Pictures and Some Memories

I cracked my knuckles for the thousandth time as I approached the walking gate that separated me from Zacky's massive home. In my large handbag, nestled between my wallet, phone, and the unnecessary amount of receipts I had thrown about, sat a bottle of whiskey, a mutual favorite of ours. It was my peace offering, a way to make myself feel better for what had occurred the night before, all because I couldn't control my actions.

But, that was besides the point. I finally released the breath I was holding and pressed the button that would (hopefully) allow me entrance to his compound. After a minute of nothing, I rolled my eyes at it and pressed again, only to find a blank screen. I stared at the black metal gate and debated on just going back home until a piece of bright orange paper caught my eye.

"System is out of order. The gate(s) are temporarily unlocked until the system is restored-- Seaside Security Systems."

"Good thing his fans don't know where he lives," I said aloud, despite being alone. I remembered when Alex and I were followed back to my apartment when he and I had gone out to surprise Carly with lunch while she worked in studio. Three girls had caught sight of us on the way back, and rather than simply coming up to us and saying hello, they walked twenty feet behind us. They thought we hadn't noticed, either, pretending that their colorful hair wasn't a dead giveaway. It was deeply unsettling, especially when he and I tried to hold a simple conversation and heard the girls gasp every time he spoke. I remember using the chain lock for the first time since we moved in that day, scared that the girls had somehow followed us into the secure building.

I shook my head, clearing my head of the brief flashback, pulled up on the latch bar and walked through the gate toward the home. The Charger I'd seen the other day was nowhere to be found, the garages closed and seemingly hiding behind the metal doors. The yard, however, still seemed to be in slight disarray, with the path toward the front door still dark brown dirt, but metal bars were drilled and laid into the ground, meaning concrete was the next step. His front door was just as dark as the upturned earth, rich brown contrasting with freshly washed glass.

You've got this, I told myself mentally, pressing the doorbell once. It was a loud ring, but wasn't all that unpleasant like the buzzers I was used to in New York. A couple of barks resulted in my ringing of the doorbell, a howl even echoing in the general direction of the door.

"Sit, Marcie," I heard him say sternly, a laugh caught in his throat before he opened the door. A look of pure shock exploded across his features as he took me in. "Andi..." He whispered, obviously surprised to see me, one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows rising in curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

"I--" I started, but my throat seemed to close before an explanation could be uttered. Had he always been this tall? I couldn't help but take him in yet again. His dark hair was damp, his face clean shaven and rid of his trademark snakebites. He wore a simple black raglan t-shirt and a pair of jeans, both of which fit him extremely well. I swallowed nervously, then felt my cheeks brighten at the thought of being caught doing just that. Damn my nerves. Damn the effect he still held over me.

"Are you okay?" he asked when I still hadn't answered. I couldn't take the look of concern he held for me, couldn't decipher what he meant or his intentions or, once again, my own. My palms started to sweat, yet I still nodded quickly in response.

"I, um, brought you something I think you'd like," I sputtered, kicking myself mentally. He still managed to make me nervous, a trait I didn't like whatsoever. "A peace offering, if you would..."

His eyes widened at the amber filled bottle, a smile of satisfaction creeping onto his face. "This would ease my sore jaw and bruised ego..."

"Larkin was out of line last night. I'm so sorry you were the one in the line of fire," I said with a sigh, guilt washing over me for the thousandth time.

"I'd rather he man up and apologize, but, this is alright, too. You wanna come in?"

I nodded eagerly, another reason to kick myself. Tone it down, Andi. He turned and lead the way inside, his two dogs automatically sniffing at my bare ankles the moment I stepped inside. I laughed as the lab he previously told to sit licked my right ankle, the old dog still as friendly as ever.

"You remember my mom's dog, Marcie, right?" he asked, leaning dog to pat the chocolate colored dog on its head.

"I remember when she totally ate shit trying to go into your parent's backyard and ran into the sliding glass door," I grinned, kneeling down to scratch her behind her ears, in the place I knew she liked. The other dog, a small Golden Retriever puppy, was running around in circles, excited beyond belief. "Who's this one?"

"That little shit is Bear. I found him by the pier last week, dirty and whining and scared. I took him to the vet, found that he hadn't been chipped, and before I could post the first flyer, Nicholas fell in love with him. So, we're keeping him."

I nodded, picking up the small pup for myself. He was hardly old enough to be away from his mother, which of course made me jump to the conclusion that he was dumped there for a reason. His stomach was still a bit round, probably due to still having worms, but he seemed healthy enough. I giggled when Bear attacked my nose with his warm tongue, automatically making me pull away and put him down. "He's cute. Where's his partner in crime? I don't hear anything, which is odd for a toddler..."

"Usually, that means he's about to get into trouble, but he's actually still with my parents. They went to Olympia to visit my grandma while the wedding goes on. They're taking advantage of my frequent flier miles and my grandma is ecstatic to see him, too," he said as I stood and followed him further into his home. Unlike Matt's house or Jimmy's, his home was subdued, the two highlighted features being his grand staircase and fireplace in the main living room. The floors were deep brown hardwood, making the home feel warm and cozy. His kitchen was the most subdued of it all, with simple black granite countertops, dark cherrywood cabinets, and simple, stainless steel appliances. I found myself liking his home more than I'd ever like to admit. Then again, he and I had such similar tastes, even as teens, that it'd be weird if I didn't.

"It's so nice up there," I said dreamily, without meaning to. "I love it when the band goes on tour through Washington and Oregon, especially in the spring/summer months."

He smiled in agreement. "That's one thing I miss about it up there, aside from the music scene."

"This is a nice place you've got, Z," I murmured as he put the industrial sized bottle of alcohol away.

"Thank you. Its nowhere near the status I want Vengeance Manor to be, but, it's coming along."

I groaned loudly, causing him to come to a complete stop in front of his pantry. "Seriously?"

"What's your deal?" He asked, dead serious.

"'Vengeance Manor'? Come on! You're kidding, right?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm serious!"

"Wow... I hate to diagnose something without being a licensed doctor, but... the fame has gone to your head."

He laughed as he put away the whiskey. "Jeez, Andi, thanks a lot. Is being proud of what I've earned really that bad?"

"No, I suppose not," I muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

"I mean, you're probably really proud of the tiny apartment you've got in New York, right?"

I glared. "I've got a rather large loft in Brooklyn that my room-mate Carly and I worked our asses off wrangling from a rich couple looking to destroy it, thank you."

"Angry, are we?" He asks, the smile on his face making his eyes crinkle, the expression so familiar and-- how I hated to admit it-- still struck the same chord within me.

"You're definitely just as annoying as you've always been."

"Ouch, that definitely isn't what I thought I'd hear whenever you showed up unannounced."

"I get it, I'm sort of an asshole. Can we move along, please?" I asked impatiently, making him laugh. "Like, perhaps you could brag to me about your ever growing record collection, or the fact that the place looks immaculate despite having a two year old."

"Why do you have such little faith in me as a parent?" he asked. "I swear, you almost wish me to be a deadbeat or something."

"That's not it at all!" I cried out. "It's just... It's hard to wrap my head around is all. The last time I had an actual conversation with you, we were talking about the future, about how you were gonna be this big-time rockstar, with kids being the last thing you were worried about."

"Yeah, well, I never expected to get a girl pregnant, either, so that makes two of us," he sighed. "Nor did I expect her to go back to her addictions once our child was born and take off."

"Zack, I didn't know, I'm so sorry," I whispered, reaching out to give his shoulder a reassurring squeeze. It was something I had always done way back when, and as I repeated the action, it almost felt like how it once was. And strangely, I was getting more and more nostalgic for it, too.

"Nah, it's alright," he assured me instantly, although I did feel him relax underneath my touch. "You said it yourself: Life wouldn't be life if it was simple."

"Did I really say that?"

"You were really drunk that night, but yeah," he said, "You had climbed onto the roof of your parents house and I had to talk you down. You really don't remember this?"

"Hell, no, I don't! But climbing on things when I'm drunk seems to be a recurring theme in my life."

"Like the way you tried to climb onto me last night?" He asked, humiliation coursing through me immediately.

"Lord, have mercy," I groaned. "Can we skip past that? Drunk Andi really has no concept of personal space."

"Oh, I know," he notified me in a serious tone, causing the both of us to laugh.

"You know, all of this time I avoided coming back because I thought you and I wouldn't ever be able to have a conversation like this, like we used to. Guess I was wrong, huh?"

"Is that why you snuck around whenever we were on the same tours?" he asked.

I nodded, an involuntary sigh escaping before I said, "I still felt guilty for what I did. I mean, I thought I did the right thing, but, I still hurt you enough to not want to chance a run-in."

"You know, I swore I saw you at the Seattle date of Warped '07 and I thought I was fucking crazy because you were standing sidestage for Bad Religion and you know, you have to have an All Access laminate just to get past the barricade, so I was shocked you had gotten up there. Then Matt had said something and I looked away, only to turn back and see that you'd disappeared..."

"That was me," I answered for him. "Every time you thought you saw me on that tour, that was me."

"You're good at hiding," he tried to joke, although I could tell that he didn't find humor in it. "But you didn't have to. You never did."

"Well, I know that now," I sighed again, willing myself to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"It's alright," he says softly, his voice husky. Combine that with the fact that we were so close together that my heart raced, and you got the chill that made its way down my spine in that instant. He seemed to see this reaction in me and leaned closer, testing the attraction between us. My inward self screamed at me that this was dangerous, that more was at stake than my own selfish curiosity, but I felt frozen in place against that island in his kitchen. I was no longer in control, and as it usually does, it freaked me the hell out, but also thrilled me in a way that I couldn't even try to explain.

By now, he was so close that I could smell his aftershave, that I could see every individual fleck of green in his darkened eyes. "Zack," I whimpered, my voice strained once he placed his hand on my hip. "We shouldn't."

"Give me one good reason why," he countered, the feeling of his breath on my neck causing another wave of shivers down my body.

"He's sitting at my parent's house waiting for me," I murmured, severing the moment entirely. I felt him sigh before he backed away, the absence of him against me oddly unsettling. "I should go."

"That'd probably be best," he replied, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, an old habit he hadn't gotten rid of.

I grabbed my bag off of the island, letting out a deep breath. "Listen, I--"

"Don't apologize again, please. I've heard you say sorry enough as it is. We just got caught up in the moment. That's all."

"Right," I agreed immediately. "Two people that still care about each other, caught up in the moment. But it won't happen again, right?"

He hesitated briefly before nodding. "Right."

"I'll see you later?" I finally said in goodbye after he had walked me to the door.

"Yeah, of course," he answered quickly. "Be careful."

"Always," I replied, opening the door and stepping out. It wasn't until we had finally said goodbye and the door was shut that I realized that we had repeated the same ritual he and I always did before the other left, and this time, the familiar wave of guilt pushed me under yet again.

"I'm so screwed," I said aloud, bitterness deep in my voice. I then pushed the pedestrian gate back open, hoping that I didn't look too flustered as I prepared to face Larkin once again.