Stealer of Hearts

A week later, we were left with only one remaining week of touring. One more week of this lifestyle before we can all go home to the comfort of our own beds and living in the space we were once so used to. Though, we will miss touring for the while we're off tour - the closeness, the energy, the shows, possibly even the cramped sleeping quarters. That's just one down-side though, so it shouldn't be counted.

There was a certain distinct strain between mine, Billy, and Zacky's relationship, something that only we knew about. We tried our best to behave normally - be happy, cheerful, laugh... but I can just tell every time I take a careful glance at them. It was somewhat fake towards each other, though they were truly trying to be friendly and civil, as though nothing had happened.

But honestly, no one can really say that after a drama feud, they can go back to being friends and acting like the whole thing didn't happen, without the slightest bit of awkwardness. It will take some times before that went away and things were truly back to normal. The memory will always be there, lingering around in the back of our thoughts, begging to resurface.

But sometimes, you just have to learn to try and repress certain memories, forget them and leave them in the past. What's done with doesn't matter anymore. The fact that it happened should be enough.

We just happened to be playing a second show in the same state we played in last night, so we had spent the night in a nearby hotel, slept in somewhat late, and spent about an hour or two of the morning driving to the next city. There really wasn't anything productive to do on days like this, unless you're a pro at finding really good ways to keep yourself (and others) entertained the entire day until the show.

It started off with Tuesday Morning deciding to go on Avenged Sevenfold's bus. Then after a while, around one o'clock when there was nothing else to do, Good Charlotte came over to join us. We had another five hours before the doors to the venue opened, and quite surprisingly, it wasn't as awkward as I thought it would've been.

Things are definitely making an improvement.

"You know what we should do?" Jimmy asked, sitting down next to me and letting out a quick sniffle. A bottle of beer was already in his hands.

"Go golfing?" Zacky guessed with an eyebrow raised. He was leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed across his chest and his leg bouncing.

Jimmy shook his head. "No, but your idea totally beats mine." He placed his alcoholic beverage back down on the table that was placed in front of the couches in the 'living room', and sat back with his arms folded behind his head.

I looked at him. "What was your idea, then?" I asked him but he shook his head, refusing to answer. I nudged him in the side. "Come on, you spoke up first. You should tell us."

But he continued to be the stubborn one. "I'd rather not say now; it's lame and you guys probably wouldn't have liked it."

"Knowing him," Johnny spoke up, "I probably don't want to know what it was." He let out a laugh and Jimmy shot him a glare, muttering a quick 'fuck you' before swiftly jumping out of his seat.

"Are we gonna sit here and be boring and waste our day, or are we gonna go golfing?!" he exclaimed and began his way towards the door.

"Do you know how to get there?" I called out after him when he was halfway out the door.

He shouted back, "No!" but still made his walk down the street.

I heard a sigh as I turned away from the door and resumed back to facing everyone else. Val, Matt's girlfriend, got out of her seat while everyone else did the same, and grabbed a folded map off the table in the lounge area. "Better take this with us," she said, and we all agreed before piling off the bus. Jimmy was already halfway down the street by the time we all got into a full walking speed.

I could feel the cool grass touching my toes through the edges of my flip-flops as I stood in place, swinging my golf club loosely in my fingers like a pendulum. Everyone else was spread out throughout the golf course, mostly fooling around and not taking the games very seriously.

I would've much preferred it if we went miniature golfing instead. Then, they wouldn't be using terms and actual golfing rules that I didn't quite understand. Even though they're fooling around now, it still very much puzzled me.

A cold sensation came into contact with the back of one of my thighs and I screamed, unprepared for the strike. I whirled around and glared at whoever decided to hit me with their club, which just so happens to be Billy, laughing like it was hilarious. It was a warm day today and I decided to wear shorts; I personally thought it was a great idea...

"You're such a jerk," I jokingly said, pushing him by the chest backwards slightly. He stumbled back a bit, his laughter dying down to chuckles. I laughed along and pretended to try to hit him in the shins with my own gear. Golf, in some small way, is actually a dangerous sport if you think about it. One slip-up and a person just may be knocked out.

"Well, I'm sorry," he said, rolling his eyes with a bit of an attitude, "But it was a perfect target." He placed a hand to his heart. "It's not my fault that you open yourself up to these things and it's so tempting not to do."

I gave him a look. "What's so tempting? The chance to jiggle my thighs?" He began to laugh again and I tried to point my club at him to the best of my one-handed abilities. "Shut your mouth." I laughed and moved along as the others began to maneuver further down the course to the next whole.

This wasn't as fun as I thought it would be- having no clue how to really play the game, having nearly no skills of hitting the small white ball, following everyone around while they played (or attempted to), and hauling around a long club for no particular reason.

"So, why aren't you playing?" Billy asked, walking beside me. "I haven't seen you do much."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, you can't do much if you can't hit the ball."

He shot me a blank look. "You're kidding me."

I raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding what he meant. "Kidding you on what? What did I say?"

"You can't hit the ball."

"Not unless the hole is like, four feet away," I exaggerated, pointing to some invisible hole that I wished was right in front of us. "I'm probably like, the worst golf player here." I laughed.

He shook his head. "No, you're not."

I rolled my eyes. "How do you know?"

"Because," he took a pause to drop his club to the ground and adjust my hands so that I was holding mine with both hands, "I'm going to teach you."

I raised an eyebrow at him with a smile. "Teach me? Oh really?" I watched as he slowly went around me.

He nodded his head. "Of course- until you get to my level. I can't let you be the worst player."

"And exactly what level are you?" By now, I had to slightly lean forward and turn my head to where he was standing, directly behind me.

He shrugged his shoulders once again. "I don't know, but I'll know when you're close to being better than me." He smiled and wrapped his arm around me, his hands settling on my hands to guide me on the proper stance. I rolled my eyes at his ego-filled statement and shook my head.

My heart sped up as I was enclosed around him, my back against him as he leaned forward on me. His hovering body created a comforting warmth against my upper body, even through the heat surrounding us that was already warm enough. His fingers, though somewhat rough from years of experience with the guitar, sent chills through my hands where they made contact and down to the tips of my fingers. I don't remember when was the last time I was this close to him- or if we ever were at all.

But as he swung my arms back and forth to get me into the habit of the correct way to hit the ball, I was sure of one thing as he let go to examine his 'work'.

I liked having him close and near.