Only in Your Dreams

Yawning, I awake from the minimal amount of sleep I allowed myself to have. I stretched my arms above my head and took in my surroundings. I still couldn't believe I was in California. Being from New Jersey, it was a dream come true. At least it was to me, since I've been wanting to come here for ages!

My feet carried my lazily to the bathroom in my small hotel room. I took a quick shower. I washed my hair and body as fast as I could. The sleep was still potent in my body. All it wanted to do was crawl back in bed for the rest of the day. I pushed passed my tired state and shut off the shower. I got out of the shower and dried myself off. After drying my hair, I applied black liner to my eyes. A matching pair of panties and bra covered me as I strode out of the confined bathroom.

I heard the blaring music coming from my phone. The song Scream by Avenged Sevenfold alerted me of an Incoming call. I rushed over to see who was calling at such an early time. The caller ID read; headquarters - Must Answer. It was the name I gave to the person who ran the contest. A contest I had won, which was why I was in California.

Today was the day. It was the day I would get to meet the boys that were like heroes to me. I have been a fan for a very long time. I've purchased numerous amounts of merchandise. I've spent hours reading and trying to write fan fictions about them. I've dedicated my life to the five boys of Avenged Sevenfold.

“Hello?” I answered rapidly.

“Miss Thomas?” the man on the other end of the line asked.

“This is she,” I bit my lip as I flopped on the end of the bed.

“This is Greg Finely. I’m calling concerning your contest win.”

“Yes, what about it? Is it a hoax? Did you call the wrong person? Am I not supposed to be me?” I rambled.

“Of course not Miss,” he covered his laugh, “a car will be picking you up promptly and taking you to the studio, where the band is.”

“Oh, okay,” I sighed, “good.”

“Now you know the drill, right? The rules?”

“But of course dear sir,” I flung my hand for dramatic effect.

“The car will be there in about thirty minutes.”

“Wonderful, thank you,” I hung up before he could say he was joking.

I raced against time to finish getting dressed. I slid on a pair of jeans that hadn’t had the best of luck. I looped a white bullet-lined belt through the jean holes. I rummaged though my luggage and found a tank top that I threw on and a pair of spiked wedges. I accessorized with a ring, skull earrings, and a pair of aviators. I shoved my hair out of my face and into a super messy bun, not truly caring how I looked.

“Yes,” I answered the hotel phone.

“The car is here for you Miss Thomas,” the bored voice told me.

“Thank you,” I rushed out of the room.

I grabbed my key card, threw it in my black bag, then locked the door behind me. I power walked to the elevator and checked my face in the reflection of the elevators doors. I hadn't applied any makeup what-so-ever. I felt extremely naked now.

The silver, sliding doors opened and revealed the lobby of the large hotel. The marble flooring was sparkling clean. All of the staff had fake smiles just like any other person that worked more than an eight hour day. I walked passed the small area where sofas were lined for a casual evening. I passed the hall to the dining area. I passed the bell hop who nearly fell over an enormous luggage.

“Good morning,” I smiled brightly at a guy that held a sign with my name.

“Miss Luciana Thomas?”

“Yes, that is me,” I nodded.

He didn’t say another word. He opened the door of the large, black SUV. The interior of the car was even bigger, it seemed. The upholstery was dark beige patent leather. It smelled of cigarettes and music. I inhaled the familiar smell of tobacco. It almost made me crave one. I held back the urge, because it wasn't my car and I didn’t want to get yelled at.

The drive was fairly short due to the fact that they provided the hotel. The studio they were using was about a fifteen drive from the hotel. I grabbed my bag when the driver opened the door for me. I replaced my sunglasses over my eyes, masking the bare skin. I felt weird without makeup on. I wasn't trying to impress any of the them, I just preferred to wear make-up.

Another man was at the front door of the very large studio I was driven to. His arms crossed over his chest in a, hey, I’m a bad-ass, kind of way. I wasn't scared really.

“Hello,” I smiled at him.

“Name,” he nearly growled.

“My name is Luciana Sophie Thomas. And yours is?” I outstretched my hand, holding back a giggle.

“Matthew Charles Sanders,” he shook my hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, sir,” I laughed.

“Come meet the rest of the delinquents,” he held the door open for me.

I thanked him and walked passed him. The first room looked like a waiting room. It was similar to the one in a doctors office, just less bland. My heels clicked against the linoleum flooring. I twirld around to face Matt. He shut the door and nodded at me.

“Follow me,” he smiled, showing off his dimples.

“Just so you know,” I spoke up, “my shirt doesn't mean anything.”

“That’s too bad,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued walking down a wide hallway.

“It was the closest thing I could get my hands on. Honest to God truth,” I held up a hand, “I have a shit ton of shirts like this. I don’t even know what half of them say anymore. There is just too many to remember.”

Matt laughed at my sad attempt of a joke.

“It wasn't really finny,” I slapped him on the back as I caught up with him in my heels.

“I know,” he shoved his hands in his jean pockets, “but you are a very spunky girl, eh?”

“Spunky? It’s been a long time since I've heard that word. Glad to welcome it back in my daily vocabulary,” I nodded curtly.

Matt had stopped in front of a door where the light was red. He had no problem barging in on whatever was happening in the room. He picked up a pillow from a nearby couch and threw it at Zacky Vengeance, who was sleeping opposite the pillowed couch. Zacky jolted from the bed, ready to fight the bastard who had woken him up.

“Shit man,” he grumbled, “what the fuck.”

“Sorry, bro,” I shrugged, “Matt’s just like that.”

His green eyes averted their attention to me. They showed the confusion and curiosity. He straightened himself up before introducing himself to me.

“Zacky,” I shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” I smiled brightly, “the name’s Luciana.”

“Oh yeah,” his brows shot up in realization, “you’re the contest winner. Fuck,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh, shit,” my eyes widened, “no? Really? I never knew,” I laughed.

I walked over to the controls and looked inside the booth. Avenged Sevenfold’s guitarist, Synyster Gates, was laying down riffs. I leaned in and propped my elbows on the swivel chair. I nodded my head as he continued to play a new solo for their new album. His eyes flickered up to meet mine and he fumbled with the strings.

“Gates,” I heard Johnny Christ holler.

“That was shit,” I blurted out.

“Who asked your opinion,” he got out of the booth and spat the words at me.

“It was a joke, boo,” I flopped next to Arin on the couch, “Sup, bro?”

“Not much,” his lips curved into a shy smile.

“Who are you anyway?” An annoyed Synyster Gates scoffed.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Brian,” I called him by his real name.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“I’m the contest winner. Remember I’m supposed to help you all out with this album. Winner will be able to get first view of new music from Avenged Sevenfold and help the band out.”

“I still think this contest was a bit weird,” Johnny turned his swivel chair, facing us.

“I did, too. That’s why I entered.”

“You’re a very strange being,” Zacky sat on the arm of the couch next to me, “I like you.”

I laughed at Zacky, and nudged him lightly from where he sat. Brian had left the room to go off to another room. Arin sat quietly next to me. Zacky kept laughing and picking on me. Matt flipped through papers with, I think, lyrics or notes on them. I huffed off the couch and clapped my hand together.

“So let’s get to business boys. This album ain’t gonna make itself.”