High Voltage

„Hills, wake up...” Someone was tugging on my leg and suddenly I realized my bed is too hard to sleep on and only god knows where’s my pillow. As I was slowly starting to come off my dreamless peace land, I heard a silent track of Pantera playing in the background. I rolled to my side, just to hear my leather jacket quirking due to the movement and my face rubbing against a velvety surface. Urgh... I felt drool all over my cheek. „Meeeg...” Someone singed out and was that a cash register closing I heard?

I opened my eyes and instantly a frown pulled over my face as I sat up. I blinked a couple of times, not really getting the picture of how I wound up at Johnny’s and why the fuck was I sleeping on the pool table?

Monk, the cool and tattooed bartender, who had a tendency of refilling my glasses for free a few times too many, was counting dollar bills behind the counter while Keith was siting by the bar, emptying a beer. Besides those two, the place was empty.

„What the fuck happened?” I wiped the surface of my palm against my cheek. Keith looked back at me with a smirk.

„Look at that, she’s alive,” His words made Monk look up and let out a light chuckle, seeing how I was so lost I could as well believe we were in 2050s or something. I really had no memories of how the hell I got from Matt’s to Johnny’s.

„Good morning, sunshine,” Monk smirked, reaching out for a glass under the bar.

„Morning?” Was it... morning?

„Yeah, nine am.” Keith replied, taking a mouthful from his bottle. Shiiit... I pulled my hand over my face, having no memories of the last night after Matt’s and Brian’s fight.

„Can someone tell me how the fuck did I even get here?” I got off the pool table and went up to the bar to take the carbonated water Monk had poured in the glass. It felt like the grand canyon was more moist than my throat at the moment.

„Don’t know about that,” Monk replied, getting back to counting the money, „However you told you’re having a bad decade and ordered ten dirty echo’s.”

„Did I even pay for them?” Knowing how I didn’t have my wallet on me. Well, it’s no wonder I don’t remember anything after those shots, but why I don’t remember anything before them – that’s one hell of a mistery to me.

„Yeah, like you ever...” Monk chuckled, „Anyhow, you passed out after your fourth one.”

„On the pool table?” I frowned, „Why didn’t you guys call a cab for me? Or someone to pick me up?”

Keith shrugged, „Not the first time you crash here.”

„Besides, the bar was empty and the only ones left were the staff,” Monk added. Oh jeez... Even tho I knew each and everyone of Johnny’s staff, I still couldn’t bare, but feel slightly embarrased.

„Did I come here alone?”

„No.” Monk stuffed the money in a plastic pocket, „You were with Zack and Gates. Me and Keith here even had a bet going who’d be the first to pass out – you or Syn,”

„He was here?” I exclaimed. What the fuck was he doing here? Last thing I remember he was fighting off Matt just because he had invited me to his barbeque party, so what the actual hell?

„Yeah, but left shortly after you started dancing on the bar.” Keith snickered. Oh jeez... Oh god... This can’t be true...

„Okay... so, I owe you something, guys?” My fingers anxiously slid through my messy hair as I emptied my glass, before looking at each of them. Monk shook his head, filling in the incomings journal. „Okay, cool,” I patted the counter, before pushing myself off it and going for the exit.

„Hey, Hills?” I heard Keith shout as soon as I was about to get through the black curtains that shielded me from the door.

„Yea?”

„Go easy on the liquor. God knows you can hold your booze, but, dude, take it a peg down, ‘kay?” Seriously? Even a bartender was giving me a heads up about my little drinking problem? And I thought I was their best customer... Correction – would be – if I actually payed for the shit that I poisoned myself with.

„Yeah, yeah. Bye guys.”

As soon as I stepped out in that ridiculous heat of Huntington Beach’s morning sun, I couldn’t really miss that I kinda didn’t belong in the scenery of tanned girls and surfer dudes. As I reached for my shades which had been hooked behind my collar, I realized the only scenery I’d belong probably would be hell... Or some god forgotten cage in the middle of nowhere. I sighed, before pulling out my cigarettes.

As I managed my way across the parking lot, I got nearly hit by a car or two while I was struggling with lighting my smoke. Jesus H. Macy... This rush, these mornings, they weren’t for me. I mean – where’s the fucking fire, you guys? Other than on me, ‘cause it really felt like I was burning, but I was too exhausted to put any effort in taking off my jacket.

This clearly wasn’t one of those mornings where I wanted to ride a flying pony down the rainbow. My head was pounding, the heat made me sick and I had only a single cigarette on me once I pulled up to the front door of my dad’s house. I had no idea what was the day or what was I supposed to do. Only when I nearly broke my arm, trying to get through a locked door, I realized if I had an actual job, I’d be fired by now.

For a moment I struggled with unlocking the door, but somehow I managed to get in even tho I wasn’t using the right key to start with. Dad should really change the lock, anyone could get the fuck in! But I figured something else once I opened the door – it hadn’t been locked in the first place, since I nearly crashed into a Synyster Gates once I opened the door. He had a guitar case in his hand and my pioneer pedal with Marshall amp by his feet. „Is this were I call 911, because I kinda think I’m being robbed,” I frowned, slamming the door, bringing his attention to me. „How the fuck did you get in?”

„Zee gave me his key to pick up some stuff,” He explained eying me with a frown as I lost my leather jacket and realized my right forearm, the one which is without tattoo’s was covered all in bruises and scratch marks, „What the hell happened to you?”

„That” I pointed to whatever the hell he was talking about, „Is none of your fucking business.” I said as my eyes trailed over my bruises and scratch marks. What the hell? Did I fight someone last night?

I walked up to the mirror and took off my shades. „Oh my god...” I gasped on the reflection. I definitely got in a fight yesterday. I had a fucking black eye!

I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. When did I turn into... this? This broken reflection which I saw in the mirror? I pinched the bridge of my nose since the thing that I saw really threw me over the edge. „Hills, what the hell is going on with you?” I heard the boards creek under his feet as he moved around the room.

„Since when do you care?” Why wasn’t he as miserable as me? He had been more wasted than me! Why was I drowning myself in self pity and the misery my life happened to be?

„I don’t.” He replied sternly. Oh great, then why the fuck do you even ask? I moved away from the mirror and walked past him on my way to the kitchen. „But your dad does...”

„My dad’s too busy to even notice me around,” I mouthed, opening the top counter in search of an advil or some other ibuprofen drug to ease off my hangover.

„That’s not true.” If I wouldn’t be so tired, I’d kick that bullshit concern out of his voice. He had no right to be concerned, since he was the one to lead me here. My eyes scanned the drug supplies in search of something strong. Fuck, we’re out of advil... That’s just... fantastic. I sighed, grabbing a hold of the marble surface once I felt my head starting to spin like a fucking merry-go-round.

„I don’t need your fucking pitty, Haner.” I hissed, leaning over the counter and boosting my head in my hand, „Just take whatever shit you need and leave...”

„You really shouldn’t carry on like this...”

„Stop!” I shouted in my hands, „Just... fucking stop...please,” To my surprise, he didn’t say anything. I looked up from the counter to see him standing still and gazing over me, confused. „Look, you have a gorgeous girlfriend, you’re recording some new next gen shit, it’s obvious you’ve carried on, but I’ve not...”

„Meg, that’s not—„

„No, let me finish,” Hell, I’d be damned if I admitted I was over that handsome face. For every day of the last half an year I had thought about him, I dreamed to lay in his arms once again... I had fucking nightmares about our unborn child. It was a great day when I had a dreamless sleep. The one I usually got after large amounts of liquor and drugs. I couldn’t get over it and I strongly believed – I’ll never will. „You fucking ruined my life, don’t you get that?” I felt a tear slide down my cheek.

Finally he had no witty remarks to throw in my face, instead he just stood there and faced me with an apologetic look. Sorry, no apology would cut for the shit I’m going through. „You ran away... How could you?”

„I didn’t have a choice,”

„You didn’t have a choice? You didn’t have a fucking choice...” I laughed out. I was just a step away from falling into hysteria and he just stood there telling me he didn’t have a fucking choice. „I didn’t have a fucking choice! You did... And you choose to run... When I was in the hospital, did you even think about coming and asking how was I feeling?”

„Of course I—„

„Stop lying to me!” I screamed. „You think I don’t know? You think people didn’t tell me how you were screwing every chick at Johnny’s, while I was waiting for the fucking D&C!”

„Stop talking like it was hard only on you!” Finally he screamed back, before realizing what he’d done. He continued in a more calmer manner, „Look, I’m sorry for what I did to you, but I can’t change the past.”

„And what would’ve you done if I'd given birth to the child? Cheated on me for myself and the baby?”

„You don't know what you're talking about.” Oh? Is that so?

„Oh cut the bullshit, we both know you’re a cheating bastard and there’s no changing it.” Did he really look hurt? Come on, people, I’m not discovering new America over here!

„So I’m a cheating bastard... Thank you, Meg.”

„Don’t play the fucking victim, Brian! Don’t pretend like you didn’t cheat on me while I was in the hospital!”

„As hard as it is to believe it – no, I didn’t.”

„Liar!” I screamed, taking the vase with roses from the kitchen island and throwing at him. He dodged in the very last second.

„Are you fucking crazy?”

„Get the fuck out of my house!” I yelled through tears. Damn you Brian Haner, damn you...

Notes

I hadn't planned on this story to be so full of drama and sadness, but as I said somewhere before, I don't control the plot really. My characters control it. I can start writing a chapter with one idea, but in the end it goes in a fully different way. So... I just hope you can enjoy this all.

And thank you for all the feedback!