Almost Easy

“I’m going to die,” I said as I jittered in one spot, my hands trembling.
Justin groaned, tapping his sticks against his chest like some hyped up baboon, “You’re not going to die.”
“There are a lot of people out there,” I said seriously, my heart racing.
The venue was packed. Nearly 2,500 seats full of shouting humans. Maye 2,500 doesn’t sound like a lot—but the biggest show we’d ever played was to maybe 500 people. Maybe. I’d never played to this massive of a crowd and the pressure was killing me.
Brian rubbed at my arms from behind me, his pin-striped guitar resting against the small of my back. I shifted to avoid having the bar jab into my rib cage. I took a couple deep breaths as our ultra-dramatic intro music ripped through the venue. The lights went out—two flashes on the screen.
“This is how I die,” I whined again.
Brian laughed, kissing my cheek quickly, “You’re going to kill it.”
“Always so dramatic,” Chris chuckled as he pushed passed me and led Brian onto the stage.
“It’s going to be good,” John assured me as he entered the stage.
“Don’t you fucking leave me,” I warned Justin, who was already on his way to the stage.
He laughed, “See you in a second!”
And then I was alone. They opened the show with our radio single that had been such a hit. We figured that would probably get the crowd riled up and excited for the rest of our set; which included songs they hadn’t had as much time to grow into.
“Go!” one of the techs screeched at me as my queue came and went.
Deep breath.
You’re not Blair today. Today you’re Blair. My hair and makeup would suggest that I was some iconic rock star—even if I wasn’t feeling up to par. Fake it until you make it, I guess.
“Las Vegas!” I shouted as I marched out onto the stage. “How’re we doing tonight?”
Much to my joy, they cheered and hollered in response. A grin spread across my face. It was going to be alright.
We moved through the first two songs without any issues. Brian was doing a damn fine job leading us through every hook. I couldn’t stop watching him—he was magnetic. John plucked at his bass strings as Justin quickly chugged at his water. He was no Rev but he could keep up a good strength.
“So I’m sure you all know,” I said into the microphone, pacing the stage near to Chris. “But we lost someone very close to us recently.”
The crowd cheered. This confused me.
“This next song goes out to him,” I continued, watching the blue and pink lights skate across the crowd. “We love you, Ty.”
This particular song was the only one that Brian had called out any issue with. It wasn’t for technical issues or for quality. It was literally that it, and I quote, ‘pained’ him to play it. It was the last piece that Tyler had ever written and hadn’t even had a chance to lay down a demo play for. But it was as beautiful as it was strong and Brian eventually got over his qualms about playing it. At least enough to muddle through, anyway.
Brian did it so much justice that I’d almost forgotten how much we’d fought about the song.
“I can’t play this live,” he’d said to me, holding his hands over the strings of his guitar. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to record. But if I fuck this up live…I’m not sure how to be okay with that.”
I reminded him every single fucking day that he was Synyster god damn Gates and there was no way he’d fuck it up. Even if he did, we were all perfectly at peace with that. He was, after all, not Tyler. It wasn’t his song. It wasn’t his responsibility to make sure it was perfect. We were grateful for any and all efforts on Brian’s part.
I digress.
Brian was incredible live.
“Synyster fucking Gates!” I shouted into the mic.
The crowd roared like thunder. They chanted and they shouted and it was fucking orgasmic. I could live off of that high forever. It was like nothing I’d ever known. Brian gave me a quick wink, smirking like an idiot.
We finished up our set and welcomed the band that shall not be named to the stage. With a quick, genuine thank you to the crowd, we were done.
No one said a word until we were tucked away safely in the dressing room. And then the boys were cracking beers and doing a lot of patting each other. Adrenaline was weird.
“That was fucking insane,” Justin thought aloud excitedly. “This is our fucking life.”
“So did you die?” Brian teased me, placing himself in my immediate space.
I nodded, “I did.”
“You were pretty fucking great,” he told me seriously, still grinning. “Your voice is top fucking notch.”
“You are using the word fucking a lot,” I jested, pushing my face up closer to his.
“It’s on my mind,” he said lowly before pushing his lips to mine.
Forgetting that there were other people present, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him further into me, my tongue hungry for his.
“Ahem,” John called loudly.
We separated ourselves regretfully.
“Remember how you guys aren’t supposed to be dating,” Justin mused.
“Oh, there’s no one in here that cares about that,” I waved him off.
Brian gave me a little pinch on the behind before leaving the room, muttering something about talking to Mona about his tones. I didn’t know what any of it meant so I didn’t even pretend that I was listening.
He was Mona’s problem for now.
“Can you believe this is our life?” Justin started again, his eyes wide with bewilderment. “Who did we fuck in our past lives to end up with this sweet deal?”
“I have thoughts on that,” Chris replied. “But they’re not appropriate for the Christian in the group.”
John lowered his brows, “Chris.”
“No, it’s you,” Chris joked with a smirk. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
Justin swung his sweaty arm over my shoulders. He smelled fierce. I tried not to make it obvious but I was gagging.
“How lucky are we,” he said to me specifically.
I smiled, “Pretty lucky.”
“Celebrations are in order!” Justin declared.
No one objected.

The bus was ripe with celebration chaos. People were clanking their glasses together all over the place—it was really, really loud. I tried not to let anxiety get the better of me but I seriously wasn’t into all of the people crammed together into such a small space.
I tried to soothe my uneasiness with alcohol, which seemed to help for a while before the other band and their crew showed up. Too many people; not enough space.
I excused myself to step outside and chain smoke. The contrast in noise level was almost enough to deafen me. The air outside was hot and sticky but it was mostly quiet. There were absolutely no stars in the sky; I accredited this to the serious light pollution emanating from Vegas.
“Well hey there,” the other band’s drummer said to me from somewhere in the darkness.
My eyes strained to spot him. He eased my struggle as he emerged from the shadows and positioned himself next to me.
“Hey,” I said awkwardly.
“Didn’t realize you were a smoker,” he said to me.
I just nodded.
“I’m Dave,” he said, extending his hand to me. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”
I shook his hand, “Blair.”
“Killer set tonight,” he told me, still holding my hand.
I pulled it back, so hard that my elbow smashed into the side of the bus. It was awkward so I pretended like it didn’t happen.
“Thanks,” I said instead.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone anyway?” he asked me flirtatiously.
My face involuntarily snarled, “Does that line ever work for you?”
“No,” he laughed lightly. “But I thought it was worth a try.”
“You should really think about changing your material,” I told him seriously.
He sized me up, “Any suggestions?”
It is important that you understand just how beautiful this fucking man was. He was, by no means, Brian Haner but he was undeniably gorgeous. He had big green eyes and a straight smile. If I hadn’t met Brian, this was totally a guy I’d consider for a one night stand.
However, I must have adapted to monogamy well because the guy did absolutely nothing for me. If anything, I was irritated by his pompousness.
“I’m definitely not one to take tips about flirting from,” I smiled.
He scowled, “I seriously doubt that. Though, someone that looks like you do probably doesn’t even need to flirt. You just show up and the men flock to you, I bet.”
I shook my head, using my cigarette as a boundary to separate us. He’d moved closer to me without my notice. He was actually pretty smooth.
“And I shoo them away,” I retorted, trying to move away from him without alerting attention.
In the most unfortunate timing of all timings in the history of time, Brian and Mona rounded the corner and had front row tickets to this shit show. Mona looked confused. Brian looked pissed.
He looked me up and down, I cringed, “Got a boyfriend?”
Even in a world without Brian, if I had considered hooking up with him, his English skills would have instantly been a deal breaker. Got. Jesus H.
“Um, no,” I lied reluctantly, very aware of Brian’s impending presence.
He licked at his lips subconsciously, “How’s that possible?”
“I’m a real bitch,” I told him but was staring at Brian.
Brian, though, was not staring back. His attention was focused solely on Dave, who was still trying to bring himself closer to me. Mona saved me.
“Hey!” she smiled, finally reasonably close enough to me to strike up conversation. “What a great show!”
“Yeah,” I agreed thankfully, breathing out a large cloud of smoke as I spoke.
“Everyone inside?” she asked, pointing to the door to the bus.
I nodded, “And then some.”
“Cool. You coming in?” she asked me with a knowing look.
“Yeah, sure,” I nodded.
Dave was persistent, “I’ll meet you in there.”
He followed Mona in. I stayed outside. He may have been smooth-ish in his attempt but I was way smoother in my rejection.
Brian looked like he desperately wanted to question me. He was tense and had obviously stumbled upon some other guy trying to bed me. However, he knew what I knew; if I wasn’t allowed to be jealous, neither was he.
“You know,” he said lowly as he tossed aside his jealousy and wrapped his arms around me. “You’re pretty fucking tasty on stage.”
“Is that right?” I blushed.
He nodded dramatically, “In awe of you always.”
God damn I loved him.
“You were pretty alright yourself there, Mr. Gates,” I winked.
He shook his head, “No, don’t do that. I get enough of that at home. This is all about you, Peterson. Fuck are you ever impressive.”
His desire to give me compliments caught me a little off guard. Not that I was going to oppose though—be serious. His eyes flickered with the light streaming out through the bus window. Even in the darkness, they were beautiful.
“You sound surprised,” I teased daringly.
He smirked, “I am a little. You’re so nervous all the fucking time. It’s crazy to watch you on stage. You become someone else. It’s sexy as hell.”
All I needed was a stage name I guess and Brian and I would have been playing in the same sandbox. It’s funny to hear the way you look at other people reflected in the way they look at you. Felt a little like a backhanded compliment though.
“Well thanks,” I replied awkwardly. “I think.”
“It’s a good thing,” he assured me. “You’re sexy all the time.”
“Even when I’m nervous?” I half-laughed.
He nodded, “Especially when you’re nervous.”
“Good,” I flushed. “Because you make me hella nervous.”
“Good,” he mimicked, placing his lips just an inch apart from mine.
He topped off my perfect night with a perfect kiss.
I was impatiently waiting for everyone to vacate my bus so that I could get Brian into my bunk. Watching him on stage had been an aphrodisiac like no other and there was no way I wasn’t satisfying that urge.
I also desperately needed my suitor to leave. I was not particularly interested in withstanding any more of his flirtations.
Eventually, after smoking way too many cigarettes and talking way too much about my level of tasty, we retreated back into the party.
Chris immediately stole Brian from me, promising he’d return him to me ‘at some point’.
Mona waved me over to her place on the couch where she’d conveniently saved a space. I plopped down next to her, suddenly feeling the weight of my exhaustion.
“You smell like an ash tray,” she told me with a laugh.
“Sorry,” I replied lamely.
“What was that outside?” she asked me quietly.
I shook my head, “Drunk musicians….always looking for their next lay.”
“He’s cute,” she shrugged.
“Not as cute as Brian,” I smirked.
She scrunched her face for a second, “Touché. I really like him.”
“Brian or Dave?” I asked with a laugh.
“Brian!” she giggled. “He’s so nice! Better attitude than Chris too which is a plus.”
“Everyone’s attitude is better than Chris’s,” I noted.
She shook her head, “Justin.”
“Right,” I laughed. “But he’s just on his own fucking level.”
She nodded slowly, picking at her fingernails.
“But Brian was good?” I returned to our original point.
I liked to know that he was cooperative and well-liked. The crew would be such a vital part of our tour life that it seemed necessary that they get along. That, and I really liked Mona and loved to have her approval.
“For sure,” she nodded again, more decisively this time. “Talked about you non-fucking-stop. Which I love.”
“Oh really?” I purred, cozying up to her for more validation.
She giggled, “Big time. Wouldn’t shut up about you and your stupid voice. He’s a little crazy about you, huh?”
“Who’s crazy about you?” one drunken bassist asked, staggering in her attempt to stand in front of us.
“The fans,” Mona lied for me.
“They were nuts, right?” she slurred happily. “Such a good show.”
I pretended that I’d watched any of her set, agreeing that their part of the show was great. I had no idea. I wasn’t even sure they’d played a set.
“So, tell me,” Callie spoke semi-quietly. “Is Synyster Gates seeing anyone?”
It was like taking a bullet to the chest.
What was this, sex night at the Haven bus? Did we leave our red light on?
Beyond my obvious bewilderment, I had a dilemma at hand.
Not only was I about to lie, giving this broad absolute authority and ability to pursue my boyfriend, but it also confirmed my suspicions from the night before. I’d been correct in my assessment of her interest in Brian. I was fucking angry. I had to now not only bullshit my way out of a relationship but I had to seem totally detached about it.
It was hard to see how any of it was worth my supposed ‘reputation’. What does that even mean? Another one of Austin’s bullshit ideas, only furthering my resentment of him.
“I don’t know,” I said instead of a hard no.
She squinted at me suspiciously, “I heard a rumor you guys were dating. You’re not?”
Apparently I couldn’t use vague as a disguise. Mona looked at me, cringing.
“No,” I lied reluctantly.
“Awesome!” she declared happily. “Didn’t want to step on your toes.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. Mona sighed really loudly.
She skipped over to Brian, wrapping a hand around his waist. He put his hand on her back, still talking to Justin. My heart sank into my knees. This kind of jealousy wasn’t cute.
But then Brian turned his head and looked absolutely appalled to find Callie standing next to him. He sort of jumped, immediately pulling his hand away from her and stepping to the side to break her grip on him. He was doing a lot of shaking his head at her, saying things that I couldn’t hear.
It didn’t matter. His reaction was good enough for me.
“I like your boyfriend,” Mona reiterated to me with a smile.
Brian was pointing at me then, a strange expression scribbled across his face. She looked angry.
She marched herself over to me, nearly tripping as she did, pointing a finger at me once she was positioned directly in front of me.
“You said you weren’t dating,” she scolded me. “What the fuck, Blair.”
I was confused. I was about to further my lie when Brian appeared, looming behind her. He waved with his fingers for me to get up. If it meant I didn’t have to talk to the twit anymore, I was good with it.
“What’s up?” I asked once I was with him.
Unfortunately, though, Callie had turned to continue giving me shit.
Brian grabbed me by my cheeks and pulled my lips to his. He kissed me with a passion I was familiar with. I moaned into him gladly, forgetting that we weren’t supposed to be engaging in romantic antics.
But then I remembered.
I pushed him away lightly, nearly panting from the adrenaline he was causing me, “Brian—”
“I don’t care,” he told me seriously. “I don’t fucking care.”
That was good enough for me. I wrapped my arms around him, reintroducing my lips to his as Callie made some god awful scoffing sound before stomping away like a toddler.
Sorry bitch, he’s my snack; not yours.
“You guys are going to get in trouble,” Jimmy sang as he slithered around us.
Laughter broke our kiss apart. It was true though.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I told Brian, biting at my lip anxiously.
He rolled his eyes, “So what? Synyster Gates has a girlfriend. Big deal.”
“And what about Blair Peterson?” I joked, poking at his chest. “Apparently a boyfriend is bad for her image.”
“What-fucking-ever,” he groaned with a laugh.
Even though I was more than happy to have marked my territory, and Brian ultimately marked his, I could already hear Austin’s impending lecture. I wasn’t sure Brian had thought about what he was doing.
I dragged him outside, tossing a cigarette at him to buy me time before he’d speak. I had to verbalize what I was thinking before he distracted me too much.
“I’m confused,” is all I could muster.
He smirked, “It doesn’t take much, does it?”
“Shut up,” I laughed. “I thought we were supposed to be keeping things on the down-low.”
“We were,” he nodded.
I shook my head in confusion, “So then what?”
“That was twice,” Brian told me with a whimsical look on his face. “Two times that you had to watch that same chick come onto me. It’s been what, twenty four hours?”
I hesitated, “I can handle it.”
“Maybe you can,” he shrugged. “But I can’t.”
My eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”
“That guy very obviously wanted to fuck you,” he stated simply. “I’ve never wanted to hurt someone as much as I wanted to hurt him.”
“I would never,” I told Brian honestly.
He smiled for a second, “I know. It’s not even about that.”
“I’m confused again,” I said softly.
Brian took one very long haul of his cigarette, “All I’m saying is that someone else made the decision to keep our relationship a secret. I agreed, I guess. But now I’m changing my mind.”
“Okay,” I processed slowly, the liquor swishing around in my body was loud.
He looked at me seriously then, “I don’t want anybody else.”
“Me neither,” I agreed.
“Then it shouldn’t matter if anyone knows,” he suggested with a lung full of smoke. “Right?”
“Right,” I concurred. “But we’re going to get in trouble.”
“You are,” he corrected with a chuckle. “I can do what I want. I’m fucking Synyster Gates.”
“No, I’m fucking Synyster Gates,” I teased.
“Yeah, you are,” he croaked, pulling my body into his.
He held his cigarette to my lips and I took a deep puff. Even nicotine tasted better when it was his.
“I’m glad you told her,” I said to him as he pulled his cigarette back.
He choked, “I fucking thought she was you.”
“I know,” I smiled warmly. “I gathered that from your reaction to her face.”
“Like rolling over to find the crypt keeper,” he told me seriously.
“Maybe she won’t tell anyone,” I shrugged, not that I really cared either way.
He scoffed, “I hope she tells everyone. If I never have to see another dude trying to fuck you, it’ll be too soon.”
I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in. It was deeply satisfying to have made Brian jealous, even if it wasn’t necessarily me. What’s that about a taste of your own medicine? One little sample of what I’d had to watch and suddenly Brian understood. We were finally on the same page.
I figured I could handle fans swooning over him and reaching out for a touch. That was a separate issue that I reckoned I was equipped to deal with. But other musicians, other women that would be around us intimately…if they would be less of an ongoing issue, my relationship was looking a lot more secure.
“I’m going to knock him out,” Brian told me with a smirk.
I giggled, “Okay.”
Just like that, we were on the same page again.

Notes