High Voltage

You know that fuckery when the skin starts coming off your fingertips because you haven’t touched your baby for that long? And with baby I mean my guitar. Yeah, that sucks balls. I’m kinda a bit too lazy when it comes to rehearsing mere scales just so the fingertips don’t get too sensitive. I remember once I thought I could just show up for a gig and just wing it, I should probably admit I hadn’t touched my gun for a little over a month. God, that was the bloodiest show I’d done like ever. With the lack of extra layer of skin on your fingertips you can manage to do two or three songs with a slight cringing when it comes to slides and pull off’s, the pain kicks in when you realize your set consists of twelve magnificent finger benders. At the end of the concert my fingers were legitimately bleeding. It looked like they’re having a period... heavy flooded. If I recall right, there was a bit of a commotion about it and the photo was still chilling on the web somewhere. Probably just needed to google that shit.

Why am I telling this? I’m pregnant and that scares the crap out of me. I was lucky I wasn’t having those morning sicknesses, dealing only with minor cramps and mood swings, but what terrified me to no limits – soon I’m gonna get really fucking fat and god knows I’m not gonna touch those bronzey strings until the baby pops out of my vagina. Brian made himself very clear about that. No shows. Absolutely no guitar playing and that was just plain cruel. How’d he feel when I’d permit him to check out other girls? That’s what my Schecter’s and Les Paul’s were to me – my lovers. The links to my lost sanity.

So now I’m here, in Boston, it’s midnight and I’m flipping out of my mind. Gran had pissed me off with her stubborness, I wanted to poison myself with loads of nicotine and I missed my music. Oh and I had mixed feelings toward the pregnancy. I mean, I wanted it, I wanted a heir – someone who’d do great things, someone to cuddle and love, something no one could take away from, except Brian... But... I was scared. Like really fucking scared. I was twenty seven so it was about fucking time, right? But I just felt like my life has come to it’s end, that it’s done. This is it, now I’ll have to be a responsible adult and... quite frankly, I didn’t know how to do those things. I didn’t know how to take care of someone, how to be responsible, caring, everything a mother figure emits, ‘cause have you seen me? I’m still a fifteen year old in my head, I like to live my life fast and with a bang. Where have you seen a mother who just wants to... go to a fucking strip joint, have a beer and watch those naked chicks shake their ta-ta’s in my face. Until I met Brian I was pretty sure I won’t have kids, I didn’t want them – didn’t particularely like them – didn’t fucking need them. What the hell has that asshole done to me?

I reached for my phone to take from the night stand and searched up his number. I missed him. A lot. I’d never admit it, but he’d grown on me. I know I’m not the one to show my feelings, but if I like you, you don’t need my word for it, I’ll just stick around and bare with your shit. That’s how I show my affection. I pressed the phone to my ear, sliding deeper under the warm blanket, praying the bed wouldn’t come crashing down in the downstairs living room due to the addled floor boards.

„Hey...” I heard him sigh in frustration when he picked up. What no yelling?

„I miss you,” I whispered, something breaking inside me. A moment of silence. Come on, don’t do this, just... answer me.

„Yeah...” Another heavy sigh. Dude, don’t be a bitch and just say you miss me too! But no... nothing. My word, how the fuck dares he?!

„Come on...” Don’t make me beg...

„Look, I don’t know what do you want from me,” I could already see him running his slender fingers through those dark bangs. He always did that when he was either frustrated, confused, pissed or all together. „You bailed, Meg, I have no fucking idea where you are, you don’t answer when I call, Zee avoids to tell me shit and now you call me and tell me you miss me?”

Dad didn’t tell him? Why? I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, „I’m in Boston.”

Was this conversation really gonna be with those silent gaps of nothing after each and every of my replies? My hand rested on my stomach. It felt like it had grown a bit, but that could as well be my imagination. „Do I want to know what you’re doing there?”

„My gran lives here. I’m on a mission to get her to Huntington Beach.” Which by the way is not going according to the fucking plan. She promised she’ll shoot me if I try to get her to California, I mean, I don’t mind, but Brian would flip shit if he found out someone had tried to kill me.

„Why didn’t you tell me you’re going there? I would’ve gone with you.”

A sigh rolled over my lips, „I freaked out... with you... and Matt...”

„because of the fight or—„

„Everything. He can’t just say shit like that and you can’t just punch everyone who’s being nice to me,” Was that a chuckle right then? I’ll be damned, the guy was almost too easy.

„Relax, he doesn’t have a crush on you. He had a master plan with that, but I’m too tired of drowning myself in details at the moment.”

„Well... I don’t know if that comes as a relief, since I have a master plan of my own.”

„What did you do?”

„Uhmm... nothing?” Why does he always think I’ll do something outrageously stupid? Uhmm, hello? That’s not the case here. I’m trying to make two people ridiculously happy, if that’s against the law – sue me.

„Liar.” How was it possible that I could hear him smirk even over the telephone? Kinda started to freak me out how well I knew the guy.

„Okay, I called Alex. I gave her your number so you’ll have to be extremely nice to her and pick ‘er up from the airport.”

„You’re seriously not thinking about hooking them up,”

„Me? Of course not, I’m not even there, so you’ll have to do the honor.”

„Meg, no... Count me out of that shit, if Matt finds out – I’m dead. Like literally.”

„Such a pussy...”

„Thanks, I’d love some.”

„So the house isn’t full with random chicks?” As hard as it was to believe it, the other end of the conversation was escorted only by a silent replay of our last album. „What are you doing by the way?”

„Me? Just chillin’ with some bitches.” I smiled, picturing the mad house Lady must’ve created along with Pinkly knowing Brian can’t handle neither of them. „And missin’ you...” Thank you! Finally!

„I wanted to talk something over with you...”

„Yea?”

„We hadn’t really talked about the wedding. I’m getting fat really soon, so...”

„You want to do it now... while you’re still pregnant?”

„See that’s the problem. I don’t know. I mean we should get it over with before there’s someone who pukes all over my wedding dress.”

„There’s still gonna be someone who’ll puke all over it. You know dipshit can’t hold his liquor,” Okay, that made me laugh. „But I’m really down with whatever.”

„Cool, so start planning the wedding, dude.”

„Me?” Well, obviously, not me. I suck at those things and since he was the one to put a ring on me, he can have the honor.

„Well yea, I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment. Get Zacky to help, I know he loves this girly shit.”

„When are you coming home? I’m starving here... I even googled how long can one survive without food and I have to say I’ve only six days left. Six days, Meg...” Repeating the matter doesn’t soften my heart, dude. He knew that, he knew I didn’t have a heart. So what change did it make trying to play on my non-existent feelings? None what-so-ever.

„You know how to bake eggs, come on...”

„You can’t eat eggs for seven days straight!”

„Pick up Matt and go grab a burger or something,” I yawned, feeling almost too tired to keep my eyes open at this point, that’s why they already were shut and the phone was freely balancing on my ear.

„I don’t want a fucking burger! I want normal food!”

„Oh don’t be such a baby.”

„I want to eat... Come home and feed me.”

„You know what I want to answer to that, right?” A big fat ‘fuck you’.

„That you love me very much and you’ll do it?” I snorted. A bit too arrogant even for Brian Haner. Or is this Synyster Gates talking?

„How the hell did you manage before me?”

„Beats me, probably was married.” Oh right, I forgot he’s never been single for longer than a day. Stupid me.

„Okay, dude, order a pizza and pick up Alexis, I’m going to sleep.”

„’kay. Dream about me.”

„Not in a million years.”

„Love you.”

„Don’t push it.”

„Just say it...”

„No.” I could already reach out and fall into the comforting blackness of exhausted dreams, but no, he kept me pulling back whenever my mind was ready to slip away.

„Meg...”

„Goodnight, Haner.” I heard him sigh in frustration, which brought a smile on my face. He won’t live up to a day when I’m gonna say it out loud ever again, so he just had to deal with it. Once I said it, we broke up, not gonna say it again. I really didn’t get why he needed the approval to be said in words, he knew I loved him, why else would I be sticking with his stupid ass? It’s not like he was the most handsome, the most amazing man in the whole wide world. He was an arrogant dick with a sick sense of humor, but since the sex is amazing and he knows how to make me laugh – I’ll roll with it.

„One day...”

Alexis’ POV

If I have to fly ever again, I’m gonna kill someone. I’ll better take hundred different busses to get to the destination than get drunk from those mini-me drinks they serve on the plain just to shoo my fear of heights away. I swear the plain was sabotaged and we were gonna crash, so the fact that we landed in LAX kinda blew me away. Before I get on with the story, I’ll tell you all about the experience on that goddamn death machine.

First of all, it’s not clear to me how does it all work, maybe that’s the soil for my fear to grow on, but let’s be honest, do any of you know what’s the thing that makes that piece of metal raise in the air? A plane is practically a bus with wings. Bus's don’t fly! It weighs tons, come on, you’re just breaking physics right here! Eventually the physics will start fighting back and that’s when we’ll fucking crash. Secondly, I don’t know how to swim, so if we land on the water or we fall in the fucking ocean, I’m dead. So there’s really no lucky solution for me, I’m dead either way. Thirdly, who watches fucking Cast Away when being on the fucking plane? Well, obviously the dude sitting next to me. Can we just for a moment recall how the movie started? The motherfucking plane crashed! The dude was left on a completely isolated island, slowly going mad and having his only friend- the volleyball ball to highlight on his delirium.

So there I was, stuck with a terrorist of my sanity, wearing a dress that was too tight and annoying the shit out of me and emptying the supplies of those ridiculous mini liquor bottles. I thought the booze would help me deal with my fear and numb it a bit, but no. I simply got drunk and nearly puked all over the dude with the insane taste of movies. Then? When being on plane? I didn’t think that I need to leave a good fucking impression on Matt, I didn’t even remember him, I was fighting for my life, starting my prayers each time the plane hit an air bump. I don’t know how people do this and I don’t fucking care.

I was the first one at the door when the plane landed, running down the stairs... correction, stumbling down the stairs in my six inch heels, falling down and ripping a hole in my stockings until somebody helped me up. Probably flashed my ass too, but I didn’t care. You know what more I didn’t care about? Taking off the ripped stockings right then and there. I stuffed them in my bag, emptying the last bottle of Smirnoff while I managed my way through the airport, my heels in my hand and my mind left in Bismark.

At least I was smart enough to call Gates while I was still in Bismark, telling the time when I’ll land and to my own misfortune, it was an early morning here. And good ol’ Alexis was drunk off her ass. I couldn’t remember if I traveled with baggage and I needed to go to baggage claim or not. It was good I went there tho, because turned out I had a suitcase. Surprise, surprise...

My head was spinning, I was bare foot and trying to find Synyster Gates in the enormous sea of people. Oh look, I have another Smirnoff! Let’s just chug it down! Was this right? Matt’s previous girlfriend was in rehab for drinking and here I am, the person Meg wants to hook up with him – also drunk. And who the fuck even travels like this? In a tight dress and super comfortable pump heels, that is if they’re in the back of my closet and I’m looking at them.

„Okay...” I whispered to myself, trying to narrow my vision on anyone who at least reminded of someone who’s a cocky asshole. Where are you Gates? I’m not in a mood for hide and seek... What did he look like again? Oh right, that Dragonball Z character! No... He looked like that years ago... Think, Alexis, think. You saw him at Meg’s gig, which was ages ago and I kinda didn’t even look at him. I was too busy with getting to know Matt, if you know what I mean. Yea. A smirk appeared on my face. Those strong arms and that delicious mouth, that tall built and that dimpled smile. Look at that, isn’t that Matthew Sanders standing just five mere mortals away from me? And looking at me? With a frown...

Oh well. Let’s turn our sex-appeal on and charm the shit out of that guy. I took a deep breath and went up to Matt and then saw someone who didn’t remind me of Synyster Gates, like not one bit. I knew Synyster Gates, I met him years back and this cleanly shaved dude with a slicked back mohawk and eyeliner-less eyes? I’d say he’d gotten old if he really would’ve aged. His face was smooth, without wrinkles, but he wasn’t as jacked as back in the day. If i met him on a regular basis and he wouldn’t be covered in ink, I’d think he worked in some kind of an office.

„I’m here,” I announced, trying to look sober and not rock back and forth.

„Why didn’t you tell me Alexis is coming?” Matt didn’t even great me, but got straight to the point. Okay. So this time he won’t be easy? That kinda, really fucking sucks.

„I didn’t know. Meg told to pick up an old friend, that’s all I knew.” He lied, taking the suitcase from me. Whoa, since when he’s become all gallant and what not? Finally Matt turned to face me.

„Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” His eyes narrowed on my black toe nails. „Are you drunk?”

„Well...” You know that feeling when you try to sneak past your mom reeking of a vodka factory and being extremely underage, figuring you can hold your breath until you get to your room and she’ll never find out that you’d emptied a bottle all by yourself? Yeah, that’s the best case scenario. Usually she stops you and starts talking, forcing you to eventually open your mouth and puke all over her slippers. That’s what it felt like now, only instead of throwing up all over my mom’s slippers, I was about to throw up all over Matt’s sneakers.

„Careful Shads, princess over here doesn’t look too good,” Oh and there he was. Synyster Gates was still with us!

„Hold my shoes,” I shoved my pumps in Matt’s chest before emptying my stomach right there, on the tiled floor of LAX. Too much vodka...

Notes