Poor little Zacky. He looked like he was about to cry. Me, I did all my crying when we recieved the phone call that Jimmy had been found in his home, death by overdose. The air around us was filled with sniffles and sobs. I felt restless and angry, wanting to hit something to releive my frustrations because of the Rev's death. I almost laughed out loud: It was usually Matt getting angry and throwing fits, but today, Shadz was quiet and resigned, a good sound for himn, considering he never stopped talking. Val sat next to Matt, eyes red, mascara in streaks down her face. Poor everyone. Squeezing Zack's shoulder, I ran my hands through my long-ish black hair. The Rev had been the only one with hair longer than me, but he was gone now, leaving me to be the Rapunzel of the band. The rest of the boys probably thought that there was something wrong with me. I was the only one who wasn't openly upset and that had a sense of (if somewhat) dark humor about Jimmy "The Rev's" passing. The truth was, I was worse off than the others, just choosing to keep it bottled up inside, to be the rock of the groups. If I decided to break down, who would Matt and Val, Zacky and Johnny, or Michelle cling to? That's right. No one. As I drowned myself in my own thoughts, I was vaugley aware of Vengance going up to the podium and speaking, speaking about our old friend Jimmy. Jimmy, who's antics kept us on our toes, who was always ready for a good time. And as I remembered, that was when I started to cry.