kitchen now,” Brian demands, not saying another word as he walks out of the living room and back the way he came from.

I groan, but stand up anyways, shooting Will one of my ‘save me in ten minutes’ looks before walking back into the kitchen and leaning on my elbows against the breakfast bar, my head hung a few inches above it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My head immediately snaps up at the condescending tone he uses, my temper flaring as I glare at him, “I think the better question would be, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s fucking wrong with me. How can you blow up on me for asking you a simple question, and yet when your boyfriend cheats on you, you just blow it off like it’s no big deal,” he shouts at me.

Tears spring to my eyes as the accusing tone rips through my head, my anger and hurt waging war over dominance, “Brian have you ever thought that I got angry at you because I fucking loved you? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I’ve been too damn stupid to see that for myself? That until just morning, I thought that what Vince and I had was real; that it was love! No! You never stopped to think, that maybe after I saw you today, I realized just how insanely jealous I am when Michelle’s around you, or how much I missed being able to call you Syn or even just how much I missed hearing you call me Sparky…” I trail off, my tears streaking down my hot face, my hands curled into fists at my sides, as my body shakes, whether in anger or from the suppressed sobs, I can’t even tell.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I shake my head, cutting him off with an angry glare, “don’t even fucking try to apologize Syn, because I don’t think I can handle it,” I choke out, my sobs finally exploding from within, forcing my elbows to meet with the bar again, as my head falls forward, resting itself against my arms; my body shakes with uncontrollable, silent sobs, my eyes like faucets as the tears begin to drip onto the counter as my heart beats painfully in my chest.

I feel a dainty hand wrap around my wrist, pulling me off the table and into a pair of thin arms, my head resting against a rather soft chest; knowing in my head that it’s not Brian, I let myself be led from the kitchen and back into the living room. Sneaking a glance, I notice that it’s been cleared of people, so I don’t have to hide in the chest of my best friend. I pull away from her as we sit on the couch, my eyes sore as the last of my tears slowly slide down my reddened cheeks.

“Sparky,” Brian calls out, effectively getting me to turn on the couch to see him standing in the doorway, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head slightly lowered, his eyes trained only on me.

I shake my head, trying to tell him not to say anything, but he doesn’t listen as he opens his mouth, the words I had asked him not to say, spilling out, “I’m sorry.”

My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out for him, my mind automatically steeling itself against the will to go to him, while my heart beats wildly, almost painfully, in my chest, threatening to explode at any second as a look of disappointment crosses his features. Something breaks then, inside of me, something completely shatters as he begins to turn away, the look of complete rejection on his face launches my heart into my throat and the will power to withstand any emotions from dealing with Brian forces it’s way past the wall in my head, and I can’t stop myself as I get up from the couch, crossing the living room in a matter of seconds, just so I can grab a hold of his wrist and pull him back into the room.

A look of shock crosses his face and his eyes are guarded as he looks down at me with a questioning stare. I find myself completely lost in his chocolate eyes, my brain fading into a thick haze as I stare up at him, my mind taking complete control of my body as I simply reach up and rest my hand on his cheek before leaning up and pressing my dry, cracked lips against his warm, soft ones. A feeling of warmth rushes through my body as he immediately responds to the kiss, his hands finding my hips with a bruising force as he pulls me against him.

“About time,” someone mutters from behind us.

I pay no attention to them as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself up so that I have better access to his lips, one of my hands roaming up to tangle itself in his hair, while the other tightly clings to his neck. My heart beats rapidly as he begins to pull away, a smile on his lips as our eyes meet again, sending jolts of electricity through my body.

“I fucking love you Sparky,” he whispers, leaning forward to press his lips to mine in a soft,
gentle, loving kiss.

Say it. Blaise just fucking say the words you stupid bitch. If you fuck this up for yourself, I’m going to throw you off a cliff.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words seem to be stuck in my throat as I close my mouth again, biting my lip. I smile as I come up with an idea, pulling him down for a hug, I press my lips against his ear, and in the softest, quietest voice I can muster, I whisper, “I love you Syn.”