My Fucking Nightmare

I called in a meeting at the studio for a follow-up of our last meeting in hopes that someone would bring forth some ideas for new material for our next album. I had several ideas scrapped together. Nothing special, but themes for a couple songs, a couple guitar riffs. Didn’t really feel inspired to compose lately, but there were four other guys in this band that could bring some stuff to light. Not wishing to imply that the others are horrible for thinking of new shit, but just that: the first few albums took fucking forever to get rolling.
Now, when the momentum picked up, I could guarantee that we all became this wicked hive mind that thought concepts and songs up with little to no effort. We definitely agreed on one thing for this album: I’d be singing, not screaming. It was relieving to say the least, since I tore some vocal chords a short while ago and had to go on recovery leave. Lots of disappointed fans, lots of lonely nights here in Los Angeles hoping for better days.
This time I called Phil, our manager, in hopes that he’d push us to fruition. I was nervous, since the deadlines were fucking stressful to make. This was our third go-around. We weren’t pros, but there were lots of people willing to help as much as we needed. Or, realistically speaking, that we could afford. I called Johnny and Zack first, knowing they’d be the least hesitant to hit up the studio. Next I called Jimmy, hoping he wasn’t balls deep in Jamie for the moment. He was reluctant, but finally agreed. I knew him enough to know he’d be the one to get us all in the groove to hammer shit out.
Last I called Brian. I saved him for the last because he and I hadn’t talked much since our last get together at Jim’s. I knew that since he announced he’d met someone I had become a little bit bitter. But it wasn’t his fault. I’d been dumped by my fiancée a year ago and never got any decent tail since then. Guess it was hard to be the only one besides Johnny who didn’t have anyone outside of the band to turn to.
I must have caught him at a bad time because our conversation was rushed, distracted in a way. My money was on him being with her at the time. I never bothered asking, but told him when to meet the rest of us and hung up. Had about an hour to ready myself for heading down to the studio so I shot back the last of my coffee and headed to the bathroom to strip out of my briefs and have a quick shower. Nothing special, just to soak some steam into my skin and wash away the bitter stink of cigarettes and booze. Most of my nights at home involved sitting on my deck watching the sun set over the city. Usually with a tall glass of beer in one hand, my phone in the other. Bishop, the hundred-fifty pound Rottweiler-mastiff cross, would often lay down beside me gnawing on a steak bone or a rawhide from his collection scattered in the yard.
Truth is, I missed the times before the band where my friends and I would always gather at the beach on a Sunday afternoon or have a barbecue in someone’s backyard. We had so many other friends too. And when fame kicked in, everyone backed off. Couldn’t keep up with our busy tour schedules or whatever bullshit excuse they had. For the sake of our private lives, we abandoned social networks. Meeting people meant going to bars or parties after shows. Mostly fans, and I wasn’t going to date a fan for the sake of some part of my life not being about my band or music. It’s not that it was annoying or overwhelming in any sense, but when it became our total livelihood, there had to be some other aspect of our lives. In a sort of complicated sense, I was desperate for something besides the fame and fortune we’d been gifted with.
I turned the water off and wrapped a towel around my waist and another around my neck for all the sweat from the steam. Bishop met me at the door, groaned for me to scratch behind his ears, and followed me to the bedroom where I pulled on some more briefs and a scraggy pair of jeans with a tank top and two of my gold chains for show. Would have been three, except one was from my ex-fiancée, and I tossed it into the ocean about a week after she moved out. Closure, I guess.
Bishop went out to piss and shit or whatever else he needed to do for a few minutes as I threw my jacket over my shoulders. The city was usually breezy up on the hill where I lived, but it was especially chillier today with the rain we had the night before. I whistled and called Bishop in again after lighting a cigarette. He trotted back into the house, following me through the house, and sat by the front door as I closed and locked it behind me. I started my truck and backed out of the drive, aggressively puffing on the cigarette, ripping down the road.
Traffic wasn’t too bad but some roads were full of mucky water. Fucking valley city couldn’t handle moderately heavy rain this time of year. Took a few minutes longer than usual to hit the studio parking lot, but as usual, I was the first one there. We had our own private office just off Torrance Boulevard, right on the waterfront. I waited for the others in the truck while it idled, listening to the radio and puffing on another cigarette. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too late; I wanted to get shit done for that sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t much, but I’d have a little more justification to have a few drinks on my deck later. Perhaps Brian would take a night away from his new lady friend and join me.
Vengeance was the next to pull up in his Tahoe, with Johnny in the passenger seat. They pulled up beside me with a familiar wave and turned off the engine. “How’s things, man?” Zack asked me, throwing a hand up for a fist-bump through our open windows.
I chucked the smouldering butt to a puddle on the ground and turned off my engine. “Not bad, how’re the family?”
“Kids had school today, Gina’s at work. Couldn’t have picked a better time.” Zack looked exhausted. As desperate as I was for a lady friend, I couldn’t see myself with kids. “Have the whole day to dogfuck. Any word about everyone else?”
I shook my head. “Nah, Brian sounded pretty busy so he might be a while. Jim’s probably on his way. Couldn’t tell you about Phil. Couldn’t care less, either. Just want to get some shit done today, feel me?”
“Yeah, last time was a fucking bust. Don’t worry, brother. I cooked some shit up a couple nights ago. Props to the gals down at Dom’s.” Johnny impulsively spent most of his time at Dominic’s Gentleman’s Club. Kid’s got the right idea, but it’s more of a compulsory thing lately than a casual weekly visit. He’s on a name basis down there. Can’t say I blame him, though. Some nice ladies with some nicer tits.
We all left our vehicles synchronously and headed for the locked door of the studio. Usually there’d be a couple studio techs to accompany us, but recording today would probably be basic shit. All our equipment was ready to go once we turned on the lights and powered up the computers. Just as I was getting some mikes set up, Phil and Jimmy waltzed in and hopped to it. I gave an acknowledging nod and continued to finish setting up. Tried not to let Brian being late bother me too much.
A good ten, maybe twenty minutes in, Brian arrived, his hair in a total mess, his clothes all tattered. He had this one-of-a-kind look on his face that gave everything away. Well, if it wasn’t for the gigantic fucking hickey on his collarbone. “Look who decided to show up.” Jimmy teased, grasping hands with Brian. I rolled my eyes and looked away.
“Yeah, sorry I’m a little late. Couldn’t find my keys.”
“Have a good night?” I heard Johnny ask. Tried to keep biting my tongue. “Hell yeah, you did. She any good?”
Over Jimmy’s raucous laughter, Brian beamed through his own shroud of muffled giggling, “Oh, the best.” They all hooted and jabbered on about the event of Brian finally getting laid, something to which I couldn’t hide the bitterness anymore out of spite of being one of his best friends, so instead I joined the boisterous clamouring and badgering like a group of boy scouts would. “Guys, I think I love her.”
“Oh, Bri, you’re saying that now. Give it a couple weeks.” Zack bolted with an ironic kind of tone, pulling Brian into a headlock. With the height difference between them, one might say it was impossible, but Zack held him down. I’ll admit I laughed. “She might be cute but the sex will get old.”
“Nah, Vengeance. She’s not all about that. More like…flowers and nice walks. All that tender bullshit that none of you bastards has the time for. Oh, Shads! I have something for you. A gift from her.”
“Your virginity?” I jeered, expecting a blow to the shoulder. He dug into his pants pocket and pulled something out, but proceeded to flash me the finger before passing it to me. A small piece of paper with a number on it. “What’s this?”
He scratched his head, reaching for his guitar on the stand beside Zack’s. “Her cute roommate. Name’s Harriet. You’d like her.”
“Fan girl?” I asked, hoping for the latter. Brian nodded yes, and I let a scoff escape my mouth.
He strummed a couple chords before reaching for my shoulder and squeezing it. “You can’t always discriminate against fan girls, man. Just because Rain was a diehard, doesn’t mean you’ll have the same outcome.”
“Hey Brian, how come you’re not dating a diehard, hmm?” I retorted, hoping to sound a little less passive-aggressive and a little more jokesy. “Where’s your logic there, dude?”
“I never said she wasn’t a fan. I only said she’s not gonna faint and cry when she meets the rest of you.” Alright, well at least she would be familiar with our names. “Perhaps one of these nights we could go down to our spot for some beers. Have a good, social night. Whip Johnny’s ass at pool. You know, the usual, but plus one.”
We all agreed to the likes of the idea, and quickly changed the subject back to composition. “Alright, so I was thinking about a couple themes.” Johnny blurted out, taking a seat on one of the studio’s many stools. “Virgins. Lots of virgins. Kind of like a demon ritual thing, right? But really focus on the babes. Have like, a demon running sort of a brothel kind of deal, but it’s gotta be like a hell on earth thing. Cuz it’ll captivate the souls of men being led astray.”
We unanimously agreed to run with it, but with some alterations. Jimmy piped up and added a couple details. “Well, let’s get a theme going. This album’s gotta be chaotic. And different from the other albums we’ve done so far. Get a whole new tone out into the open. Matt’s not screaming anymore.”
“Okay, bottom line, this will be your new image. Is that what you’re suggesting?” Phil asked.
“Yeah, this will be the real image of Avenged Sevenfold, man. Get away from all that other shit. All that darkness. Bring forth a different light.” Jim was a fucking mastermind, man. “Let’s roll on demons and epic shit.”
Brian was casually strumming out some stuff, nothing really worth holding onto. It was almost magical sometimes when he’d hit that right chord and the ideas would come spewing out of him. “Western overtones, what do you think? Wild West bullshit. Think…think of blistering heat, snakes, fucking scorpions. And an oasis right in the middle of it. A fucking trap full of death and disaster, like a mirage. Pump in those little virgins, the demon king.”
So, pretty soon we had some decent ideas floating around. Some solid song themes. My love for snakes and everything reptilian came out into play. We weren’t really sure what to make of it at first. For us, we usually wrote lyrics before deciding on the music part. Jimmy was fucking prime at throwing word vomit together, so he and I would be beating the shit out of that horse for a while. Brian and Zack would work on the music bit with Johnny. Jimmy could just fill the beats in with whatever the fuck he wanted. God, it was magical when everything started flowing. By the end of the day we wrapped with a pretty good demo. We all took a copy home to listen to and beat out any flaws. Think of it as homework, or side projects. Hopefully the rest of the album would flow along with it.
Zack and Johnny skipped out before the rest of us did, as did Phil shortly after he congratulated us on our progress. Wasn’t much, but any start was something worth being proud of. The whole not-screaming thing was a little different, but so much easier on my throat. It was exciting nonetheless. “So, you gonna call Harriet?” Brian asked me, his face beaming with a smile I wasn’t sure I recognized. Hadn’t seen him this happy before. “She’s like you. Melissa says lots of good stuff about her. She just got over a bad breakup apparently, but you’ve been grieving for Rain for a while, so…”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Well, I don’t know. Don’t you think it would be weird?”
“Not really, I mean they’re close, we’re close. None of us are related. It’s like mutual dating, happens all the time. I think she’s totally your type.”
“You don’t even know my type. Haven’t dated since Rain.”
He shook his head and scoffed. “That’s nuts, man. Serious though. I think it would do you some good to see someone. Get out of your house, go to a movie or to dinner. If it gets really bad we could go on a couples date.”
I rolled my eyes. “You seem way too excited about all this. Probably just the pussy in your brain, man. Getting you all confused.”
“It’s a better feeling than despair. Who knows, if you got lucky you might just feel the way I’m feeling right now.”
Jimmy jumped into our conversation and hung around both of our necks. “Neither of you are going to succeed at this whole relationship thing if you don’t separate it from your work. Matt, go home, call the girl, and go for coffee. Brian, call your girl, and go for a coffee. Don’t fucking talk about our shit. Don’t think about our shit. Matt, you’re so high-strung lately with this album that you haven’t been relaxing like you really should. Go get that pussy, man. Destroy that pussy. Get some, brother.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about your sex life, James.”
“Oh, I’m drowning in pussy. Better believe it.”
Brian and I laughed and packed the remainder of shit back up into crates and stocked it away. Jimmy met us at the exit door and switched off the lights. I locked the door again behind us and lit up another smoke I’d been itching about for hours. “Fine, I’ll call the girl.” I said with a sigh, bracing myself for a barrage of pummeling on my back and shoulder.
“Fuck yeah, you will. Let me know how it goes.” Brian yelled over the other side of my truck as he climbed into his. I slammed my door, waved bye to Jimmy, flipped Brian off, and shot down the road to go back home for the evening.

Notes