Brian groaned as he rolled over, surprised to find the warmth of another body. He kept his eyes closed wishing desperately for that someone to be Michelle. A moment later, he opened his eyes. The sight of the back of Zacky’s head confused and utterly baffled him. He turned on his side and closed his eyes again, trying to rein in his racing thoughts. He consciously moved away from Zacky, not wanting to be near him at all.

He didn’t understand. What had he done to make Michelle hate him? It wasn’t like he’d changed. He was the exact same person he was when they first met. He tried blocking out the little voices filled with doubt from his head. The little demons always won; always took over. If he kept letting the thoughts run rampant, he would snap.

Zacky stirred in his sleep, Brian simply kept boring holes at the back of his head. Why the hell was he in his bed? He didn’t want him. He wanted Michelle. No matter how many times he repeated that to himself for the better part of an hour, he couldn’t fully convince himself. Brian was sure Zacky being in his bed was a result of his actions. And like every time, he had acquiesced. That’s just who Zacky was. His head pounded more violently, minute after minute. The throbbing did not cease. He had lost track of time when Zacky finally turned on his back and yawned, stretching at the same time.

His emerald eyes pierced right through Brian. They never failed to do so. Zacky turned on his side and let out a sheepish grin tug at his mouth, the light making the snakebites glint slightly. Brian’s demeanor did not change. He cleared his throat and belted out a yawn, looking as disinterested as ever. He closed his eyes, missing the flash of disappointment that crossed Zacky’s face for a mere second.

“What are you doing in my fucking bed, Baker?” he asked with a yawn. “I don’t have fucking sleepovers.”

Zacky masked his hurt with a look of anger. Brian never failed to talk down to him. It was customary; something that he was used to yet it slowly ate away at him. He would never be good enough. Musically and personally, he would forever be in Brian’s shadow.

“You fucking asked me to…” he answered bitterly, staring straight at him.

Brian wouldn't even meet his gaze. Another one of his ways to cut him down, no doubt. Zacky’s stomach was slowly turning into knots. How much longer he could take of this, he wasn’t sure. All these years and nothing. He had Gena and while he loved her, he knew it would never be nothing like what he felt for Brian. It made his heart ache. Brian stood up and scratched his side, his back to Zacky once again. He couldn’t stand to face him now.

If he had asked Zacky to stay it meant his walls had come down. That was the last thing he wanted. The only one he could bare his soul to and not feel the least bit ashamed was Jimmy; no one else. He walked to his bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush. He turned on the tap and let the water run over the brush, one finger running against the bristles.

Zacky groaned and rolled over. He knew this would be a bad idea. Just when he thought he was getting somewhere with Brian, it came crashing down on him. He needed to get into his head that his daydreams would never become reality. He quickly did up his pants and pulled his shoes on. He needed to get out of here as soon as possible. There had to be some way to convince himself of the awful reality: he would never be Brian’s.

Brian heard Zacky shuffling in the room. His anger caused by Michelle’s absence had grown immensely. He couldn’t take all this shit anymore. It had been months. Months of countless nights of drinking and sobbing to Jimmy. It just wasn’t him. And then to top it all off, asking Zacky to stay. That was the final straw. He needed to gather up his remaining shreds of dignity. He put the brush back in the cup and turned off the tap, wiping his mouth as he walked back in his room.

“That’s what you shoulda done last night,” he said flatly.

Zacky’s back stiffened at hearing the comment. It was like a jab to his heart. He kept holding his chin up even though tears were burning in his eyes. He took one step forward and refused to let Brian’s remarks get to him. He knew him all too well. Brian chuckled and shook his head.

“Little bitch…” he muttered as he walked to his dresser.

He wasn’t sure why he was taking out his anger on Zacky. It was most likely due to the fact that he was the only one who always seemed to put up with his bullshit no matter what. He let that easy smirk slide into place as he rummaged through the drawers.

The tears threatened to escape now more than ever, but Zacky forced himself to turn on his heel to face him. He had enough of the abuse; enough of the torture. This time he would not hold back.

All that bravado was soon ripped from him as Brian’s raucous laughter rang though his ears. His stomach dropped as Brian pointed at him and continued laughing.

“Are you gonna fucking cry?” he asked, trying to catch his breath. “I can’t believe you’re gonna fucking cry!”

Zacky clenched his jaw and stared coldly at Brian as a tear slid down one of the sides of his face. He cursed inwardly as he promptly wiped it away, but more fell as Brian’s laughter grew louder.

“What a fucking bitch!” he said in between breaths.

Zacky stifled a sob as he turned on his heel again and darted out of the room. His insides felt crushed, his heart felt like it was shattered into a million pieces. The last thing he heard was his laughter ringing throughout the house as he slammed the front door shut. The tears flowed freely with every step he took. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before managing to get his door open. As soon as the engine roared to life, he peeled out of Brian’s driveway; the fresh hot tears now accompanied by choked sobs. Brian was right. He was a bitch.