Thick and Thin
Introduction: Your Betrayal
As your eyes start to blister, there's just no hope for
our final embrace.
So here we are.
I'm in your head, I'm in your heart!
You were told to run away,
Soak the place and light the flame.
Pay the price for your betrayal,
Your betrayal, your betrayal!
I was told to stay away,
Those two words I can't obey.
Pay the price for your betrayal,
Your betrayal, your betrayal!
- Bullet For My Valentine
Brian Haner, Jr. sat in a backstage dressing room with his best friends, delicately applying the signature black eyeliner that immediately transformed him into Synyster Gates, the persona he undertook every time he strapped on his custom Schecter guitar and took to the stage. It was a name that originated when the now thirty-three year old was still attending Huntington Beach High School in his home state of California, a place near and dear to each band member's heart. Brian had spent another evening drinking a couple of forty-ounce bottles of malt liquor with James Sullivan, his best friend in the entire world. The pair had decided to take a drunken drive through a local park, where Brian rolled down his window, and with a refreshing breeze blowing through his long, thick, dark hair and not a care in the world, screamed "MY NAME IS SYNYSTER GATES AND I'M FUCKING AWESOME!" When he finally agreed to join Avenged Sevenfold a few years later, the name stuck.
"Bri? BRIAN!" "Huh?" Brian snapped back to reality, realizing he had been smiling stupidly the entire time. "Uh, your phone? It's ringing." Brian looked up at Zachary Baker, another of his best friends and fellow guitarist in the band. Zack was about two inches shorter than Brian, with jet black hair that was slicked back in the middle and trimmed slightly shorter on each side. He had perfectly arched eyebrows, sun-kissed skin, and bright green eyes that shone like emeralds. Two tiny holes were barely visible on each end of his plump lips, where cold metal hoops once occupied his snakebite piercings. "Oh...right. Thanks, Zacky." Zacky Vengeance was a name the rhythm guitarist gave to himself, almost as a spit in the face to all the people who doubted his potential in high school. Zack was also responsible for bassist Jonathan Seward's stage name, Johnny Christ, feeling it suited the short, mohawked man well and also hoping to piss a few people off in the process. Singer Matthew Sanders called himself M. Shadows, being a dark character who often wore black eye makeup and clothes, covered himself in tattoos and piercings, and belted out gritty growls and screams. He had toned down his wild side considerably over the years, but Matt still preferred the name. Jimmy, Avenged Sevenfold's deceased drummer, called himself "The Reverend Tholomew Plague," later shortened to "The Reverend" or just "The Rev." No one ever understood the name, but then again, no one ever really understood Jimmy. He was crazy in his own beautiful way, childlike even. They all loved him for it too. Jimmy was everyone's best friend. Even Arin Ilejay, the band's current drummer, refers to Jimmy as his hero and "favorite drummer ever." Arin didn't really have a nickname, but the guys called him "Kid" for being twenty-seven years old. There really wasn't that much of an age difference though. In fact, Arin was only three years younger than Johnny, but it was always fun to pick on the new guy and Arin didn't seem to mind.
"Could you get that?" Brian asked casually as he tossed his phone to Jason Berry, the long time drum technician and good friend of the band. Matt Berry, Jason's twin brother, shrugged his shoulders before sitting on the brown, grossly stained couch and tuning Johnny's bass. "Hello?" Jason said into the speaker exasperatedly. "Hey, Brooke. The guys are getting ready for the big show in Denmark tonight. Can he call you back later?" Brian stopped applying his eyeliner and rolled his mocha brown eyes. He most definitely would not be calling Brooke back. "Alright. Bye." Jason hung up the phone and gave Brian the look of a disappointed parent. "Don't," Brian snapped at him. He wasn't in the mood to be lectured about how he needed to make more of an effort for Jimmy's cousin. He knew perfectly well that what they were doing was wrong and that they were breaking a promise to Jimmy that they would take care of her, but interacting with Brooke was simply too painful. Brian took his phone from a silent, glaring Jason and pushed passed him.
***
"SEVENFOLD! SEVENFOLD! SEVENFOLD!" The Denmark crowd was loud and ready, with the band equally as excited. Matt, Zack, Brian, Johnny, and Arin stood in a circle off the side of the stage with Jason, Matt, and Dan Abell. Dan was a well-built man with dark brown hair and a perfect tan that could only come from the hot California sun. He was leading the group in a fist pump, screaming at them as if he were a drill sergeant and this was boot camp.
"ARE YOU GONNA KICK SOME ASS TONIGHT?"
"YEAH!"
"YOU GONNA SHOW THESE KIDS WHAT YOU GOT?"
"YEAH!"
"YOU READY TO HAVE FUN OUT THERE?"
"FUCK YEAH!"
"WHO ARE WE?"
"A-SEVEN-X!"
The band erupted in screams as they broke the circle, each taking turns to touch Johnny's mile-high mohawk. Arin bent down and played a simple rhythm with his drumsticks on the floor, the same beat that Jimmy always played right before a show. The band had been practicing the same pre-show rituals since their very first show in 1999, minus the mohawk thing since Johnny wasn't yet a member, and absolutely had to do these things before every performance, no matter how silly some of them were. Jason Berry gave them each a good slap on the ass as they walked onstage, another must-have before every gig. Matt was the last to walk out, carrying a water bottle and taking exactly seven steps before spitting a mouthful of water straight into the air. The band began to play "Beast and the Harlot," always a hit among the rowdy crowd. Brian jumped up on one of the three black boxes that lined the front of the stage, playing his pinstriped mahogany guitar at a blindingly fast pace and already sweating under the white spotlight. While Synyster Gates lived out his dream in front of thousands of drooling girls all chanting his name, he couldn't help but think of the one girl that had always cheered him on - the girl whose support meant more to him than all of his fans combined. And, unfortunately for Brian, the girl that was on the other side of the world hating his guts right now.
our final embrace.
So here we are.
I'm in your head, I'm in your heart!
You were told to run away,
Soak the place and light the flame.
Pay the price for your betrayal,
Your betrayal, your betrayal!
I was told to stay away,
Those two words I can't obey.
Pay the price for your betrayal,
Your betrayal, your betrayal!
- Bullet For My Valentine
Brian Haner, Jr. sat in a backstage dressing room with his best friends, delicately applying the signature black eyeliner that immediately transformed him into Synyster Gates, the persona he undertook every time he strapped on his custom Schecter guitar and took to the stage. It was a name that originated when the now thirty-three year old was still attending Huntington Beach High School in his home state of California, a place near and dear to each band member's heart. Brian had spent another evening drinking a couple of forty-ounce bottles of malt liquor with James Sullivan, his best friend in the entire world. The pair had decided to take a drunken drive through a local park, where Brian rolled down his window, and with a refreshing breeze blowing through his long, thick, dark hair and not a care in the world, screamed "MY NAME IS SYNYSTER GATES AND I'M FUCKING AWESOME!" When he finally agreed to join Avenged Sevenfold a few years later, the name stuck.
"Bri? BRIAN!" "Huh?" Brian snapped back to reality, realizing he had been smiling stupidly the entire time. "Uh, your phone? It's ringing." Brian looked up at Zachary Baker, another of his best friends and fellow guitarist in the band. Zack was about two inches shorter than Brian, with jet black hair that was slicked back in the middle and trimmed slightly shorter on each side. He had perfectly arched eyebrows, sun-kissed skin, and bright green eyes that shone like emeralds. Two tiny holes were barely visible on each end of his plump lips, where cold metal hoops once occupied his snakebite piercings. "Oh...right. Thanks, Zacky." Zacky Vengeance was a name the rhythm guitarist gave to himself, almost as a spit in the face to all the people who doubted his potential in high school. Zack was also responsible for bassist Jonathan Seward's stage name, Johnny Christ, feeling it suited the short, mohawked man well and also hoping to piss a few people off in the process. Singer Matthew Sanders called himself M. Shadows, being a dark character who often wore black eye makeup and clothes, covered himself in tattoos and piercings, and belted out gritty growls and screams. He had toned down his wild side considerably over the years, but Matt still preferred the name. Jimmy, Avenged Sevenfold's deceased drummer, called himself "The Reverend Tholomew Plague," later shortened to "The Reverend" or just "The Rev." No one ever understood the name, but then again, no one ever really understood Jimmy. He was crazy in his own beautiful way, childlike even. They all loved him for it too. Jimmy was everyone's best friend. Even Arin Ilejay, the band's current drummer, refers to Jimmy as his hero and "favorite drummer ever." Arin didn't really have a nickname, but the guys called him "Kid" for being twenty-seven years old. There really wasn't that much of an age difference though. In fact, Arin was only three years younger than Johnny, but it was always fun to pick on the new guy and Arin didn't seem to mind.
"Could you get that?" Brian asked casually as he tossed his phone to Jason Berry, the long time drum technician and good friend of the band. Matt Berry, Jason's twin brother, shrugged his shoulders before sitting on the brown, grossly stained couch and tuning Johnny's bass. "Hello?" Jason said into the speaker exasperatedly. "Hey, Brooke. The guys are getting ready for the big show in Denmark tonight. Can he call you back later?" Brian stopped applying his eyeliner and rolled his mocha brown eyes. He most definitely would not be calling Brooke back. "Alright. Bye." Jason hung up the phone and gave Brian the look of a disappointed parent. "Don't," Brian snapped at him. He wasn't in the mood to be lectured about how he needed to make more of an effort for Jimmy's cousin. He knew perfectly well that what they were doing was wrong and that they were breaking a promise to Jimmy that they would take care of her, but interacting with Brooke was simply too painful. Brian took his phone from a silent, glaring Jason and pushed passed him.
***
"SEVENFOLD! SEVENFOLD! SEVENFOLD!" The Denmark crowd was loud and ready, with the band equally as excited. Matt, Zack, Brian, Johnny, and Arin stood in a circle off the side of the stage with Jason, Matt, and Dan Abell. Dan was a well-built man with dark brown hair and a perfect tan that could only come from the hot California sun. He was leading the group in a fist pump, screaming at them as if he were a drill sergeant and this was boot camp.
"ARE YOU GONNA KICK SOME ASS TONIGHT?"
"YEAH!"
"YOU GONNA SHOW THESE KIDS WHAT YOU GOT?"
"YEAH!"
"YOU READY TO HAVE FUN OUT THERE?"
"FUCK YEAH!"
"WHO ARE WE?"
"A-SEVEN-X!"
The band erupted in screams as they broke the circle, each taking turns to touch Johnny's mile-high mohawk. Arin bent down and played a simple rhythm with his drumsticks on the floor, the same beat that Jimmy always played right before a show. The band had been practicing the same pre-show rituals since their very first show in 1999, minus the mohawk thing since Johnny wasn't yet a member, and absolutely had to do these things before every performance, no matter how silly some of them were. Jason Berry gave them each a good slap on the ass as they walked onstage, another must-have before every gig. Matt was the last to walk out, carrying a water bottle and taking exactly seven steps before spitting a mouthful of water straight into the air. The band began to play "Beast and the Harlot," always a hit among the rowdy crowd. Brian jumped up on one of the three black boxes that lined the front of the stage, playing his pinstriped mahogany guitar at a blindingly fast pace and already sweating under the white spotlight. While Synyster Gates lived out his dream in front of thousands of drooling girls all chanting his name, he couldn't help but think of the one girl that had always cheered him on - the girl whose support meant more to him than all of his fans combined. And, unfortunately for Brian, the girl that was on the other side of the world hating his guts right now.
I really like this. :3
1/26/16