Carry On

The chill of October was causing my breath to look like small clouds of smoke. I wish I had a joint. I'd probably be a lot more calm. I hated performing in front of people. I loathed it. I especially hated performing in front of Dad.

"Hey, Kid, you okay?" He asked and I turned around. He was there with Papa Gates, Zack, and Matt.

"I'm fine. Hey Papa," I nodded and he gave me a hug. I was also hugged by the other two before taking a deep breath.

"Looking forward to see you kicking ass. See you on stage," Dad smiled before walking away, my grandfather following.

"You'll be alright, Kid," Matt smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," I said and he scoffed before he too walked off.

Zacky remained, something behind his back. The night was dark and I couldn't tell what it was. I assumed it was one of those 'Good Luck' balloons you find at the store, or maybe food. He knew my love for anything that wasn't Dad's cooking. He took a step forward, "Hey. How's the headache?" He asked.

"Not good," I replied and he grinned.

"That's what you get. Karma's a bitch," He retorted and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don't know..."

He smiled, "Well, this was going to be your birthday present from Gena and I. She couldn't make it tonight, so she made me promise her that you would call her later," He said and I raised an eyebrow, "I think now's a better time than any to give it to you."

From behind his back he pulled out a guitar. It was from his signature line, but redone. You could hardly even tell it was a Zacky Vengeance guitar anymore. The body was still that beautiful maroon color I always admired. The 6661 was removed, leaving the body plain and beautiful, just how I liked it. The frets were redone. The small emblems now replaced with tiny little swirls, so delicate and pristine. On the twelfth fret his 6661 was also removed, and replaced with the silhouette of a feather.

I took it from him, admiring the weight of it. It was lighter than his and Dad's, making it easier to turn in my hands. My name was carved at the top, but so small no one would be able to see it. I liked that. I looked at it closer, admiring the body work. I raised an eyebrow at some slight scuffing at the bottom, and hoped that I hadn't done messed it up already. I turned it around, seeing if there was anymore damage. That's when I saw it. The crack in the neck. A snap that had been put back together, "This is..."

"Gena and I decided that on your eighteenth birthday, ten years after you had destroyed it..." He chuckled, "We would give it to you. Of course, yesterday I had the unfinished version, because I thought I had a few more weeks," He explained and I remembered our talk yesterday, "After I talked to you I told Gena everything," My head snapped up and I raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't worry, she promised not to tell your dad or any of the other girls. But it was her idea to give it to you before your concert. So I sent it in last night to have it finished. I didn't pick it up until an hour ago."

"But this is your guitar. This," I shook my head, "This isn't a copy from your line, Zack. This is your guitar. You took everything that was apart of you off of it," I stated.

He shrugged, "It's your guitar. It was yours the moment you dropped it. And why should you have a guitar that represents me, when it should represent you?"

"I love it," I looked up and smiled, "Dad's okay with it?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," He grinned, "He's known since you were eight that we were going to do this. It was a part of your surprise. We actually had to convince him to not get you any guitars until this one."

"Really?"

"You could ask your dad for a fucking pony and he would get it for you, Liza. Sure, he might complain and groan about it, but he would get it for you," He laughed and I nodded. That was pretty accurate, "We told him to let you sweat out a couple more years with his guitar until it was time to give you this one."

"Uncle Zacky, I don't know what to say... Except thank you but I don't think that's enough," I stated, looking up at him. He shook his head.

"Thank you is enough, Liza. You know you're like a daughter to me and Gena. And like I said before, you're our favorite. You'll always hold a special place close to us, you know that right?" He asked and I nodded. He looked down at his watch, "You're going to be late. I had it tuned already, but you should warm up a bit on it before you start the concert. I put some new strings so they might be a bit rough. I'll see you inside, Kid," He said and I nodded. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around his middle, and he returned the hug.

"Love you, Uncle Zack," I said and he laughed.

"Love you too, Kid."

"And for the record, you're my favorite uncle," I smiled.

"Don't tell Matt that," He chuckled and I rolled my eyes.

"Matt should know he's far from my favorite," I replied and he shook his head.

"Shut up and get inside," He smiled and I nodded.

I walked away, guitar in hand. I immidietly went to the amplifier to plug in. I set my old white guitar back in its case, pushing it aside. I pulled up a chair and sat, placing the black strap around my neck and taking hold of the strings. I closed my eyes and I played a chord. It was beautiful. The strings were soft and light, unlike the thick and heavy ones Dad used. I was so happy to finally have a guitar that represented me. Now I just had to make it through the concert.

When the curtains were raised I saw them. All ten of them. Dad, Zack, Gena, Matt, Val, Johnny, Lacey, Jimmy, Leana, and Papa Gates. All of them were sitting front and center. Dad must have pulled strings to get such good seats after arriving later than some of the other parents.

Whenever Dad saw me at concerts, he was a judge. He saw there, face emotionless, as he watched me play. No signs of being content or angry, just blank. And it irritated the hell out of me. I hated not knowing what he thought of my performance until after we were finished. Papa Gates was the same exact way. I despised having both of them in front of me while I played. And I wasn't sure if my solo performance tonight would be perfect like they expected.

The first movement was being played. I missed the first few measures due to not paying attention, but jumped in without anyone noticing. As long as I acted like nothing was wrong, Dad would believe it. I continued to play, even though I wasn't able to focus. I could feel Dad's eyes burning into me, watching my every move. He was watching the angle of my wrist, my posture, the way my pic was strumming the strings.

The time for solo performances for seniors came all too soon, and I found myself backstage waiting for my name to be called, "You okay?" Amanda asked. She was speaking to me again.

No.
"I didn't practice," I muttered and she smiled softly at me.

"You'll be fine, Liz. And if you mess up improvise. Just like you do in class."

Whenever I messed up music in class I would jump into my own self-written harmonies and melodies. Doug never minded, and sometimes even asked me to write my creations down. Sometimes they would show up again in a different piece of music. I sighed. Amanda was right.

I was abou to walk on stage when I stopped. If I was going to improvise, then I was going to do it my way. I quickly turned around, ignoring Amanda's bewildered look, and grabbed my pedal kit from my locker. It had all of the effect pedals on one board and would allow me to use distortion or any other strange sounds on my guitar. I quickly handed it to a stage tech and he was quick to get it set up.

I finally walked onto the stage, my new guitar in my hand. There was a chair set up and a music stand with my music already on it, the pedal board beneath it, "Liza is one of our eighteen seniors in the music department this year. She's been with us since she was freshman, and she's been one of the most talented guitarists I've ever seen," Doug stated, "She made the advanced band as a freshman, and was playing solo performances before any of the other seniors. She's mastered several advanced classical pieces, such as the one she'll be performing tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Liza Haner."

I took a deep breath, waiting for Doug to exit stage left. He gave me a nod and the spotlight was on me. My black dress suddenly felt hot and I could feel myself shaking. Already Dad had his mouth set in a firm line, and he was eying my shaking hands. I looked to my music and suddenly it looked so foreign to me. I sighed, opening the song at the suggested tempo. I was trying my best to stay focused, but I so desperately just wanted to sleep. Just black out then and there.

Then it happened. I forgot the rest of the piece. And with my mind all jumbled, I couldn't focus enough to read the rest of the piece. I needed to do something quick before Dad flipped a shit in front of all these people. Ignoring his questioning gaze, I stepped on the distortion pedal and began to make up things as I went. I stayed in the same key, my fingers flying as I tried to keep up with what my mind was telling me.

A minor chord. C minor. B flat. A sharp.

I pressed another effect pedal, bending my strings at the same time to create cool and creative sounds. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Doug smiling, and I allowed myself to have a small smile myself. Hell, I have a new guitar and it's the last concert I'll ever play. I might as well play the shit out of it. With that I started to play several parts of Beethoven that I remembered from my four years in band. I intermixed the harmonies with melodies from Beast and the Harlot.

"Yeah!" I heard Jimmy yell, and I bit back a laugh, still not finished with my piece.

I was almost done. It was the home stretch. I finished with a long run starting at the top of the scale, all the way to the bottom, and back up. With one last powerful chord, Doug was back out, clapping. I stood up and looked out to the crowd finally. To my surprise they were all standing, cheering, applauding, "She's also the most creative of our students," Doug laughed with his usual cheerful smile, "Liza Haner, everybody!" He shouted and the clapping intensified. I looked down to see Jimmy giving me a thumbs up the biggest of his smiles gracing his face, and the rest of the Avenged family smiling as well.

And there was Dad. Looking pissed off as ever.