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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Avenged Sevenfold >> A Far Cry from Innocence

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.


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I: Meeting
By Warped


I first met the guys two days after I returned from Alaska. Not the city, Alaska, but Alaska, Alaska.

I'd spent two months in the wilderness, inspired by the story of Chris McCandless, and when I came home it felt like I was a stranger to the world I'd once lived in gratuitously and without a second thought.

At that point, I was only just on the verge of comprehending why exactly I'd come home. I loved the wilderness, and I loved the freedom - I loved shedding all the rules of society and just living. And what better place was there to do it than Alaska, a place that was all at once rural, wild and unforgiving? I'd had no doubt I'd come back alive, unlike the unfortunate but now infamous McCandless; but it was when I'd come back that had worried my parents. After all, it had been difficult to force myself to leave the place, but after finding the `Magic Bus' so far down the Stampede Trail, seeing (and crossing) the gloriously deadly Teklinika river, and above all, finding the messages inscribed to McCandless by people who had made the hike just like myself, messages glorifying and praising him for inspiring them just as he had me - I'd decided that should I give myself the choice to stay any longer, I probably wouldn't come back at all. So I'd forced myself to return to the society I felt like I could keep shunning for the rest of…however long I had left in me.

And of course that was when I met him, three o' clock in the morning when I'd been unable to sleep, slipped silently out of the house and was casually wandering down the dimly lit sands of Huntington Beach. I was out to reflect on things; mainly to be closer to the world I'd spent around 60 days revelling in the glory of. Alaska was a long way away (more than 2,000 miles away to be exact) but at least here I was next to the ocean; listening to the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore.

He, on the other hand, was pretty tipsy and stumbling down the beach with a couple of his friends, obnoxiously loud and cheerful and keeping up the appearance of being absolutely smashed. The three of them together looked like they could be any old thugs from the street; something which made me instantly wary of them. Safe to say, him meeting me and me meeting him was like the two polar opposite ends of society colliding - which was exactly what we did, as I went out of my way to avoid him and he blithely managed to ignore that fact and crash into me anyway.

I stumbled backward, slightly shocked, and ending up toppling onto my ass in the sand when he continued to teeter sideways into me, looking confused. Safe to say it wasn't difficult for him to inadvertently have pushed me to the floor - he was built like a brick shithouse, and there was no way I could have avoided noticing this because he was also shirtless, and in this lighting it looked like his muscles had muscles. He must have been more than 200 pounds of nothing but muscle, and his skin was littered with tattoos that I could see the outlines of in the moonlight, and he sported a lip ring that glinted on the right side of his lip. By my guess he was probably about twenty or twenty-one and he had at least the good grace to look embarrassed, his brow furrowing in concern as he looked down at me and his friends giggled into the bottles they were drinking from.

“Sorry.” he flashed me a sheepish grin, seemingly having been sobered a little by the experience, “Totally didn't see you there.” he paused, then leaned down to offer me a hand after a moment of thought. I sniggered, taking it into an attempt to get to my feet, only to find myself pushed into the sand again when the shorter of his buddies ran up behind him and shoved him pretty much on top of me, smirking victoriously. I yelped in shock both at the situation and at the cold water seeping into my skin again and wriggled out from under him, glancing up to find him laughing, dimples indenting his cheeks as he gave up and slumped in the wet sand beside me, muttering an apology for his friend's behaviour. I laughed.

“Don't worry about it. I'm Scarlet.” I offered, unable to hide the smile curling the corners of my lips. He rubbed the back of his neck shamefacedly, grin widening in response.

“Matt,” he replied, offering me a hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

I took his hand and shook it, flashing him a grin as I stumbled to my feet, and brushing the sand from my ass and legs as he took his sweet time to get up as well. By this point the two guys he was with - one of them, the guy who'd decided to push Matt on top of me, was almost as short as me, with a strong jaw, dark eyes, a Mohawk and a nose piercing, and the other was about average height with snakebites and a septum piercing, wearing a similar Misfits shirt to mine and cut-off jeans, so you could see his white socks and the black sneakers they contrasted with - had backed off a little, probably chuckling to themselves at the inadvertent conversation starter.

“So, why you out so late?” Matt probed curiously, his eyes taking in the plain ripped jeans, sandals and long-sleeved shirt I was sporting that was pretty similar to his friend's. Certainly not party material, certainly not the kind of thing you found girls wearing at 3am on the PCH. There was also the fact I was sober as a rock - also not a condition you usually found girls on the PCH at 3am in. And I was wearing no makeup at all. I shrugged.

“Just wandering.” he sniggered in obvious disbelief, squeezing my shoulder as I turned to head further away from the tide that had started lapping at my feet, and following as I moved back onto the sidewalk. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, “No, really…I'm just…wandering, you know? And I like the sea. It soothes me.” my lips twitched, “Apart from when great big asses like you come along and shove me in.” he smiled abashedly, shrugging an apology.

“Yeah so, you're an affinity-with-nature girl are you?”

“Are you calling me a hippie?” I affected offence, and he paused to consider the question, tilting his head,

“I guess I am. Sure sounds like you are...” he cracked a wider smile, scuffing his foot on the pavement. I grinned, shrugged.

“Not really. I'm just sick of people. I just got back from two months in Alaska…running away from it all.”

At this he snickered, nudging me good naturedly. “So you're a hermit, then.” I smacked his arm, shaking my head and biting back a grin.

“Shut up. It's complicated.”

At this he nodded, either accepting my excuse or bored of pestering me for a reason, and I huffed quietly, shoving my hands into my pockets and hunching my shoulders as I continued to pad along the sidewalk in my soaked sandals. He followed me, resting a hand on my shoulder to get my attention,

“Hey, where d'you think you're going?” he faked hurt, and I couldn't help but laugh at his expression as I pushed his hand lightly,

“Home! It's three thirty in the morning, in case you hadn't noticed.” he frowned dismissively,

“So? Me and the guys were gonna head back to my place to chill out…I was just gonna ask whether you wanted to come with?”

I smirked at him. “How do I know you're not a rapist or a thug or a kidnapper?”

“Do I look like a rapist or a thug or a kidnapper?” he challenged, and I paused to look him up and down critically, the bare chest and arms covered in tattoos, and then the piercings in his lip and ears, the huge bulk of his body, and I shrugged.


“Hey - I don't!” he managed to look almost upset, folding his arms, “You weren't supposed to say yeah.”

“Well you do…” I argued, not able to hide the smirk, “I mean just look at you, you three look like a gang. Your buddy over there looks like he's gonna knife someone.” I nodded at the taller of the pair with the more piercings, who looked mildly offended. “Anyway, you can't prove I'd come home in one piece - or at all - if I went back to yours.”

His frown melted away, and his grin widened cheekily as he shrugged and took me by the hand in a way that said there was gonna be no arguing.

“Then you're just gonna have to trust me, aren't you?” he took my sigh of resignation as a personal victory and grinned to himself as he threw an arm over my shoulders and led me down the street.


“So tell me about yourself.” I offered, glancing up at him and wrinkling my nose as I padded up the driveway towards his not-so-humble looking house, “And why exactly are you shirtless?”

He flashed me a grin and shrugged again, squeezing my shoulder lightly, “I'm twenty, I've lived in Huntington Beach all my life…uh, I've never been to college and I'm never going, cos I'm in a band and we're gonna take over the fucking planet.” he said it with such conviction that I found it difficult not to believe him, perking my brow curiously. “And I'm shirtless cos I lost my shirt.” he added, grinning.

“What band?” I pressed, and he looked pleased at the question, opening his mouth to answer before he was beaten to it by his friend, the one with the snakebites who darted to catch up with us and grinned at me, shoving Matt's arm off of my shoulders and replacing it with his own.

“We're called Avenged Sevenfold.” he said smugly, “And Matt's the smartass that came up with the name. It's from the Bible, y'know, but we're not a religious band or anything. It just sounds awesome.” I nodded my agreement, grinning victoriously at having recognised the name of their band immediately, though I'd never really looked into the guys behind the music before this very moment. Matt's friend gave me a friendly nudge, winking playfully, and I was momentarily lost in his eyes when the both of them were open again, mesmerised by the perfect rings of sea-green, “I'm Zack, by the way. And short stuff's Johnny.” I smiled, ducking my head and nodding gently, all words lost on my tongue. Boy did he have the charm and the looks going for him.

“Scarlet. Nice meeting you, Zack.” I shrugged his arm from my shoulders, trying to look as casual as possible when we got to the top of the driveway, and Matt let us into his already brightly-lit house. I could only imagine the reason for this was that there was someone already home, and I wasn't wrong, watching a dark-haired girl bustle from the living room with a broad smile of welcome despite our exceptionally bad timing. Or maybe everyone in this house was just nocturnal.

“Hey, babe.” she greeted Matt, leaning up to kiss him briefly as he wrapped an arm around her tiny waist, meeting her lips affectionately. I saw her glance around the rest of us, blinking slightly in shock but her smile becoming no less warm when she noticed my presence, “I don't think I know you?” I shook my head, smiling sheepishly and brushing a strand of hair back behind my ear,

“No. I'm Scarlet. Matt ran into me on the beach and decided I had to come chill with you guys.” she laughed, pulling me into a friendly hug as she nodded.

“Yeah, he does that sometimes. I'm Val, s'really nice to meet you.” I couldn't help but smile at the welcome, glancing around the house slowly. It was homely, and it radiated a feeling of warmth that matched both its inhabitants; decorated modestly but not tastelessly, with paintings and ornaments and photographs of family, and little trinkets everywhere.

“You, too. Nice place you got here.” she grinned appreciatively at the compliment before letting me out of the hug, and ushering me towards the living room where the guys had already headed, beer in hand after raiding the kitchen first. I stepped into the room to find it occupied by yet more people, sprawled carelessly on sofas, loveseats and even the floor, the lazy drone of voices on the TV in the background. Matt had taken up space perched on the back of the sofa that was taken up by a lanky-looking, dark-haired guy with glasses, a labret piercing and an adorable smile. Next to him sat a gorgeous, petite woman almost the same height as me, with long, curly red-streaked brown hair and a smile that seemed to be full of gleaming white teeth. They chatted good-naturedly, his arm around her, and swigged from bottles of beer calmly as he pulled her into his lap and hid his face in the back of her shoulder, closing his eyes and sighing contently.

“Scar, that's Jimmy and Leana.” Matt interrupted my observation, smiling lopsidedly as I nodded a greeting to the both of them and wondered at the shortening of my name, and then he gestured round the room. “The chick with Johnny is Lacey - she wears the trousers and he's fucking whipped.” Lacey was a pretty little dark-haired girl and she too had a broad smile, settled with Johnny on a loveseat in the far corner of the room, ignoring his instant protests at Matt's claim. “Over there's Brian and Michelle, she's Val's twin.” he pointed to a taller-looking guy with long, dark hair and eye make-up that was (shamefully) far better than my own, and his girlfriend who just at that moment had stolen the fedora from his head and chuckled as he pouted and tried to snatch it back unsuccessfully. She grinned triumphantly and shoved the fedora onto her own head, leaning away from him as he pawed mock-pathetically at her shoulder. Michelle looked a lot like her twin; with the same broad smile and delicate features, only she had longer hair that fell in graceful curls, and her hair was a honey-blonde rather than the black her sister sported. I smiled at them both, glancing around to find out where Zacky had gotten to, only to see him alone, reclining back on the only sofa now available, a smile flickering on his lips slowly as he gestured me over. I flopped onto the sofa next to him and his arm snaked its way over my shoulders again; I grinned.

“So, where's your better half?” I teased, nudging him in the ribs gently as his gaze flickered to meet mine. His lips curled slightly and he shrugged heavily, as though the weight of the world was sliding off his shoulders with the one movement,

“I don't have one.” he said simply, squeezing my shoulders gently and reclining lazily further back on the sofa. “I could ask the same thing of you.” I huffed, and rolled my shoulders as well, brow furrowing at the complexity of the answer I could give.

“Nobody can put up with me that long.” I joked, and he snorted in disbelief at my words, “Okay…I just don't have one either.” seeming more satisfied than this answer, he nodded quietly as well, taking a swig from his beer as I curled up next to him and settled to watch the TV, my head resting comfortably against his shoulder.

Hours later the constant chatter that had taken over the house once everyone had settled was dying down, and two by two people had started to drift upstairs to bed, occupying Matt's spare rooms and probably some of the rooms that weren't spare, too.

Aside from the murmured conversation I'd kept up with Zack throughout the night, there was barely anything keeping my eyes from closing, and once the sun started to peek through the blinds in the living room I'd almost entirely given in, my eyelids drooping and my cheek hidden in the crook of his neck. I wanted to get up, shift myself and go upstairs - find a more comfortable position at least, but that meant people politics; the awkwardness of contemplating whether I was going to share a room with Zack or not, and from then on exactly how we were planning to sleep. I was too tired to think too hard now, and my head was muggy with heat and what felt like cotton wool. So, instead, I listened to the sound of Zack's breathing slowing as he most likely went through the same things in his head as me, his hand sliding comfortably to my waist and tightening as he pulled me closer to him. My lips twitched softly, and I buried my face in his chest, curling up and breathing in his scent as I let the tiredness overwhelm me.

God knows what the next day would bring.


The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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