Red and Grey Is Not the New Black

“I fucking hate touring,” I mutter, climbing off the bus and walking towards the apartment I shared with Will.

“You don’t hate touring,” she states, rolling her eyes as we drag our bags out from the storage under the bus.

“Yes I do, I hate all of it,” I reply, dragging my bag up the sidewalk.

“I don’t see why,” she mumbles, “because you and Brian had sex a million times, and you and Vince are doing awesome.”

“That’s just it. Things are going to good. This tour was ominous. Something’s going to go wrong, I just know it,” I tell her, shaking my head as I drag my bag into the elevator.

Will groans and shakes her head; both of us completely unaware of what the future held.



“Will! I need to go see Brian or he’s going to think I forgot about him,” I call out to her.

“Be back soon, you promised that we’d meet the guys here to talk about what we’re going to put on this new record,” she reminds me.

“Oh yeah, alright, I won’t be gone long then,” I reply, walking out the door.

I sigh as I get into my car, my heart thumping excitedly at seeing Brian. It’s been almost a year that we’ve been back together, and the past few weeks have been hectic for us, both of us working on hard with our bands, hardly having time with each other. I was thankful that Brian had put his address in my GPS, or else I’d be lost, driving through Huntington Beach without a clue. No matter how long I’ve lived here, I can get to very few places without getting lost; it was a habit of mine, getting lost.

Pulling up to Brian’s, I see an unfamiliar car parked in his driveway, but I shrug it off, thinking that maybe his parents were over as I walk up the stairs to the front door. I hesitate, wondering if I should knock, and then brushing that thought away, pulling my key out of my purse, I unlock the door and walk in, sounds of moaning send a shockwave through my system. No, this can’t be happening. We’re doing so good.

“Bri?”

I try to clear my throat to try and clear the tightness as tears build up in my eyes and the noises get louder. I being to walk through the rooms, stopping in front of his bedroom door, the only one that’s cracked open. I feel my large breakfast threatening to climb up my throat as I peek through the crack; Brian and Michelle, completely naked, in his bed.

“Bri,” I call out, my voice cracking as I push open the door, wincing as it creaks.

They both look up at me, shock and shame covering Brian’s face, as a look of regret crosses Michelle’s, her face flaring up as she slides off of him, the blankets falling to reveal more than I needed to see. I shake my head, slamming the door shut before sprinting out of the house and to my car. As soon as I start the car, I drive to the only place I knew how to get to without even thinking; Jimmy’s.

I could feel something was seriously wrong; deadly wrong. The ambulance in the driveway didn’t have its lights on, and paramedics weren’t rushing, they were standing around, looking solemn. In a hurry, I park my car half on the curb and barely register turning it off before opening the door and rushing up the grass. The men call out to me, but I ignore them as I shove open the door, “Leana! Jimmy!”

I skid to a halt in the kitchen, seeing Leana on her knees on the floor, sobbing over someone; someone familiar; Jimmy. I feel my heart wrenching as I drop to my knees next to her, time halting as I look down at his pale, lifeless face, “Le?”

“He’s gone,” she cries, another gut wrenching sob spilling from her lips as tears cascade down her face.

Thoughts and memories jumble together in my head as I stumble to my knees, Leana calling my name as I crash into the door frame, not fazed as I keep moving until I’m out on the front lawn, falling to my knees and vomiting my breakfast onto the lush green grass, tears pouring down my face as my body shakes with violent sobs.

I feel someone pulling my hair back, tears wetting my shirt as that person wraps their arms around me and rests their head on my back. I wipe my mouth and sit back on my knees, my body shaking, whether from the coldness inside my body, or silent sobs, I can’t tell as my eyes meet a pair of green ones.

“Zacky,” I squeak out, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tightly as we cry.

“Get off of her!”

We both look up, shocked into silence to see Brian storming over to us, his hands balled into fists and his eyes hard and cold, narrowed on Zacky. I shake my head and get to my feet, pulling Zacky with me as I glare at Brian, “not here Brian. You don’t want to do this,” I tell him, shaking my head as unwanted tears spill from my eyes.

“Get lost Zacky,” Brian growls, taking another step forward.

I shake my head in disbelief, turning to Zacky and leaning forward to hug him, “go see Matt,” I tell him, my voice cracking.

Zacky nods once before turning around and walking away, leaving me alone out front with Brian and the paramedics and arriving cops. Brian moves forward to hug me, but I step back, “don’t touch me. We’re done. I’m done with you. I’m done, I’m done, I’m done,” I snap at him, more tears pouring from my eyes.

“Blaise!”

At the sound of my brother’s broken voice, I turn to see him standing next to his car, his face a mix of pain and confusion. Brian reaches out to me again, wrapping his hand around my wrist; out of anger, I spin around slapping him across the face and shoving him away from me before running to my brother, collapsing in his arms and letting the pain consume us both as we drop to the ground, a mess of tears and sobs.



The days following Jimmy’s death have been hard. Trying to wrap my head around the fact that he was gone, and not coming back, had me on edge, and the heartbreaking sting of Brian not being with me, only added to the debilitating pain I felt as I lie in my bed, staring thoughtlessly at the ceiling.

My door creaks open, but I find I don’t have the energy, or even the want to turn my head and find out who would want to bother with me. I didn’t have to wait long for Leana’s face to come into my view, her eyes bloodshot and puffy.

“Le,” I start, opening my mouth and closing it again, looking away from her face and looking back at the ceiling.

Without a word, Leana sits on my bed, kicks her shoes off, which is more than I had done when I had crawled into this space, and lays back, her hands behind her head, her elbow just brushing mine.

“I miss him,” she whispers.

“I miss him too Le,” I whisper back, closing my eyes.

“Let’s do something,” she states, suddenly sitting up.

“Le, I stink, and I haven’t moved in almost two weeks except to use the bathroom,” I tell her, not opening my eyes.

“Get up and take a shower, we’re going to do something for Jimmy,” she orders, grabbing my arm and pulling.

I groan, my muscles creaking at the movement before I actually sit up, sending Leana flying to my floor, both of us staring at each other before laughing. I finally sigh and look down at Leana, sitting on my floor with a grin on her face, “I’m going to go shower and then we’ll go do something for Jimbo,” I promise her.

She nods her head and lies back on my floor, staring at the ceiling. I giggle and stand up, walking over to my closet to pull out a plain black t-shirt and some loose, black jeans. I turn around and walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind me and running the shower. I didn’t take long, or tried not to, and when I got out, I threw my wet hair into a loose bun and pulled my clothes on, not bothering with makeup.

“Come on Blaise, I’m getting impatient,” Leana calls through the door.

I chuckle as I open the door, seeing Leana standing on the other side of it, her hand poised to knock with a sheepish grin on her face. Laughing, we both head out of my bedroom, the one Johnny had set aside for me at the house, and down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen to let someone know we were leaving. Leana pokes me in the side as we get to the door, making me giggle, but I stop short when I see who’s in the kitchen with Johnny.

“Johnny, I’m stealing Blaise for a few hours,” Leana tells him, her tone clipped as she quickly turns to walk away.

I turn to follow her, stopping only when I feel a hand on my wrist, “Brian let go,” I tell him, my voice dangerously low.

“Blaise, just talk to me,” he pleads, trying to pull me into his chest.

I wrench my hand from his grip and turn around, my jaw clenched and my hand raised to hit him, but someone else’s beats me to it as I see another feminine hand, clenched in a fist, shoot out from behind me and catching him in the jaw.

“Don’t fucking speak to her,” Leana growls, her other hand on my shoulder.

“You just decked Syn for me,” I state in a daze, a grin sliding onto my lips.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” she mutters, pulling me out of the house with her.

I follow her down to her car, the grin still on my face as we get in and she starts to drive. I turn my grinning self on her, “Leana you just punched Synyster Gates in the face, for me.”
Leana shrugs, but starts to chuckle, sending me into a fit of laughter, and by the time we had reached a red light, we were both laughing loudly, our eyes wet with tears and our faces bright with smiles. Finally we calm down enough to relax into our seats, the hum of traffic the only sound in the car as we drive through town.

“Where are we going?” I ask her, looking around.

“Here,” she states.

I look up to see a tattoo shop, and I felt my heart start to race. Don’t get me wrong, I have tattoos but I’ve never gotten a tattoo for someone else. I’ve only ever gotten them for myself as reminders of the past. I sigh and get out of the car, following Leana into the shop.

“Hey Trent,” I greet the muscled, tattooed man who has been the only one to ever lay a needle to my skin.

“Hey Sparky, thought you said you were done?” He asks me, looking up from his work.

“I thought I was too, but there’s been a change in plans,” I state, looking cautiously over at Leana who was talking to another one of the artist’s, Darrell.

“Is everything alright with you Spark?” He asks me, this time putting his pen down and spinning his chair around.

I shrug, walking closer to his desk and sitting in one of the chairs next to it, kicking my feet up on his lap. He chuckles and leans back, kicking his own feet up on the small table that they use for holding their books and lunches.

“Really though, you look like hell babe. You never look this bad coming into get a tattoo,” he states, tilting his head to the side.

“Brian cheated,” I blurt out.

I slap my hand over my mouth and close my eyes to avoid looking at him. I can feel him tense underneath my legs, and immediately the thought pops into my head that he wasn’t going to take this news and do nothing with it.

“He did what?” He asks; his words are slow and calculated.

“Nothing; I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter through my hand, slowly opening my eyes to see him glaring hard at the table.

“Sparky, I told you the last time you came in here, to get that tattoo for Dan, that this kid was no good; bad news. You didn’t listen to me, and now he’s cheated on you,” he states, finally turning his glare on me.

I shrink back from his gaze, pulling my feet off his lap and onto my chair so I can hug my knees. His gaze softens, and I don’t know if it’s because I look vulnerable, or because he feels bad, but either way, I’ve never known him to hug anyone the way he’s hugging me right now.

“Trent, I love you and all bro, but you’re squishing me,” I mutter, giggling as he quickly pulls away, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry. I felt bad, for saying that,” he tells me, shrugging.

“Blaise, Val’s here,” Leana tells me, catching my attention.

I give her a half-smile, finding it hard to look at the woman whose twin I had caught in bed with my boyfriend. Val frowns and walks over to me, sitting on the table where Trent’s feet had previously occupied a spot.

“Listen Blaise, I know that I look like her, but I’m nothing like her, and I don’t like what she did. I’ve told her that, and she knows how I feel about it; I’m on your side,” she tells me, a pleading look in her eyes.

“You just look so much like her Val,” I mutter, shrugging and looking at the floor.

“But I’m not her; just like Don isn’t Danny.”

I bite my lip, her words ringing with truth, stinging my thoughts. I nod my head as I look up from the floor and over at Val, a small smile pulling at my lips, “you’re right. I’m sorry,” I tell her.

“Don’t apologize, let’s just get these tattoos done,” she tells me, standing up and opening her purse.

“About that, guys, what are we planning on doing, because I’ve never really gotten a tattoo for someone else, and…” I pause when Val and Leana look at me worriedly, “I’m not backing out, Jeeze. I just don’t know what you guys are planning and it’s making me nervous.”

Val rolls her eyes at me and pulls a piece of paper out of her purse, laying it out on the table and looking at Trent and Darrell, who had walked over while we were talking. I roll my chair closer and lean forward, taking in the design and the words. I nod my head at it before sitting back and waiting for Trent or Darrell to say something.

“Who designed this?” Darrell asks, straightening up.

“Zacky did,” Leana states with a smile on her face.

“Well he did a damn good job, I should have known,” Trent states, leaning back in his chair and looking at the three of us.

“I’ll take this and make a copy Trent; you are doing Sparky’s right?”

Trent laughs and nods his head, “do you even have to ask?”

Darrell laughs as he walks away with the paper, leaving the four of us to sit and chat quietly until he comes back, handing the copy to Trent before leading Val and Leana over to his area of the shop. Trent had a thing about doing tattoos on girls; he just didn’t. I was the only acceptation, and no one ever seemed to complain. When I had first come into the shop, I was checking out a book of his artwork, and he introduced himself and then told me to go see Darrell because he didn’t do women, so I told him that was fine, I’d find another shop. He was shocked, and much to my surprise, told me to get in the chair.

That was the start of a long, complicated friendship, one that has been hard to maintain with both of our lives and schedules completely hectic. Not to mention that seeing each other out of his shop was just asking for trouble from his over-jealous girlfriends.

“Sparky, this isn’t you.”

I look up, startled and raise my eyebrows at Trent, “what do you mean?”

“I mean the wording, lettering and numbering is off. It’s just not you,” he tells me, shaking his head as he looks down at it.

“Val, would Zacky be pissed if I had Trent change this around?” I ask her, looking over at Darrell’s side of the shop.

“Nope; he said to make it our own,” she replies, looking down at the copy she had in her hands.

I nod my head and look back at the tattoo. It was amazing, yeah, but not for me. Instead of having ‘forever’ in capitals, I wanted him to write it out so that you could actually see why the word was there, so he went about tracing everything except for the letters and numbers, and then on the fresh wordless copy, he wrote underneath the picture, ‘foREVer’, making me smile.

“That’s perfect,” I tell him, leaning on his shoulder.

“Good, now how do you want the date set up?” He asks me, turning his head to see me.

I feel a light blush coat my cheeks at how close his face is to mine, but I don’t say anything; I avert my gaze to the paper, trying to concentrate on the numbers.

“How about you just write the numbers out? No spaces, no dashes, nothing in between them. All just one run on line of numbers,” I suggest, running my finger along the top of the design.
I feel him turn his face away and watch as his pen touches the paper, his hand barely moving as he carefully sketches out each individual number, with just enough space between them so that they don’t touch. He sighs when he finishes and leans back, forcing me off his shoulder.

“How’s that?” He asks, looking up at me.

“Perfect. It’s just right,” I state, smiling down at the tattoo.

“Alright where do you want it?” He asks, taking the paper and moving over to his work space, pulling the curtain aside for me to walk in behind him.

I shrug, looking back to see that Val’s tattoo was printed in pen on her calf, and Darrell was working on Leana’s as a chest piece, so as I sat in the chair, I leaned forward and grinned, my face right next to Trent’s as he leaned over his work chair.

“Are you going to tell me or are you just going to grin like an idiot?” He asks with a grin on his face as he looks down at his equipment.

“I want it on my lower stomach, just above my jeans,” I state, grinning.

Trent’s head shoots up and he glares at me, “are you fucking serious? Sparky I draw the line there,” he snaps, shaking his head at me.

I let a giggle slip out as he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest, “calm down Trent, what’s the big deal?” I ask him, giggling again.

“Sparky that’s just cruel,” he mutters, holding his glare.

“Awe come on, it’s not like you’ve got to take my pants down,” I tell him, laughing again.

“What’re you two doing over here?” Val asks, popping up next to the curtain.

“She expects me to give her a tattoo right above her panty line,” Trent snaps, still glaring at me.

Val’s eyes widen in disbelief, sending me into a fit of laughter, “that’s not true,” I choke out, laughing at the redness on Trent’s face.

“Oh really?” Val asks with a smirk on her face as she looks at me.

“Just above the pant line,” I mumble, cracking up again as Val starts to laugh.

Trent rolls his eyes and shuts the curtain, cutting Val off from seeing us, but not her laughter, which echoes as she walks back to Darrell’s side of the shop. I stifle my laughter and look innocently up at Trent, a new idea coming to me.

“Alright, how about I get it on my back, across my shoulder blades,” I suggest, the laughter finally dying down.

“Better,” he mumbles, going back to his equipment.

I shrug and throw my leg over the chair, sitting down backwards on it and giggling again, realizing I’m in a full t-shirt as I look at myself in the mirror. Trent lifts his head and looks at me, “what now?” He asks, sounding slightly annoyed.

“I uh, have to take my shirt off for this tattoo,” I mumble, blushing and grinning at the floor.

“You’re serious. Ah shit, Sparky, you’re going to kill me,” he grumbles.

My grin fades as I look up at him, the blush slowly fading as I take in his irritated expression as he sets about getting his gloves and needles out.

“Trent, you don’t have to do it,” I mumble, looking down at the chair.

“Huh? Sparky, I’m not mad at you,” he sighs and I can hear him walk closer.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all, I just, I don’t know… never mind,” I mumble, shaking my head.

Trent uses his finger to hook my chin and pull my face to the side and up to look at him, a small smile is on his face as he looks down at me, “Sparky, you just got cheated on by someone you cared about, and your best friend just passed away. Under normal circumstances, like if Jimmy was still here, I probably wouldn’t mind hitting on you and then taking you out,” he explains with the smile still on his face.

“Trent, what are you saying?” I ask him slowly, confused.