Dice’s POV

I must confess, the feeling of someone writing a song about you was kinda great, knowing I didn’t neceserilly listen to their band. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely loved Jimmy’s sick drums and that raspy voice of Matt’s, but something just threw me extremely off every time when their songs came on the radio, either someone put them on the jukebox back at the bar. The truth was, they had everything I fucking loved put in their tracks, but somehow for me it just felt wrong to mix those heavy riffs, with some major licks, but then again, what do I know about music? Nobody forced me to listen to their songs, other than when Jimmy was too hyped about the recording and really dragged me to the studio. However I liked Avenged Sevenfold as an item, not necessarily the sound they’re creating, but just how down to earth they were. Since I was nowhere near to being down to earth after his lips had touched me.

What happened in my head right then was only describable as cute baby pandas making chocolate puddings for the poor Africans and me simply getting high of marijuana while I’m floating through the cloud nine, looking down on the view. That’s how Matt’s lips made me feel, and shoot me dead if that right there isn’t happiness.

...knowing I look like a Quasimodo. But that’s off the point, what was on point was his phone killing my buzz by going off. You have to understand a few things about me, first – I don’t care if that’s the president who’s calling him, he has no right to answer the call while I’ve got the urge to jump him, second? I’m a professional asshole. And I fucking admit it. It’s not like I piss off people just for the fun of it, nah, that’s for teenagers who go true puberty. I consider it as my full time job, that’s how deep I’m into it. And Johnny’s, hell that’s just something I do. What I really earn money with is being a fucking asshole, and believe it or not, that get’s the fucking job done. Can you imagine going to a bar where the bartender is very rude to you and leaving him a tip? No? Well you fucking will, I guarantee you that, ‘cause : a) the bartender’s hot, b) the bartender’s hot. If the bartender’s not hot, he’s not the fucking bartender! I’m telling this why...

‘Cause at the same moment when Matt pulled away to answer the phone in his most ass-licking voice, the switch of me getting to my full time job flipped on. Right when he pressed the ‘answer’ key I couldn’t give two shits about him writing a song about me, or making sure I don’t die overnight ‘cause I’m a stupid piece of shit and the only thing I do is get into trouble.

Sure he gave me an apologetic look before he excused himself to have that conversation on the patio, so what I did in the mean time besides smoking my cigarette in less than half a minute, I took the pen and draw a humongous dick on the white page, adding some lines for the body with arms and legs, before writing and pointing out that’s M. Shadows.

He smiled into the conversation as he walked around the patio, giving me a look or two. Fucking dick. News came up on the tv about the US troops in Iraq. I couldn’t believe they were actually fighting so people like Matt Sanders, Syn Gates and even myself could be fucking assholes and not worry our pretty little heads about whatever is happening around the world.

So how does it feel to know that someone's kid in the heart of America has blood on their hands, fighting to defend your rights, so you can maintain a lifestyle that insults his family's existence???

After putting the dot under the third question mark, nearly ripping a whole in the page, I dropped the pen over the counter to see Matt come in with a guilty smile on his lips. His strong hand cupped the side of my face, raising it up. Punch him now or later?

„I have to go, Dice...” He said silently. What made me want to punch him even more was the fact that he slid that naughty tongue over his lower lip and the dark lust in his eyes. Was there a point in saying something even when I knew where exactly he’s going? „Are you gonna be okay?”

Me? Sure. However my core which was burning up and by then practically on fire – not. Oh, I’m gonna make him suffer, mark my fucking words. I pulled away, his hand dropping by his side after a loud sigh. „I think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”

„I haven’t,” He replied with a straight face, his hands disappearing in his pockets. I just rolled my eyes.

„Well, obviously, I’m batman, so I’ll be fucking fine. I know you have some important business to attend at two fucking am,” I’ll just sit here, bored off my ass and watch every fucking season of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, but he didn’t need to know that. „And don’t forget your diary,”

That pointed stare of his was really burning a hole in me, and to think I was cranky when I was someone’s booty call in the middle of a night. I thought it was just a thing for me, guys were happy when they got a call for a good lay, right? Or maybe it was just me who pissed him off. Well, I ain’t gonna apologize for that, so suck it up. „Why are you like this?”

Hmm? „Like what?”

„I’m trying, okay?” And again, what the hell was he talking about? „I’m trying my best to get us where we were before, but you keep fucking pushing me away!”

„Where we were before?” I questioned, an amused smile on my face, „Sanders, before I was the bartender you simply fucked, not whatever this is...” I pointed towards the food and well him simply being here. „And frankly I don’t want to fuck you anymore...”

„So you’re saying we’re done?” stop confusing me with your questions, Matt fucking Sanders! It’s hard enough lying to you as it is!

„More than undone,” I mused before even I could think about what was about to roll over my lips. That left him gaping at me. Well... yea. This is the professional asshole’ism I was telling you about. „However I am thankful for everything you’ve done for me.”

He came frighteningly close to me, his jaw clenched, his glare pointed, before his hand took me by the back of my neck and his lips crashed down against mine. Oh jesus fucking christ... I moaned against his lips, trying my best to keep my arms against my sides and not scavenging his body and those deceitful lips of kissing him back. I let out a surprised gasp when I felt his fingers pressing on my core through the fabric of the onesie, yet I was fighting my best to stand still and not respond to him and just hope he couldn’t feel how wet I was.

„You mean to tell me you feel absolutely nothing,” He breathed just an inch from my face. Other than your fingers on my clit, and the butterflies inside the pit of my stomach? Get a fucking grip of yourself, Dice! My hand wrapped around his wrist and moved away from my core.

„Absolutely fucking nothing,” I spat angry, more than at myself for being such a bitch, but what can you do? He frowned, clear disbelief mirroring in his face. I stepped back, before turning to go upstairs, praying he won’t follow me, „Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

Brian’s POV

You know what I understood while spending this large amount of time at bars? The excuse – whiskey made me do it, is not really a legitimate one and vodka mixes well with everything, but decisions. At one point I couldn’t stand the knowing smirk Michelle was sending me as if saying all the choices I made were egocentric as fuck and I was a failure. Yea, she said that to me before, like with real and loud yelling. I couldn’t stand being in her company any longer. I wasn’t sure what she was playing at, but I wasn’t gonna be around long enough to find out. I had to leave while there was a bit of blood left in my veins instead of pure and stiff liquor and get the fuck out.

With that the adventures of Synyster Gates started.

Where had I been? The proper question would be - where hadn’t I been? At the time it seemed like a very fucking good idea to walk ‘round the corner to that nightclub, whatever it’s called, so I had some kinda pink girl shots there, because a chick I’ve slept with some time ago, spotted me as soon as I walked in. It was needless to say I wasn’t too sober when I accepted the challenge of that fucking death row of shots. I wasn’t stupid, I knew what she wanted and I was too confused to say ‘no’.

Confused? Because I didn’t understand what I felt towards MJ! Maybe she had a magical vagina that just sucked me in, I don’t know! What I knew I was about to fuck the shit out of the chick with those long legs. As she dragged me outside the club and in the dark alleyway, I had a serious eyeful of that cleavage. The shirt was very low cut. Just then I noticed I was still holding a glass of... what the hell is this shit? The glass was medium sized with a neon green liquid inside that tasted like gummy bears. I kid you not. No wonder why my sister came here, they served kiddy drinks! Oh god, I hope this chick is not McKenna’s friend... I hope this was the chick who was around my age...

„It’s been a long time baby,” She murmured, trailing her plump lips down my neck as I shotgunned the drink. I hoped I won’t remember any of this, otherwise I’d feel like shit. As for now? I felt fairly good about myself, I mean, call me a dick or whatever, but that’s pretty fucking impressive to get a chick in less than five minutes, don’t you think? Besides this Heather, Hailey, what the hell her name is has some killer legs.

The glass landed on the glass container with a mild thud and it was only a second before I took her face and our lips connected in an almost painful kiss. The fun fact about me besides being a huge dick, I can drink a barrel of liquor and still look fairly sober before I pass out under a table or something. So... khemm... I may or may not knocked that chick up with a child just then, ‘cause I lost a certain frame of the picture and regained only when I was buckling my belt and she had pressed a sloppy kiss on my cheek. Of course, it’s all fun and games while I’m joking about it.

I shook my head, still a smirk on my lips as I stepped out in the light of the lantern. Nah, she looked smart, besides she left me just now, so obviously it’s just a quick let’s-fuck-the-rockstar kinda thing. Got to love the Californian girls, man.

Just when I turned around the corner to walk back to Johnny’s I realized how reasonably drunk I was. Reasonably? Did I say reasonably? Hell, I was questioning how I was still standing. There was still this sweet taste of the green drink and the Heather chick on my lips. I wouldn’t say Synyster Gates wasn’t grinning like an idiot on the morning of Christmas, as for Brian Haner? He just lost his head over the scene building in front of him. What the hell did that tuxedo douche think he was doing?! She was mine!

„She’s taken, back off,” I growled, taking MJ by hand and pulling under my arm. It just took the dude to look in my eyes to see I wasn’t fucking joking with the tone of my voice. He just held his hands up and backed away. I felt MJ shiver under my touch as my hand slid lower and lower and I could swear if I had finished that shot I left earlier on the counter, not being able to get the sweet liquid down my throat, before the chick dragged me outside, I’d be the one to drag MJ in the dark alley. „What are you doing to me?” I breathed, brushing her silky blond hair away and kissing her neck.

„Where have you been all night?” She leaned back against me and even tho I was just a shot away from getting in a horizontal position and make some sweet love to the ground, somewhere through the spinning madness that was happening inside my head, I realized I can’t just fuck her here. And correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t she working tonight?

„Aren’t you supposed to get back?” I whispered against her soft skin, not really even understanding what the hell I’m doing. I just knew I was really fucking turned on... again... she smelt like I was about to fuck her and the next thing I know I’m standing in front of Matt, trying to figure where MJ went, or maybe I had dreamed it?

„Gates I don’t know what to do... You have to help me,” Uhmm, what? Where the fuck’s MJ?! The parking lot was full of people and it seemed to be about closing time. The only thing I could do was frown confusedly as I fixed or at least tried to fix my attention on Matt.

„I’ll be dead honest with you Shads,” was he smoking? Hell, I want too! Where are my smokes? „I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll help with whatever the fuck, man, just help me find a smoke?”

„here,” He held out his freshly lit cigarette which I gladly accepted, „is that fucking lipstick on your neck?”

„Huh?” I frowned, before Shads took my hand and brushed against my neck. Right now I was watching over crimson fingertips. „Shit...” I mouthed, attempting to clean my skin off the red paint, before MJ had seen it, or... fuck, did she notice it earlier? It was dark, right? And I was standing behind her, there’s no way— wait that Heather girl wasn’t wearing lipstick...

„Did you fuck Michelle?” Matt came closer, hissing in my face. Michelle? Goddammit, she was... nah, if I’d fuck her, I’d wake up in one bed with her. I think...

„Uhmm... Although I am wasted, I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen,”

„What didn’t happen?” I swear by then I was rocking back and forth. A moronic smile took over my face once I spotted MJ coming to us, but she wasn’t smiling.

„Nothing,” I replied, but she just turned to Matt,

„I just asked if he did those crazy dirty echo shots,” I fucking own him my life, I could fucking kiss him! Which I did, by the way. I swayed forward and cupped his face, pressing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

„I fucking love you, man,”

„Yeah, likewise, buddy,” Matt chuckled and I stepped back, nearly falling over, before MJ came and wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

„Are you done with the night?” I looked down on her, tapping the tip of her small nose with a drunk smile plastered on my face.

„Yea, Max offered to close the bar,” She explained, snaking her arm around my waist.

„Then let’s go home... I wan’t to go home... can we go home... please?” I swear I nearly fell asleep right then and there.

„Will you handle him, MJ?” I heard Matt ask, „I’ve already got a drunk Jimmy and Val on my arms,”

„Y-yea,” She breathed, fixing me up straight once my legs gave in and I nearly dropped to my knees. „Bri, give me the keys...”

Just then I realized I was walking, but my eyes were closed. I crashed against what I supposed to be my car, triggering the alarm, but not even that was annoying enough to get me moving. „Pocket...” I murmured, leaning against the car and just a moment later the alarm stopped. Thank god, I think I was getting a headache.

„What the hell is this, Brian?”

Notes