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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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IV: Just another nancy boy
By Warped


Sorry for the huge wait, guys - with exams and holidays and parties and everything I kind of got three months worth of distracted! Thank you kindly everyone that reviewed so far, and soullust and allybaby for the reviews that sent me emails at the start of this month reminding me I was still actually writing this :3 But I won't put it off any longer, here's the next chapter!

And how quickly those six nights passed us by.

Now I sat perched comfortably on top of the suitcase I'd packed for the journey, watching as each of the boys did their bit to try and pack the van we would be calling home for the next two years. I'd offered to lend a hand, being only too willing to help, but hadn't been surprised when they'd laughed it off - saying I'd be more of a hindrance than a help. But hey, more power to them; after all it was me that was lounging on the kerb watching them sweat and curse to pack all the equipment and bags in the stifling midday sun.

Calmly watching my boyfriend battle with an unwieldy kick drum was rapidly becoming my favourite part of the ordeal.

He was doing his very best not to drop it, but it was becoming very clear very fast that this battle was not one he was going to win. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that dangerous little set in Jimmy's jaw that read certain death for Zack the moment the drum hit the ground - but neither of us made any move to lend a hand to my hissing, swearing partner as he struggled to get a grip on the rim, anywhere on the damn drum. Too much fun watching him struggle.

I glanced at Jimmy again only to see him smirking at me expectantly, and I rolled my eyes, slowly and luxuriantly getting to my feet and taking a moment to stretch so Zack could see I was in no real hurry to save his ass. In response he tottered with it (of course he would exaggerate now he knew I was coming to help) and I sniggered, dashing over to grab the drum from him and taking the whole five strides he'd have needed to take to put it in the van.

“Weakling.” I teased, grinning at him as he wiped his brow in flamboyant mock exhaustion and smirked at me.

“Nuh uh, I just know how to push all the right buttons to get you to be my bitch.” He retorted, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me away from the vehicle the boys were still trying to load before they could start pelting things at us to make us move. Serious business, this van packing - I didn't quite have the heart to raise the issue of why they hadn't decided to do it before now. But my attention was brought away from that small matter and back to Zack when he decided to pull me into him, pulling me close to his chest and squeezing me playfully in a bear hug. Z's hugs were the best kind, because he didn't suffocate you. Instead, like the teddy bear he was, he just enveloped you in warmth and held you like he never wanted to let go. And then you gave up resisting, melded into him and hugged back. I should have acted at least slightly pissed at him for calling me `his bitch', but in all honesty I was too happy in the position I was in.

Damn him and his perfect hugs. They equated to instant forgiveness.

I smiled up at him, burying my face in his chest and breathing in his scent slowly as he grinned, bowing his head to ghost his lips against my forehead as he brushed a stray hair back into place behind my ear.

“Are you looking forward to this?” he queried, meeting my gaze with a look of genuine concern for the answer in his eyes. The automatic answer should probably have been yes; but he didn't expect that - that was why he was asking, because he genuinely wanted to know. Another of my favourite things about him.

“Course I am, Z.” I reached up to touch his cheek in a gesture of reassurance, my own still buried against his chest. I was looking forward to it - of course I was, how could I not look forward to two years of travelling with my boyfriend and a bunch of guys (and Val) who had already become my best friends? I just wasn't looking forward to the groupies, all the good looking girls he'd see at shows; girls that would undoubtedly be more exotic or taller or thinner or better looking than me - not after Michelle's comments at the beach the other week. But I didn't understand why she'd try and hook us up if she knew he'd just go and hurt me; unless she nursed a secret hatred for me - or thought I could straighten him out.

That was unlikely. I melted and forgave him every time he gave me the puppy dog eyes, or smiled that cheeky little smile with his tongue between his teeth.

He pulled that smile now, dipping his head to kiss me in a sweet way that left my stomach full of butterflies, and I forgot what I'd been worrying about on the spot. I pressed closer to his chest, my hands winding up and around his neck as I closed my eyes blissfully and our tongues merged lazily, battling for dominance before he smiled against my mouth and sighed lowly into the kiss, an action that sent a warm shiver of longing down my spine.

“We gotta go soon, Scar.” He whispered against my lips, and I nodded in silence, letting my hands drift across the steady, muscled slope of his shoulders. He growled against my lips, eyes half-lidded in contentment in a way that reminded me of a cat who'd just settled down to warm itself in front of a crackling fire on a cold, rainy day. I smiled at that thought, tracing my fingers down his arm and following the lines of ink in his skin slowly as he flashed me a smile full of promises.

“Come back to my place?” his expression softened briefly as I tilted my head, pretending to contemplate - God, the green in his eyes smouldered when he gave me that look. The rest of his face was soft, from the curve of his jaw to the slight pout in his lips, but his eyes burned with intensity, and he knew as well as I did it was an intensity I couldn't resist.

“I guess so.” I conceded. He smiled reassuringly,

“We don't have to do anything, babe…I just wanna hold you for a while.” He had a way with words that sounded sweet, but I knew what he meant - after all, he hadn't really specified what parts of me he wanted to hold. Or whether the holding required clothes.

We hadn't gone all the way yet - of that I'd insisted - but he'd be damned if he didn't try and seduce me into it earlier than I intended.

I nodded anyway, wryness quirking in the corners of my mouth.

He grinned, satisfied with this response, and took my hand in his - tugging me along the streets with him with that hyped up, familiar urgency.


We returned to the van a couple of hours later showered, dried and pretty much thoroughly refreshed - though I suspected Z was still a little peeved from when he'd tried to sneak into my shower (like I'd known he would - that boy was obsessed with getting in my pants and when kissing from the sweet spot on my neck and all the way down my stomach hadn't convinced me to let him in them, he'd noted that in the shower it would be a far easier job, considering I wasn't wearing any) and I'd still refused to put out, letting him kiss me but leaving it at pretty much that. Nevertheless we returned to the van at a walk, fingers linked in that smug, contented way and wearing the smiles of a couple whose appetites for one another had been whetted for the meantime. The fact was, my skin still burned for his touch and he knew it - just like he knew I wanted to go further, but my pride wouldn't let me sleep with a guy I'd dated less than a week. I just wasn't that type of girl.

So when we found the van waiting for us and Jimmy, Johnny, Brian, Matt and Val all stood around it wearing expressions that ranged between knowing smugness and faux annoyance our smiles grew into something of Cheshire cat grins; we both knew what they'd all assumed. Jimmy, leaning against the van and fiddling with what looked suspiciously like a joint, was the first to notice us - and his grin seemed wider than both of ours put together.

“And here come the lovebirds now.” He cooed, putting the joint back in his pocket and wandering over to drape his arms over both our shoulders and squeezing us in a way that read `Get some!' better than the words themselves said out loud could have. Zack looked pleased enough with himself that I didn't try and argue the decision they'd all mentally come to, and followed him when he kissed the side of my head and led me into the van so I could sit in his lap and curl against his chest. I buried my face in his shoulder and breathed him in quietly, content at the smell of Jack Daniels and cigarettes that lingered permanently in most of his shirts. Val caught my eye and tutted playfully, shaking her head in mock disapproval though I'd liked to have point out that her stories of sexcapades with her own boyfriend left her with no leg to stand on. I grinned at her and just cuddled closer to Z as the van started moving - off to our first destination.

Several hours later, most of the van's occupants had (seemingly for lack of better things to do) gone to sleep - Zack included. His head drooped slightly so that the bridge of his nose rested against my shoulder and tickled when he snuffled in his sleep, and I ran my fingers through his hair absently, worrying at my lip as I swayed with the movement of the van. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't shake the worry that came increasingly the more I pondered Michelle's warning. Ignorance of that fact truly would have been bliss, because I for one knew how popular Zack was with the girls around Huntington; it made sense to me that he'd have girls throwing themselves at him left right and centre when they toured. And when push came to shove, would he really stop himself going to them? Girlfriend or not, he was still a guy - and I still hadn't put out.

I sighed, pushing myself out of his lap and padding through the mass of bodies to get through to the passenger seat next to Matt, who was singing along to what sounded like Pantera (complete with drumming motions on the steering wheel) and chewing thoughtfully on a liquorice shoelace as he drove. He froze mid fill, momentarily surprised by the company, before he reached out to turn the volume down, offering me a grin. And a shoelace.

“Hey,” he said simply, turning his attention back to the road after I'd stolen one of his proffered sweets, “What's up, Scar?”

I shifted in my seat hesitantly and nibbled on the shoelace, rubbing the back of my neck in an attempt to not look too concerned with the line of questioning I was going to take. Then I chickened out.

“Nothing much. Where're we headed?”

He grinned, spreading out a crumpled looking map across the dashboard with one hand and tracing a path that had already been highlighted red (and dotted with little red stars) with a forefinger.

“Pretty much just following the PCH for now. See the stars? That's the venues we're playing.” I whistled lowly as I studied the route; there were more little red stars than I could count and I assumed Val had taken the time and effort to arrange them all.

“Holy shit, you're going all out on this one aren't you?” I asked, and he grinned, obviously pleased with his girlfriend's efforts.

“You're never gonna get anywhere with your music if you don't get seen.”

I nodded, rubbing my arm gently as I fell silent briefly, running out of conversation. He glanced at me knowingly.

“What did you really come to talk about?” when I froze - unsure at him being able to read me so unnaturally easily - he just watched me, expectant, and I folded.

“Zack…” I sighed, wincing slightly as I waited for him to ask why the hell I had a problem with his best friend, my boyfriend - or at least to seem taken aback. I was surprised when he just nodded knowingly, gesturing for me to elaborate and grabbing another shoelace to chew on, “I was just uh…kind of freaked out, y'know? Michelle might have, um, hinted at something about—“

“Zack sleeping around.” He finished. Fuck - if it was that plain, if Matt pretty much expected it of him, it had to be true didn't it?

“Yeah.” I concluded lamely. Matt paused to think, and my stomach churned uncomfortably.

“Yeah, well I guess it could be said that Zack's something of a ladies' man…always has been. Gets girls just like that— (he snapped his fingers, which startled me out of my horrified trance) -anyway, I don't think it'll be anything for you to worry about. How's he gonna get the chance to hook up with other chicks if you two keep going at it the way you have been?” he grinned cheekily, obviously pleased with this solution, and I paused, stunned. Obviously he would think that…obviously everyone in the whole van would think we'd been at it like rabbits; and obviously, had it been true, I'd have no problem at all with keeping him from straying.

But it wasn't true, was it?

“Are you saying the only way to stop him screwing around is to find him and screw him before they can?” I choked out, trying my best not to look incredulous. He shrugged.

“Pretty much. I'm sure he wasn't even considering sleeping around anyway. He's got you, hasn't he? You should hear the way he talks about you - the way he talked about you even before you guys dated.” He laughed at the flush of red colouring my cheeks as I lowered my gaze in humbled shock, and clapped me on the shoulder heartily, “See! It's gravy, baby!”

“Yeah…thanks, Shads.” I mumbled, rubbing my thighs nervously. He nodded, chewing on another shoelace as he began his impromptu drumming on the wheel again as the song switched to Welcome to the Jungle. I turned to stare at the open road ahead as I listened to him sing along.




I woke up to the familiar drum-beat of Welcome to the Jungle and Axl's distinctive voice singing the starting lines - welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games… I stretched slowly, frowning when I realised Scar was no longer sitting in my lap, but reassured myself she hadn't ditched when I saw her in the passenger seat up front. I watched her for a while, staring out the road as she chatted to Matt amicably, the two of them getting along like a house on fire just like they had since the day he'd walked into her on the beach so long ago. I knew he liked her - perhaps a little more than he should considering she had me and he had Val - but I knew for certain that even if he tried to make a move she wouldn't go for it. She was far too loyal; far too faithful. She probably deserved better than I could offer her, someone like Matt instead of me. I'd never told her why I'd been single when we met, or about the amount of girls I'd just fucked over completely. It wasn't that I'd meant to - it was just that they didn't grasp the concept of friends with benefits all too well; nor did they like it too much when I fucked off when they got clingy.

But she wasn't clingy at all - and we weren't friends with benefits either. I'd liked her since I'd first laid eyes on her; she was pretty and smart and confident but sometimes shy, and I did love the shy girls. And I could almost understand why she didn't want to sleep with me yet - she wasn't that sort of girl, but I'd known that already. It didn't stop me trying an act of gentle persuasion, but I'd known all along that wouldn't budge her. I did like just holding her, and I did like just lying with her, just talking with her, just messing around. It was all new to me, because I'd never been that kind of guy, but I don't think she knew how much change she was inspiring in me. I'd realised I didn't want to be with anyone but her, and that in itself was a huge step.

I felt almost proud.

Shifting to straighten so my back wasn't in the awkward position it had been in before, I frowned when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and pulled it out to check what was going down. I had a text - and my mouth went suddenly dry when I saw who it was from.

Hey Z, long time no see…I heard you were touring ;) x -Valentina

Fuck. I glanced nervously at Scarlet before I texted back, making no attempt to appear overly friendly. So much for my loverly-doverly thoughts back there - here was the one girl with the potential to persuade me otherwise.

Yeah. Why? -Z

The reply was almost instant, and I groaned quietly to myself

You're doing a show round here, yeah? Thought you might like to remember old times, if you know what I mean x -Valentina

I can't. I have a girlfriend, `Tina. -Z

Shit, that could have been phrased better. `I don't want to. I have a girlfriend, `Tina.' would have been far better clarification.

She doesn't have to know ;) x -Valentina

I couldn't help it. I remembered her pretty much perfectly - Valentina was a gorgeous girl; some exotic mix of her Japanese mother and Spanish father. It was never a combination I'd have expected to go together well, but she suited it perfectly - she'd inherited her mother's skin, pale and fair and beautiful, and her father's features; dark brown hair that she'd had cut short and spiked into disarray, deep brown almond-shaped doe eyes and thin, well-shaped lips on a heart-shaped face. For one night only, the last time I'd been round her way, her body had been my wonderland. And she clearly hadn't forgotten me. I frowned, glancing up briefly to check Scar was still with Matt as I texted back.

I'm not cheating on her. I really fucking like her. -Z

Aw, come on, Zack! You know what they say - ignorance is bliss; she's not gonna find out… x -Valentina

I sighed, gritting my teeth and glad as hell that nobody else was awake back here to witness my internal battle. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't really forget how awesome that night had been - but as much of a whore I was, I wasn't a cheater…I didn't want to hurt Scar…I just, I hadn't been with anyone since before I'd met her - and that was months ago. I really really fucking needed to get laid.

One time wouldn't hurt, would it? Not if she didn't know…

I'll think about it. -Z

Once again, that almost instant reply.

See you in a couple of days ;) xx -Valentina

Aw, fuck. Not the fucking kisses. One kiss could be considered friendly. Two fucking kisses meant I was already in a big fucking mess.


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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