The Aviators

“Val, what’re you doing?”

Huh? Well, duh...what does it look like?

Matt’s just appeared behind my comfortable position in the window seat of his California bungalow. We’re at home in Huntington Beach. Avenged Sevenfold is taking a well earned break from touring. The guys are priming for their new album.

I glance up at him. He lifts an eyebrow a curious expression in his eyes. He’s not wearing his aviators. Yeah, I always notice when he’s not wearing them.

“Well?”

He really hates having to repeat himself; sometimes I wonder why I push him so much. Shrugging I look out the window absently fiddling with the mp3/voice recorder clasped in my right hand. He makes some kind of exasperated snort and next I know he’s spun me around and has my recorder in his hand.

“What is this?” His tone is harsh, but not really angry. More curious than anything.

I blink at him, lick my lips. “Just...nothing, Master.”

He frowns looking at it then back at me. “I heard you talking.” He waits for an explanation.

Sliding my hands to my arms and rubbing slowly I answer, because what else am I supposed to do? He has every right to ask me questions and I have no choice but to answer.

You’re probably thinking that I shouldn’t bother. That I should be allowed some privacy. But, it doesn’t work like that. You have to understand...if Matt tells me to jump...well, you know how it goes.

“Just...dictating.”

“Dictating what?”

I shrug and tilt my face up to his staring into his face. He’s so tall, compared to my puny height. People used to call me ‘dwarf’ as a joke. Not that I found it particularly hilarious or anything.

“Val, dictating what?” There’s an edge to his voice.

Dammit. He’s getting pissed. I hate when he gets angry at me. Yeah, yeah...I hear you...don’t make him angry then. Do as he says. That’s easy for you to say. You don’t belong to him.

I close my eyes then open them again. He’s still waiting, but this time his eyes are darker and the look he’s giving me is one I know that I have to heed otherwise he’s going to let loose with something real unpleasant.

“Just telling my story...”

Matt blinks at me. “Your story?”

Yeah, I know...pretty dumb, right. Who wants to hear my story? I know that’s what he’s thinking. I look down and nod. “Yes, Master.”

He clicks the player on and tilts his head as my voice issues from the little speaker.

“...so boring, doing washing and cleaning...and making sure the dog, Bella, doesn’t run into the walls...”

I shiver and peek up at him to try and gauge his reaction. He doesn’t look particularly pleased.

Shaking his head, he clicks it off and tosses it onto a table nearby then glowers at me. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time. Nobody wants to hear it.”

Of course not. Nobody’s meant to hear it, really. I just want to record my story. For my own memories, my own benefit. Of course I don’t say any of this to him. Don’t want him to think I’m dissing him or anything like that. After all he’s the big recording star. Well with the band and all.

Like I already mentioned, they’re about to go back into the studio. The little makeshift one in Matt’s parents garage. That’s where they go to write. I’m sure Matt’ll drag me along. Get me to make cups of coffee etcetera, etcetera for his friends. Not that that really bothers me.

“Val, are you listening to me?”

Oops. Matt’s still talking to me and my mind has to wander.

I force my attention back to him. “No...sorry...what did you say?”

Matt sighs, shaking his head at me again. His expression takes on a grim cast. “I think you need to be reminded of your place.”

Well, how’s that for a damned heart stopper. Hearing those words makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Why, you ask? Well, because when Matt tells me he thinks I need reminding of my place, he means serious business. It means that I am in deep shit.

He’s warned me of this so many times. In fact it was the number one rule he gave me the day after he bought me. I should tell you about that next morning, but...I can’t afford to be distracted right now. Matt is really quite angry with me.

Bowing my head, I let my arms fall loose by sides and just wait for whatever he decides to do. Right now, I am scared out of my mind. Iwill admit that honestly to you. Very rarely does Matt do anything to me in anger, but this is one of those rare moments. And, it is safe to say that his anger terrifies me. Like, really, really scares me shitless.

I mean, he’s not scary per se...apart from when he’s up on stage telling some ‘little faggot’ he’s gonna beat their ‘fucking little pussy ass’. You should go find the YouTube of that. Damned funny. Still, like I’ve been saying, he’s really a sweet guy. But, right now, he’s ticked off, and I’m not helping matters much, by not paying attention.

“Valary.” There’s a hard tone to his voice now.

I shiver and murmur. “Sorry...paying attention.”

He growls. “You’d better hope you are.”

I clasp my hands in my lap. He steps closer. He’s always so overwhelming...just the presence of him in a room causes me to unravel; all my little sane thoughts go flying out the window.

“Look at me.”

I raise my eyes to his. I see...disappointment. That’s what I see, and that damn near breaks my heart. The one thing that frightens me more than Matt’s anger is the thought of disappointing him. I’m forever disappointing people...and it never usually bothers me.

Y’know, I’m the kinda girl who doesn’t care what people think. But, Matt...I care what he thinks. Crazy, hey? Well, okay. Maybe not that crazy. Everybody probably cares what M Shadows thinks.

“Jesus, Val. Pay attention.”

I jump at his tone; it’s gone so cold now.

He grabs me by the left arm; always the left...don’t know why that is. But, I really shouldn’t be wondering such random things, right.

He tugs me to my feet. “Get up.”

I obey. No other choice unless I want him to pull my arm out of its socket.

Once I’m standing he just glares at me then flings my arm back to my side. “The guys are coming ‘round in half an hour. You are going to make sure they have everything they want. Got it.”

“Yes, Master.” I sound like a robot.

I hear you...where’s my personality gone? I still have it. But it’s not wise to use it when Matt’s in a mood. He gives me a long look then turns on his heel and walks away, but not before picking up the mp3 player and sticking it in his back pocket.

Well, there goes my story...in Matt’s back pocket...at least I still have my journal. Yeah, I write things down too. Especially if I’m up at night and he’s asleep. But, I guess I shouldn’t risk pissing Matt off any more than he already is.

Sigh.

Not that I can really complain. His friends aren’t really all that demanding. Now, just as long as Brian doesn’t suddenly decide to bring Michelle with him, I think everything will be fine. Oh, well. I will just have to wait and see.

Notes

thanks to my new readers :) enjoy :D