(no subject)
Title: The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot
Author: xvanilla_cokex / tune out
Band: Avenged Sevenfold
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone mentioned in this story. Nor do I have any affiliation. It is all fiction, it is all in good fun. The title also is not mine, that belongs to the boys in Brand New.
Summary: [AU] America's Golden Boy is falling fast. Drugs, alcohol, sex, and photographers are all a daily part of his life. But can things turn around for this top model?
Date(s) Posted: 11/18/05, 11/21/05
“So, you promise you’re not going to do anything tonight?” You rolled your eyes and nodded, looking out the window of the limo as you fixed your fedora with your free hand, the other engulfed by Zacky’s nervous fingers.
“Zack, I promise.” You shrugged, sliding your hand out from his. You were irritable, you were tired, you felt like crap. Your body felt like it was falling apart and the last thing you wanted to do was fake a smile and be around all the people that cause you this bad habit in the first place. And here you were, trying to quit cold turkey because you had to keep out of rehab. You had two photo shoots in the five days since Christmas and in both of them, you were yelled at for how horrible you were looking. You sober, you miserable, you tired. On the bright side, Zacky still didn’t know about the bulimia, only the coke. God forbid you told him both your addictions in one night. But no coke meant he cut down on your alcohol intake, which meant you really had to resort to shoving your finger down your throat on a nightly basis.
“Baby…”
“Don’t ‘Baby’ me, Zacky, I’m not in the fucking mood.” You snapped as the limo stopped. “Now fucking smile and walk behind me, I have to appear single.” He looked at you with wide eyes, sighing and nodding.
“I’m sorry.” He lowered his voice and you faked a smile, climbing out of the limo as the door opened. You waved as the cameras around you flashed, showing off your white teeth as you made your way inside the exclusive club hosting Jimmy’s New Years Eve bash. Zacky hurried in after you, his hand finding yours. “That was horrible.” He looked up at you, his eyes wide. “Bri, please, can you just stop, tonight? Have some fun?”
“Fun? Fun? Okay, Zacky, you become really fucking dependent on something and then just stop out of the blue and you try and have fun. Give me a fucking break it’s been six days I’m still fucking detoxing from Christmas.” He sighed and looked down, sliding his hand from yours. You shook your head and slid your hand back in his, grabbing his other hand as well. “Zack, I’m sorry. This is just hard; I don’t mean to be taking it out on you. Forgive me?” You looked at him, widening your big brown eyes and he smiled some, his forehead leaning against yours.
“You know I do.”
“Good. Now I’m gonna go say hi to Jimmy and Matt, you go get yourself a drink, okay?” He smiled and you kissed his nose, squeezing his hand. He slipped away from you and you took a deep breath, walking to the stairs that led to the VIP area, flashing the security guard your smile before passing him. You made your way up the steps, panting and closing your eyes, the room spinning some, but you had to keep going. No one could know how bad you were right now, no one could know anything. You clung to the railing and pushed open the VIP door, flashing your winning grin at the people in the room. Jimmy sat at the center of the couch, a girl on her knees in front of him, her head buried into his lap, his legs spread. He grinned some at you, his blue eyes half lidded as he let out a low moan, pushing her head down further. He waved his other hand at the silver platter on the table in front of the couch, white lines of powder spread out, a dollar bill next to them. You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath, shaking your head. “Can’t, Jim. No more of that shit, I quit.” You nodded and looked forlornly at the platter, licking your lips.
“Mm come on. One hit wont kill you.” He grinned, pushing his hips up into her face. “Mm right there, come on, you’re a dirty slut, suck it.” He rolled his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. One of the girls slid off the couch and kneeled in front of the platter, taking a hit. She rolled her head back, closing her eyes tightly as a small trickle of blood ran down from her nose. She wiped it away and looked back at Jimmy, his eyes open wide as he bucked his hips up, screaming out his orgasm. You rolled your eyes and backed away towards the door.
“It will, man. Listen, I just wanted to say hey and I’m gonna head back downstairs. I’ve got someone waiting for me.”
“Mm. Mm Bri, wait.” He held up his hand, pushing the girls head away as he stuffed himself back inside his tight jeans. “A Christmas present.” He grinned and held up a finger, digging his other hand behind the couch. “Come here and let me give it to you.”
“I swear to God, Jimmy, if it’s cocaine…”
“It’s not, precious.” He grinned wider. “Close your eyes.” You did as you were told, your other senses telling you the girls around him were moving. A soft hand that smelled of cherries tied a piece of cloth over your eyes and you were pushed to sitting down on the couch. You huffed and felt extra weight on you, the scent of sex and cologne overpowering your nose.
“Hi Jimmy.”
“Hush, don’t speak.” His lips were close to your ear and he grabbed your arm, tying something around your elbow.
“Jimmy, stop, let me go.” You wiggled some and he pinned your shoulders back as soft hands coaxed up your arms. “Jimmy. Jimmy, stop it. Let me go, Zacky’s waiting downstairs…”
“Oh is that his name?” He cooed and something sharp pricked your pulsing skin underneath the tie on your elbow, poking into your vein.
“Jesus Christ!” You let out a yelp, beginning to gasp for breath as you wiggled your head free of the blindfold, your eyes opening wide. “Oh fuck, Jimmy what are you doing to me?” You struggled, the blonde girl that had been on Jimmy’s side when you entered pushing down a needle into your arm. You looked back up at Jimmy, panting harder, your breath ragged.
“Introducing you to your new best friend.” He grinned, kissing your nose. “Heroin.”
Zacky was mad. No, Zacky was more than mad, Zacky was furious. The way he paced back and forth as you lay in bed, your eyes closed. You couldn’t tell him that your “best friend” had assaulted you and stuck a needle in you, so you let him believe that you went up there and snorted a line. It’s not like he could tell the difference between coke and smack, Zacky was far too innocent to know what that was like. But he knew the difference between you sober and you high as a kite and that’s what you were last night. You were bugged out, you were soaring. And now here you were, lying in bed, picking at your nails while your boyfriend screamed at you that you were destroying yourself. You wanted to yell back that it wasn’t your fault, but you couldn’t do that. All you could do was sit there and let him yell and sniff softly as the tears trickled down your cheeks. You didn’t bother to wipe at them, there was no point. Welcome to self-pity 101, your life was not going to get better, because everyone wanted to destroy you. You leaned your head back and looked up at the ceiling, shivering as you bit you lip, pulling the blanket up higher.
“Brian, are you even listening to me?” You nodded, returning your gaze back to him, giving out a soft hiccup.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where does sorry get you, Bri? You were doing well, you were six days sober. I was so proud…” He sighed and sat on the bed next to you, wiping away your tears.
“I’ll do better this time, I swear. I just… I just couldn’t do it.” You lied, wrapping your arms around him as you let out a sob. He slid his arms back around you, holding you tight, kissing your head, letting you sob on his shoulder. He thought it was just because you disappointed him, and that kept him holding you tighter, cooing into your hair that everything would be all right. But that small hole in your arm, the blood pumping through your veins… you knew that things were only beginning to get rough. He slid back slowly, running his fingers through your hair.
“I’ll make us some breakfast okay?”
“I’m not very hungry.” You shook your head, wiping at your cheeks with the palm of your hand.
“You should eat, Bri. Your face is getting really thin.”
“Zack, I’m fine. It’s just been a really crappy night and I just don’t have an appetite. Please, just come back to bed?” He nodded slowly and climbed up under the blankets with you, sliding his arms around you.
“Everything about you is changing and I’m worried.”
“Its just withdrawal, Zacky. I’ll be fine once I don’t need it anymore.” You closed your eyes, letting his chubby fingers rub over your skin. He nodded and let you lean on him, his lips tangling in your hair.
“I just… Bri, we’re just starting and already everything is going so wrong. I’m just… starting to wonder if you really need me or if you’re just latching onto me because I’m… well, I hate to say this, but pure.” You opened your eyes, looking up at him.
“Are you saying you want to leave?”
“No. No. Brian, I really like you, but you’re just… you’re a mess. I mean, how long have we been together and we’re already seeing the worst of everything. What if this is as good as it gets, what if after you get better you start thinking that we’re wrong for each other or something. I like you a lot, don’t get me wrong here. You’re an amazing person, but it’s hardly even been a month. What am I sticking around for?” You shrugged some, his words cutting into your heart.
“I don’t know, really. I can’t promise you anything, other than the fact that I like you, a lot. I like being around you and I want to make you happy. I like seeing you smile and shit. I know we don’t get to see each other a lot and I know it hasn’t been all that long. But what good things in this world do last for long. You can’t stare at a painting for a month and then say it’s beautiful. It’s beautiful from the moment you lay eyes on it, you were beautiful from the moment I laid eyes on you. We’ve had some good and bad in this past month, I know. But I’ve never taken anyone home before. I just hope that means something to you.” He chewed on his lip, nodding and staying quiet. He closed his eyes before reopening them slowly, leaning his head on yours.
“You’re amazing, Brian, you really are. You’re better than the drugs and the alcohol and the paparazzi. You’re so amazing and I wish I could fix you.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head. “I’m not leaving. I’m sticking around, because you’re so good, you’re too good to ever let go. I’d be making the biggest mistake of my life.” You couldn’t help but smile, because he was so right.
Sweat was dripping down your face and your vision was blurred. Jimmy stood next to you, his hand resting on your hip, the two of you posed in some awkward sexual position to sell clothes or something of the like. He was grinning whenever the cameras weren’t on the two of you, whenever someone yelled at you for being a mess today. That was all you heard lately, and you were about to snap. Jimmy just smiled and mussed at your hair, bringing your bangs to cover your sweating forehead as everyone cooed to him that he made a good move, your hair in your face made it look sexier, it covered how horrible you were doing right now. You pulled away and started into a coughing fit, flipping everyone off as they started to yell. You were gagging; you were choking on everything you hadn’t eaten in days. In just a week and a half you had already dropped at least five pounds, and you hadn’t even been having your protein shakes. It was nothing, you had no will to eat. You could go for hours and just sit there, letting everyone do what they wanted to you as you zoned out. But here you were, feeling as if you were sick, your stomach nauseous, your body sweating everywhere, your vision unfocused. You didn’t want to do this shoot, not alone, not with anybody, especially not with Jimmy.
He held up a hand and pulled on your arm, pulling you into your shared dressing room. You climbed onto the couch and whimpered; doing the coughing gag again, your eyes squeezed shut tightly. He grinned as he opened a bag, making sure the door was locked, and you opened your eyes slowly, looking up at him.
“Relax, Bri, you just need a fix. And that, my friend, I can supply.” Your eyes widened as you watched him lift objects out of a small plastic bag, his actions seeming so drawn out, as if you were watching him from underwater. Your eyes stung and you shivered, you were so hot and the room was so cold. You curled up tighter, your teeth chattering as you watched him pour some powder into a metal spoon. He held a lighter in his other hand, lighting it under the spoon, his eyes carefully watching the contents as they melted down into a fine liquid. He grinned some, licking his lips before pouring it into the syringe he had taken out, recapping it and crawling over to you. “So how is heroin, babe? I wouldn’t know, I’ve never tried it. Don’t want to be a fuckin junkie.” He grinned wider, reaching out to grab a rubber glove out of the bag, tying it around your thick arm. You winced at how tight it was, your vein popping out, making his target so much easier. You closed your eyes and looked away as he slid the point of the needle into your arm, pressing his thumb down on the edge of the syringe, injecting the drug into your bloodstream. You let out a cry and opened your eyes wide, looking at him as he pulled the empty syringe back, stuffing it back into the bag with his other instruments. He pulled the glove off and you rubbed at your arm, curling up and sniffing, wiping at the hot tears that cascaded down your cheeks. Your fingers slid over the hole, wiping at the small trickle of blood, your heart thumping in your chest. You looked up at him slowly, your vision clearing, your small lips curling into a smirk. He grinned back at you as he slid his hand into the pocket of your jeans, hanging up on the back of your chair with your faded black metallica tee shirt. He pulled out your wallet, grabbing a few bills before closing it, stuffing it back into your jeans. You lay back on the couch, blinking and letting out a low giggle, rubbing at your stomach. “Clean up your arm, Brian, don’t want our top model looking like a junkie at our big photo shoot.” He grinned, walking over to you before pressing his lips lightly to yours. All you could do was grin and kiss him back.
“So, what are those?” Zacky pointed to the bruises littering your neck. You shrugged, trying to adjust your scarf, sipping at your coffee. You pushed your sunglasses up your nose, looking over at him as he slipped his hands back into the pockets of his tight jeans, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. The two of you walked along the New York City Street, you sipping coffee and smoking a cigarette, him looking for something to photograph.
“I told you, Jimmy got a little too into the photo shoot. It’s nothing baby.” You smiled at him, dropping your cigarette and sliding your arm around his shoulder. “You know I’d never cheat on you.” You could have been an actor with all the lies you told. Truth was, you had cheated on Zacky, and the hickies on your neck were Jimmy’s way of marking you. Makeup had a fit when the two of you came out of the dressing room, the bruises covering your body from Jimmy’s brutal fucking. You hadn’t meant for anything to happen, but you couldn’t control yourself and Jimmy never would. You could only think of the stories that were floating all over the Internet spread by the word of the people on that shoot. But Zacky just smiled up at you, pressing his lips softly to yours.
“Baby, stand over by that tree and light another cigarette. I want to try out one of my new lenses on you.” He beamed and you just smiled and nodded, pulling your pack of cigarettes out of your pocket as you leaned against the tree, listening to his bag rustle as he pulled the camera out, playing with the different lenses. You pulled one out and grabbed your lighter, lighting it slowly, listening to the click of his camera. You knew better than to smile at him, pictures were all about the angst and anguish you were dealing with. But you looked up at him anyway and you could see his teeth from behind the bulky black camera, and you smiled for him, your face brightening. He grinned wider and kept clicking, capturing this raw, friendly you. You laughed softly and shook your head, holding out your hand for him.
“Zacky, come here.” He nodded and obliged and you pulled the camera from his hand slowly. You pulled him back and kissed his cheek, holding out your arm, taking a picture of it. He giggled and you kept clicking the shutter button, your lips moving across his face. His small chubby fingers stole your cigarette from yours and you took a picture of your tongue in his ear, his lips curled around the cigarette as if he was sucking on a lemon. And you pulled back and laughed, handing him back his camera. If only heroin made you feel half as good as this did.
Your breath tasted of vomit and your eyes flickered as you stumbled from the elevator to Jimmy’s door. Or at least what you thought was Jimmy’s door, your eyes no longer worked and all you needed was a quick hit. A quick fix, just something to get you through the next two weeks. Something to take away the headaches and the nausea and just the all around sick way you continued to feel. You knocked roughly on the door, leaning your head against the wood as you panted, licking your dry cracked lips. You couldn’t count the pounds you were shedding anymore; your once muscular frame was now becoming all too thin and all too ruined. It had been two weeks since your last modeling job and Johnny was mad at you, because you not making money meant him not making money. And that’s all this world was about, that’s all these people surrounding you cared about. Money. Being the best. Things you no longer wanted, all you wanted was to get rid of this, to cure your fixes, and Zacky. Yeah, Zacky and heroin, and your life would be set.
The door swung open and Jimmy stared you down, his forehead sweaty, his body naked. His gaze softened as he realized it was you, his face breaking out into a grin.
“Brian, sweetheart, so glad you’re here. Let me guess, you need more heroin?” You nodded slowly at him, your hands shaking as you whimpered, your brown eyes meeting his own blue. He grabbed your shirt and pulled you into his apartment, much less lavish than your own. You could think that once upon a time, he lived like you did, but now he was much less important, much like you were becoming. You couldn’t blame him for poisoning your blood to get you back. Not only were you destroying yourself to give him more modeling jobs, but you were also supplying him with a lot of money. You looked around, your palms sweating.
“Jimmy, hurry, please? I need it, I need it so bad.” You looked at him, still shaking. You were back in LA, but just for a few days. You told Zacky you had some press function to attend, but he had to stay in New York and finish his series of photo shoots. Everyone wanted Zacky as their photographer since his set of you had been released. That set he had done that day after the two of you had met, the one that brought you back to earth.
“Hold your horses…” He laughed and shrugged. “Heroin joke. You sure do like the Horse, dontcha, Brian.” He grinned and pulled you into his bedroom, two girls sitting there naked. They grinned at your seductively and you could tell they were stoned, their eyes were red and glossy. You shook your head and they leaned over and kissed each other, their eyes never leaving you. You whimpered and looked at Jimmy, rubbing over the small hole still in your left arm, chewing on your lip.
“Jimmy…” You pleaded with him as he pulled open a drawer, gathering himself together.
“In the bathroom, come on.” He nodded and started walking towards it and you followed him quickly, leaving the two girls alone. He closed the door after you and slid the seat down and you sat down graciously, beginning to rock back and forth. You breath was ragged and beads of sweat poured down your face, matting your bangs to your forehead. You started to cough again, feeling the bile and stomach acid rising in your throat as you leaned forward. “No puking on my floor, you got me?” He flicked the needle with his finger, looking down at you. You nodded and he tied your arm quickly. “You have my money, right?”
“Of course I have the money, just please, Jimmy, I’m fucking dying here.” He nodded and grinned, injecting the needle into your vein. You leaned your head back, your eyes fluttering shut. A soothing feeling of relief passed over you and you smiled, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Your teeth slid around your lip, your mouth opening and closing slowly, a low moan emitting from your mouth. Jimmy slid the needle back and tossed it into the garbage, smacking both your cheeks lightly.
“Good boy, that feels good huh?” You nodded slowly, grinning wider. “Now give me my money so I can get back to my girls.” You let out a laugh and stood up slowly, pulling your wallet out of the back pocket of your Italian leather pants.
“How much?”
“One thou.” You let out a breath and opened it, counting out the amount you had in your wallet. You pulled them out and handed them over to his waiting hand, leaving your wallet with a single fifty-dollar bill. So much for you buying another hit while you were here. “It’s only so much because I gave you the good stuff this time, baby. This is the stuff that dreams are fucking made of. Now get home to your little… Zacky was his name? I’m sure he’s waiting for you.” You nodded slowly, and he opened the door. You stumbled out and grinned, waving at the two naked girls on the bed.
“Goodnight ladies.” And with that, you were out the door.
Maybe you should have gone straight home. Maybe blowing your last fifty dollars on shots was a bad idea, but it tasted so good, and you didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t want to hear from Johnny how bad you were, you just wanted to drink and be happy. Zacky wasn’t around, not that you would have gone to him as high as you were anyway. And Matt would never approve of you being so high around him, especially not with his pregnant wife around, the one that grew bigger every time you saw her. She was always glowing; you wanted to glow like that.
But you had gone drinking, you had drunk too much. You mind was clouded and your heart raced, and all you needed to do was vomit. You giggled some and stumbled to a tree, leaning over on it as you coughed, that gagging cough you knew all too well. But the coughing wasn’t doing it, so you stuck your finger inside your mouth. Hitting the back of your throat you felt your stomach rising, upchucking the liquid contents onto the flowers around the tree. You leaned your head against the bark, the same bark you could taste on your fingers. You slumped down, hearing your expensive leather pants squish against the wet dirt and your vomit, groaning softly. It was too much to move, you didn’t want to. All you wanted was for this to be over, to go back into Zacky’s arms, to sleep with him again. You wanted to feel the way he made you feel, and no amount of substances could replace him in your heart.
Your eyes cracked open in the blinding light and all you could do was cough. You tried to lift you hands to rub at your eyes, but they were restrained. You were lying in a bed with bright lights all around you, your body feeling still and bruised. You moved your legs slowly, the cool feel of leather not found. You cracked your eyes open as much as you could, swallowing thickly and letting your eyes adjust to the light.
“Good fucking morning, sleeping beauty.” Johnny’s voice rang out and your eardrums felt as if they were going to fall off with how loud he seemed.
“Jesus Christ, where am I?”
“The hospital, Brian. And you’re goddamn lucky I fucking made a deal with the cops to get you out of jail.” He leaned over you, blocking the light from your eyes. For once, you were really glad to know Johnny.
“Jail? Why was I in…”
“Jesus Christ, Brian, how the hell could you do that? Just get high as all fucking hell and drunk and pass out in public? Do you know what this just did to your career? Because it’s on the page of every fucking newspaper in town, that’s how I found the fuck out. My fucking top model in jail because he’s a fucking drunk and a fucking junkie.” Your eyes widened and your breathing accelerated.
“Oh my god, Zacky can’t find out.”
“Zacky can’t find out! Zacky can’t find out!” Johnny’s laugh rang out menacingly. “How could he not know, the east coast papers have been out longer than ours! He knows, Brian, he left a million messages on your voicemail begging this not to be true. I’ve talked to him, sweetheart, your little precious Zacky knows all about how you tested positive for heroin. After we figure out the charges that are against you, you’re going straight to fucking rehab. And then we’ll try to pick up the pieces of this mess you made of your career.” You closed your eyes, letting a salty tear leak out, reopening them to look down at your handcuffed hand.
“My dad… my sister…”
“I pity the fuck out of them, Brian. You ruined everything.” All you could do was nod. Because you did, you really did ruin everything.
The blinding flashes of paparazzi photographers’ cameras were gone now and all you had was this room. This small room with a cot for a bed and a small window. This was court appointed rehab, this is all you had gotten for that one night. It was the deal that Johnny had told your lawyer to make and had gotten for you. They wanted you to give up the name of your dealer, but you couldn’t do that, no matter how much you would have loved to see Jimmy go up in flames with you. There were too many people on the dirty side of that business, too many bad things going on with the drugs and you didn’t want to get involved. After this, you were going to be clean. After this, you were going to sell your apartment and forget everything and finally settle down with Zacky. And he was going to love you sober, that’s all you had to keep telling yourself. Everyone was still going to love you, you Brian Haner Jr, America’s former top model.
Tears leaked down your pale cheeks as you sat up on your cot, looking at the woman dressed in pink as she stood in the doorway. The room had no door, just the space to get in and out of, open and see through.
“Brian, it’s time for group.” You nodded and stood up slowly, following her out of the room and down the hallway. You slid your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, one you stole from Zacky back in New York. It still smelled like him, warm and spicy, comforting. You walked into the room and sat down in one of the chairs set in the circle, looking around at the other people as they piled in. Addicts of all kinds, of drugs, of alcohol, of starving themselves. You were their superstar, you represented them all. The woman sat down next to you, holding a clipboard in her hand. She looked over the list of names and smiled at all the frowning faces she saw in front of her. “We’ll start off with you today, Mr. Haner. Firstly, say your name and why you’re here, and then tell us a bit about how you feel.” You sat up slowly; squaring your shoulders like you would at any press conference.
“Uh, my name is Brian Haner. Junior, actually.” You shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck some as all the eyes in the room were glued on you. “Um, lets see. I’ve been bulimic for about six or seven months now, I kind of stopped counting after awhile. When you’re in the spotlight all the time, everyone cares about how you look. And well, when you’re a model, it’s all about how you look. I needed to lose weight, I needed to be skinny. And that’s when one of my so-called friends introduced me to cocaine. Actually, everyone I was around pretty much stuffed the cocaine up my nose, there was really nothing I could do. They were all pretty much like, hey Brian, this is what you need to stay thin. And how could I argue with that when my looks are the only thing that made me famous.” You let out a nervous laugh, biting your lip. “But um, I was quitting the cocaine cold turkey. My boyf… my boyfriend… I told him about it. He made me feel safe, he made me happy. So I told him I would quit for him, and I did okay, I guess. I mean, I haven’t done cocaine in awhile. It was just… my friend, well, the first one who made me try cocaine; he got me into heroin about maybe a month and a half ago. I know that doesn’t seem like a long time, but for those of you who have never done heroin, it’s rough. Real rough. Once the first fix wore off, I needed more. I didn’t want it, I couldn’t function without it. So, I’m here to get over that too. It’s hard, because the withdrawal keeps me throwing up, which isn’t helping my bulimia much. As for how I’m feeling… I’m tired. I’m cranky. I miss people paying attention to me. I miss my family, I miss my boyfriend. I miss the people who actually cared about me. I’m scared out of my mind, because after this, what do I have out there for me? My family isn’t going to want me anymore, my career is over. Zacky… my boyfriend, his career is just lifting off. He’s a photographer, he’s gonna be really famous soon. He’s not going to want me around; I’ll be a freeloading ex junkie. I don’t want to be around that world anymore, either, it’s too easy to get everything. I want to keep myself as far away from everything as I can. I want a normal life now. But I’m not going to have anything to rely on. The only other thing I know how to do besides model is play guitar, and I haven’t even done that in forever. I can’t remember the last time I picked one up.”
“Who taught you how to play guitar, Brian?” The woman, her name tag read Sandra, looked at you, tapping her fingers on her clipboard. You shrugged some, having felt that you already spoke more than your share.
“My dad. The one I’m named after. He used to play for bands, he still does. He taught me when I was young, real young. My brother too, but my brother plays drums for this band. They’re like, real hardcore, real metal. Like we grew up listening to. I was gonna be in a band once, but then I got into this whole modeling gig and… everything spun out of control.” You looked down, chewing on your chapped lips before looking up at everyone in the room. You tapped your long fingers on your stomach and huddled closer into your hoodie, chewing harder on your lip.
“Thank you, Brian. Now who else wants to share…” Sandra moved on, and you moved your gaze down at your shoes. This was going to take longer than you thought.
You sat on the swing set, kicking your legs in the air as the cool May night air breezed all around you. Hard to believe this time last year you were hunched over someone’s coffee table, taking a hit of cocaine and promising yourself that you were forever America’s golden boy. And here you were now, watching your father and your stepmother and your little sister on the playground as the sun set behind you, fresh from rehab. You had stayed longer than everyone intended you to stay, but your heroin addiction had caused more damage to your bulimia and there was no way you could leave after just a few mere weeks.
“You look good.” You turned your head some, squinting at the figure as the wind whipped your shoulder length brown hair towards your eyes. “Healthy.” The figure moved and sat down next to you, beginning to swing his legs. You looked down, chewing on your small lip, nodding.
“Thanks Zack.” You tilted your head back up to look at him, looking him over. His face was set and his eyes scanned the playground, finding your family. You curled your face into a small smile, blinking back tears. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“I’ve been better.” He gave you a shrug, turning his head to look at you. His green eyes met yours and you shook your gaze from his, looking back down at the ground, letting the wind whip your hair around more.
“How did you know to find me here?”
“Your dad called me. Asked me if I wouldn’t mind visiting and talking to you for a while. He said you needed it. And I needed closure.”
“I’m really sorry. I swear, I never meant to hurt you. And I tried to call you…”
“After Johnny… he’s your manager, right? Yeah, well, after Johnny called me the first day, I just kind of thought it would be best if I didn’t talk to you anymore. I was really mad and really hurt and I kind of just broke down that day. I let you really hurt me and I didn’t need that. Not when I had so much going on. So, I pushed you out of my life. I think it was the best thing for the both of us.” You shrugged and looked away from him, brushing your hand up to your cheek to wipe away a hot tear.
“For you, I guess. I thought about you the whole time I was in there. I couldn’t wait to see you when I got out. I don’t know, I had this crazy dream in my head that you’d pick me up from there and like, you’d tell me how sorry you were for not answering my calls and everything would be fine.”
“That’s not how the world works, Brian. You showed me that.”
“And I am so, so sorry, Zacky.” You looked at him and he looked back at you, his eyes locked on yours as you started to choke on your words. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was trying to stop for you and Jimmy…”
“Jimmy told me everything. I worked with him not long after you were in rehab and he told me everything. How you used his party as an excuse to shoot up with some of the girls there. And how you kept begging him to shoot up with you and…”
“Zacky, you really believed his horse shit?” Your voice rose, choking back a laugh, mixing with your tears.
“He apologized for fucking you while you were with me. He said I was too good to deserve that. And I may not have believed him on the other stuff, because I knew you better than that, Brian. But, I know he wasn’t lying about fucking you while you were with me.” You lowered your head and nodded.
“Can I just explain myself, Zack? Can you listen to my side of the story?” He nodded, his stony eyes watching you as your fingers curled around the metal links of the swing. You took a deep breath, licking at your lips. “He got me hooked on everything. From the beginning. The sex, the drugs. I wasn’t like that when I first started that career. I was different, I was innocent. I just wanted to have a good time, I just wanted to be young and look good and get what I wanted. And he started me on cocaine. He told me it would make me better; it would keep me good looking for longer. And I wanted that more than anything, I wanted that career. So, I listened to him. And that was my first mistake. I was doing coke for years before we met, Zack. Years. I’d do anything for a fix of coke, whatever I had to do. And I was stopping for you, I wanted to stop. I wanted out of everything, I just wanted to be in love with you.” You paused and wiped at your cheeks with your wrist, sniffing and looking back to him. He stared intently at you, letting his own tears stream down his full cheeks. You swallowed thickly and began again. “But the New Years party, when you thought I went up there to just get high, I didn’t mean to. He ambushed me, he had his girls all over me and he was all over me and all of a sudden, it was in me. And there was nothing I could do, I didn’t want to start heroin, Zacky, I was stopping to cocaine for you. I didn’t want it. Once I was okay without the cocaine, I was gonna tell you about the bulimia…”
“Did you really think I didn’t notice that, Bri? How thin you were? How you never ate? How when something did actually go through your mouth, you were magically in the bathroom only a few minutes later? You think I didn’t hear you every time you threw up?” His voice cracked and he looked away from you, up towards the sky. “I’m not that fucking dumb, Brian.” You sighed and swallowed slowly.
“I wanted to be better for you. I wanted us to be like the story we told Mckenna on Christmas, Zacky. I wanted us to…”
“That was just a story, Brian.” He snapped, wiping at his eyes. “This is real life. In real life, no one ever lives happily ever after. You get old, and you die.”
“Zacky, please.” You choked, closing your eyes. “Please, just, listen to me. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I couldn’t stop it. And when we did that shoot together, he just… he knew I needed it. He just wanted to ruin me, Zacky, he told me so. I took away his career, so he wanted to take away mine. He gave me more, and then he… did that. I mean, I know I’m at fault there too, because I didn’t say no. But, before you freak out on me, had I been sober, I would have. I don’t want him, I never wanted him. I would have done anything for you, god, I still would.” You swallowed again, looking over at him. “When we were in New York, I couldn’t have been happier. You just made things perfect, you made me feel as if nothing could ever hurt me. Nothing would ever hurt me. And I loved that, I loved how it wasn’t just me in love with you, it was you just as in love with me. You were happy too, you can’t deny that.” He nodded some and leaned his head forward into his hands, dropping a manila envelope on the dirt. You averted your eyes from it and looked forward again.
“But I had to go back. I needed more, and I couldn’t show you. So I went back to him and I got more. And I went out and I drank myself stupid and when I passed out… where ever the fuck I did, all I was thinking about was you. And when I found out that everyone knew, the only thing I worried about was what you would think of me. I loved you, Zacky; I’m still in love with you. The only thing I could worry about in rehab was how you’d view me. I kept asking my therapist if you’d still want me now that I have weight. Now that I’m still this mess and I have no career and I have nothing going for me. I kept asking her if all you wanted was Brian Haner the model or Brian Haner the guy. Please tell me it’s the guy, Zacky, please tell me that’s what you want.” He shook his head, standing up slowly.
“I don’t want you at all, Brian.” He leaned down and picked up the envelope, wiping at his eyes. Your mouth dropped open and you let your breath come in soft pants, your shaking hands clutching the metal links of the chain tightly. “I’ve been seeing someone else.” He nodded and wiped his cheeks on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, embellished with the name of some designer. You looked him over, his expensive jeans, his comfortable Italian leather shoes. He had the look of the world you left behind. And here you were in jeans and a sweatshirt of your favorite old band, something you hadn’t worn since high school.
“Who?” You croaked out, letting your tongue slide over your cracked lips. He lowered his head, his voice low.
“Jimmy.”
“No. No.” You shook your head, standing up slowly. “Please tell me you’re joking, please, Zacky. Please.” He backed up from you, shaking his head back.
“I’m serious. I care about him a lot, Brian, and he cares about me too. He’s really good to me. I mean, he’s a fucking liar, but I didn’t want to be alone after what you did to me. And he was there and… I can do what I want and he can do what he wants, but he always comes back to me. And I’ll come back to him.” He nodded and turned away some. “I… I should get going. But, I brought you these. I didn’t want them anymore. But maybe you will.” He sniffed and thrust the envelope out at you. Your shaking hands took it, swallowing thickly as he wiped both his hand under his eyes. “I’ll call you the next time I’m in town, I have a shoot in London in a few days. I… maybe we can have lunch or something. That is, if you eat now.” He looked down and started away as you nodded, your heart shattering into a million pieces. You sat down on the swing again, you hands shaking as you lifted the small metal fastener open, sliding your hand in the envelope.
Your hand emerged slowly with the contents, small tear droplets falling onto the envelope as you sniffed. In your hand were black and white pictures, pictures of you smoking against a tree. Another of you smiling slowly up at the camera. More pictures, more of the same, so glossy and professional, just like any other shot of you. Another picture of you. And then behind it, a picture of your lips on his cheek, his smile wide. His lips wrapped around a cigarette and your own pressed against his ear. More pictures of the two of you together, the two of you happy.
With a shaky breath you looked forward, towards your father and your stepmother and your nine-year-old little half sister walking towards you. You wiped at your cheeks and stood up on the swings, stuffing the folder back together. Forcing a smile you walked towards them, waving some.
“Was that…” Your father started and you cut him off, nodding.
“It was.”
“Where’d he go?”
“London.” You nodded, stuffing the folder under your arm. “He won’t be back, Dad. He said he would, but in that business, someone’s word is only as good as the paper it’s written on.”
“Bri Bri, move your arm, I want to read what it says!” Mckenna pushed at your arm, stealing the envelope out from your grip. She brushed it off and your stepmother went to reprimand her, but you stopped her.
“What’s it say ‘Kenna?” You kneeled down, looking at her as she beamed.
“It says… ‘I’ll be back for you someday’.” She beamed and lowered it. “What’s inside?”
You couldn’t help but smile, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around her tight, sniffing.
“All my hopes and dreams.”
And in the glare of the sunlight, you saw Zacky wipe at his eyes before climbing into his car, and you could have sworn that you saw a hint of him smiling.
-end-
Author: xvanilla_cokex / tune out
Band: Avenged Sevenfold
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone mentioned in this story. Nor do I have any affiliation. It is all fiction, it is all in good fun. The title also is not mine, that belongs to the boys in Brand New.
Summary: [AU] America's Golden Boy is falling fast. Drugs, alcohol, sex, and photographers are all a daily part of his life. But can things turn around for this top model?
Date(s) Posted: 11/18/05, 11/21/05
“So, you promise you’re not going to do anything tonight?” You rolled your eyes and nodded, looking out the window of the limo as you fixed your fedora with your free hand, the other engulfed by Zacky’s nervous fingers.
“Zack, I promise.” You shrugged, sliding your hand out from his. You were irritable, you were tired, you felt like crap. Your body felt like it was falling apart and the last thing you wanted to do was fake a smile and be around all the people that cause you this bad habit in the first place. And here you were, trying to quit cold turkey because you had to keep out of rehab. You had two photo shoots in the five days since Christmas and in both of them, you were yelled at for how horrible you were looking. You sober, you miserable, you tired. On the bright side, Zacky still didn’t know about the bulimia, only the coke. God forbid you told him both your addictions in one night. But no coke meant he cut down on your alcohol intake, which meant you really had to resort to shoving your finger down your throat on a nightly basis.
“Baby…”
“Don’t ‘Baby’ me, Zacky, I’m not in the fucking mood.” You snapped as the limo stopped. “Now fucking smile and walk behind me, I have to appear single.” He looked at you with wide eyes, sighing and nodding.
“I’m sorry.” He lowered his voice and you faked a smile, climbing out of the limo as the door opened. You waved as the cameras around you flashed, showing off your white teeth as you made your way inside the exclusive club hosting Jimmy’s New Years Eve bash. Zacky hurried in after you, his hand finding yours. “That was horrible.” He looked up at you, his eyes wide. “Bri, please, can you just stop, tonight? Have some fun?”
“Fun? Fun? Okay, Zacky, you become really fucking dependent on something and then just stop out of the blue and you try and have fun. Give me a fucking break it’s been six days I’m still fucking detoxing from Christmas.” He sighed and looked down, sliding his hand from yours. You shook your head and slid your hand back in his, grabbing his other hand as well. “Zack, I’m sorry. This is just hard; I don’t mean to be taking it out on you. Forgive me?” You looked at him, widening your big brown eyes and he smiled some, his forehead leaning against yours.
“You know I do.”
“Good. Now I’m gonna go say hi to Jimmy and Matt, you go get yourself a drink, okay?” He smiled and you kissed his nose, squeezing his hand. He slipped away from you and you took a deep breath, walking to the stairs that led to the VIP area, flashing the security guard your smile before passing him. You made your way up the steps, panting and closing your eyes, the room spinning some, but you had to keep going. No one could know how bad you were right now, no one could know anything. You clung to the railing and pushed open the VIP door, flashing your winning grin at the people in the room. Jimmy sat at the center of the couch, a girl on her knees in front of him, her head buried into his lap, his legs spread. He grinned some at you, his blue eyes half lidded as he let out a low moan, pushing her head down further. He waved his other hand at the silver platter on the table in front of the couch, white lines of powder spread out, a dollar bill next to them. You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath, shaking your head. “Can’t, Jim. No more of that shit, I quit.” You nodded and looked forlornly at the platter, licking your lips.
“Mm come on. One hit wont kill you.” He grinned, pushing his hips up into her face. “Mm right there, come on, you’re a dirty slut, suck it.” He rolled his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. One of the girls slid off the couch and kneeled in front of the platter, taking a hit. She rolled her head back, closing her eyes tightly as a small trickle of blood ran down from her nose. She wiped it away and looked back at Jimmy, his eyes open wide as he bucked his hips up, screaming out his orgasm. You rolled your eyes and backed away towards the door.
“It will, man. Listen, I just wanted to say hey and I’m gonna head back downstairs. I’ve got someone waiting for me.”
“Mm. Mm Bri, wait.” He held up his hand, pushing the girls head away as he stuffed himself back inside his tight jeans. “A Christmas present.” He grinned and held up a finger, digging his other hand behind the couch. “Come here and let me give it to you.”
“I swear to God, Jimmy, if it’s cocaine…”
“It’s not, precious.” He grinned wider. “Close your eyes.” You did as you were told, your other senses telling you the girls around him were moving. A soft hand that smelled of cherries tied a piece of cloth over your eyes and you were pushed to sitting down on the couch. You huffed and felt extra weight on you, the scent of sex and cologne overpowering your nose.
“Hi Jimmy.”
“Hush, don’t speak.” His lips were close to your ear and he grabbed your arm, tying something around your elbow.
“Jimmy, stop, let me go.” You wiggled some and he pinned your shoulders back as soft hands coaxed up your arms. “Jimmy. Jimmy, stop it. Let me go, Zacky’s waiting downstairs…”
“Oh is that his name?” He cooed and something sharp pricked your pulsing skin underneath the tie on your elbow, poking into your vein.
“Jesus Christ!” You let out a yelp, beginning to gasp for breath as you wiggled your head free of the blindfold, your eyes opening wide. “Oh fuck, Jimmy what are you doing to me?” You struggled, the blonde girl that had been on Jimmy’s side when you entered pushing down a needle into your arm. You looked back up at Jimmy, panting harder, your breath ragged.
“Introducing you to your new best friend.” He grinned, kissing your nose. “Heroin.”
Zacky was mad. No, Zacky was more than mad, Zacky was furious. The way he paced back and forth as you lay in bed, your eyes closed. You couldn’t tell him that your “best friend” had assaulted you and stuck a needle in you, so you let him believe that you went up there and snorted a line. It’s not like he could tell the difference between coke and smack, Zacky was far too innocent to know what that was like. But he knew the difference between you sober and you high as a kite and that’s what you were last night. You were bugged out, you were soaring. And now here you were, lying in bed, picking at your nails while your boyfriend screamed at you that you were destroying yourself. You wanted to yell back that it wasn’t your fault, but you couldn’t do that. All you could do was sit there and let him yell and sniff softly as the tears trickled down your cheeks. You didn’t bother to wipe at them, there was no point. Welcome to self-pity 101, your life was not going to get better, because everyone wanted to destroy you. You leaned your head back and looked up at the ceiling, shivering as you bit you lip, pulling the blanket up higher.
“Brian, are you even listening to me?” You nodded, returning your gaze back to him, giving out a soft hiccup.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where does sorry get you, Bri? You were doing well, you were six days sober. I was so proud…” He sighed and sat on the bed next to you, wiping away your tears.
“I’ll do better this time, I swear. I just… I just couldn’t do it.” You lied, wrapping your arms around him as you let out a sob. He slid his arms back around you, holding you tight, kissing your head, letting you sob on his shoulder. He thought it was just because you disappointed him, and that kept him holding you tighter, cooing into your hair that everything would be all right. But that small hole in your arm, the blood pumping through your veins… you knew that things were only beginning to get rough. He slid back slowly, running his fingers through your hair.
“I’ll make us some breakfast okay?”
“I’m not very hungry.” You shook your head, wiping at your cheeks with the palm of your hand.
“You should eat, Bri. Your face is getting really thin.”
“Zack, I’m fine. It’s just been a really crappy night and I just don’t have an appetite. Please, just come back to bed?” He nodded slowly and climbed up under the blankets with you, sliding his arms around you.
“Everything about you is changing and I’m worried.”
“Its just withdrawal, Zacky. I’ll be fine once I don’t need it anymore.” You closed your eyes, letting his chubby fingers rub over your skin. He nodded and let you lean on him, his lips tangling in your hair.
“I just… Bri, we’re just starting and already everything is going so wrong. I’m just… starting to wonder if you really need me or if you’re just latching onto me because I’m… well, I hate to say this, but pure.” You opened your eyes, looking up at him.
“Are you saying you want to leave?”
“No. No. Brian, I really like you, but you’re just… you’re a mess. I mean, how long have we been together and we’re already seeing the worst of everything. What if this is as good as it gets, what if after you get better you start thinking that we’re wrong for each other or something. I like you a lot, don’t get me wrong here. You’re an amazing person, but it’s hardly even been a month. What am I sticking around for?” You shrugged some, his words cutting into your heart.
“I don’t know, really. I can’t promise you anything, other than the fact that I like you, a lot. I like being around you and I want to make you happy. I like seeing you smile and shit. I know we don’t get to see each other a lot and I know it hasn’t been all that long. But what good things in this world do last for long. You can’t stare at a painting for a month and then say it’s beautiful. It’s beautiful from the moment you lay eyes on it, you were beautiful from the moment I laid eyes on you. We’ve had some good and bad in this past month, I know. But I’ve never taken anyone home before. I just hope that means something to you.” He chewed on his lip, nodding and staying quiet. He closed his eyes before reopening them slowly, leaning his head on yours.
“You’re amazing, Brian, you really are. You’re better than the drugs and the alcohol and the paparazzi. You’re so amazing and I wish I could fix you.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head. “I’m not leaving. I’m sticking around, because you’re so good, you’re too good to ever let go. I’d be making the biggest mistake of my life.” You couldn’t help but smile, because he was so right.
Sweat was dripping down your face and your vision was blurred. Jimmy stood next to you, his hand resting on your hip, the two of you posed in some awkward sexual position to sell clothes or something of the like. He was grinning whenever the cameras weren’t on the two of you, whenever someone yelled at you for being a mess today. That was all you heard lately, and you were about to snap. Jimmy just smiled and mussed at your hair, bringing your bangs to cover your sweating forehead as everyone cooed to him that he made a good move, your hair in your face made it look sexier, it covered how horrible you were doing right now. You pulled away and started into a coughing fit, flipping everyone off as they started to yell. You were gagging; you were choking on everything you hadn’t eaten in days. In just a week and a half you had already dropped at least five pounds, and you hadn’t even been having your protein shakes. It was nothing, you had no will to eat. You could go for hours and just sit there, letting everyone do what they wanted to you as you zoned out. But here you were, feeling as if you were sick, your stomach nauseous, your body sweating everywhere, your vision unfocused. You didn’t want to do this shoot, not alone, not with anybody, especially not with Jimmy.
He held up a hand and pulled on your arm, pulling you into your shared dressing room. You climbed onto the couch and whimpered; doing the coughing gag again, your eyes squeezed shut tightly. He grinned as he opened a bag, making sure the door was locked, and you opened your eyes slowly, looking up at him.
“Relax, Bri, you just need a fix. And that, my friend, I can supply.” Your eyes widened as you watched him lift objects out of a small plastic bag, his actions seeming so drawn out, as if you were watching him from underwater. Your eyes stung and you shivered, you were so hot and the room was so cold. You curled up tighter, your teeth chattering as you watched him pour some powder into a metal spoon. He held a lighter in his other hand, lighting it under the spoon, his eyes carefully watching the contents as they melted down into a fine liquid. He grinned some, licking his lips before pouring it into the syringe he had taken out, recapping it and crawling over to you. “So how is heroin, babe? I wouldn’t know, I’ve never tried it. Don’t want to be a fuckin junkie.” He grinned wider, reaching out to grab a rubber glove out of the bag, tying it around your thick arm. You winced at how tight it was, your vein popping out, making his target so much easier. You closed your eyes and looked away as he slid the point of the needle into your arm, pressing his thumb down on the edge of the syringe, injecting the drug into your bloodstream. You let out a cry and opened your eyes wide, looking at him as he pulled the empty syringe back, stuffing it back into the bag with his other instruments. He pulled the glove off and you rubbed at your arm, curling up and sniffing, wiping at the hot tears that cascaded down your cheeks. Your fingers slid over the hole, wiping at the small trickle of blood, your heart thumping in your chest. You looked up at him slowly, your vision clearing, your small lips curling into a smirk. He grinned back at you as he slid his hand into the pocket of your jeans, hanging up on the back of your chair with your faded black metallica tee shirt. He pulled out your wallet, grabbing a few bills before closing it, stuffing it back into your jeans. You lay back on the couch, blinking and letting out a low giggle, rubbing at your stomach. “Clean up your arm, Brian, don’t want our top model looking like a junkie at our big photo shoot.” He grinned, walking over to you before pressing his lips lightly to yours. All you could do was grin and kiss him back.
“So, what are those?” Zacky pointed to the bruises littering your neck. You shrugged, trying to adjust your scarf, sipping at your coffee. You pushed your sunglasses up your nose, looking over at him as he slipped his hands back into the pockets of his tight jeans, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. The two of you walked along the New York City Street, you sipping coffee and smoking a cigarette, him looking for something to photograph.
“I told you, Jimmy got a little too into the photo shoot. It’s nothing baby.” You smiled at him, dropping your cigarette and sliding your arm around his shoulder. “You know I’d never cheat on you.” You could have been an actor with all the lies you told. Truth was, you had cheated on Zacky, and the hickies on your neck were Jimmy’s way of marking you. Makeup had a fit when the two of you came out of the dressing room, the bruises covering your body from Jimmy’s brutal fucking. You hadn’t meant for anything to happen, but you couldn’t control yourself and Jimmy never would. You could only think of the stories that were floating all over the Internet spread by the word of the people on that shoot. But Zacky just smiled up at you, pressing his lips softly to yours.
“Baby, stand over by that tree and light another cigarette. I want to try out one of my new lenses on you.” He beamed and you just smiled and nodded, pulling your pack of cigarettes out of your pocket as you leaned against the tree, listening to his bag rustle as he pulled the camera out, playing with the different lenses. You pulled one out and grabbed your lighter, lighting it slowly, listening to the click of his camera. You knew better than to smile at him, pictures were all about the angst and anguish you were dealing with. But you looked up at him anyway and you could see his teeth from behind the bulky black camera, and you smiled for him, your face brightening. He grinned wider and kept clicking, capturing this raw, friendly you. You laughed softly and shook your head, holding out your hand for him.
“Zacky, come here.” He nodded and obliged and you pulled the camera from his hand slowly. You pulled him back and kissed his cheek, holding out your arm, taking a picture of it. He giggled and you kept clicking the shutter button, your lips moving across his face. His small chubby fingers stole your cigarette from yours and you took a picture of your tongue in his ear, his lips curled around the cigarette as if he was sucking on a lemon. And you pulled back and laughed, handing him back his camera. If only heroin made you feel half as good as this did.
Your breath tasted of vomit and your eyes flickered as you stumbled from the elevator to Jimmy’s door. Or at least what you thought was Jimmy’s door, your eyes no longer worked and all you needed was a quick hit. A quick fix, just something to get you through the next two weeks. Something to take away the headaches and the nausea and just the all around sick way you continued to feel. You knocked roughly on the door, leaning your head against the wood as you panted, licking your dry cracked lips. You couldn’t count the pounds you were shedding anymore; your once muscular frame was now becoming all too thin and all too ruined. It had been two weeks since your last modeling job and Johnny was mad at you, because you not making money meant him not making money. And that’s all this world was about, that’s all these people surrounding you cared about. Money. Being the best. Things you no longer wanted, all you wanted was to get rid of this, to cure your fixes, and Zacky. Yeah, Zacky and heroin, and your life would be set.
The door swung open and Jimmy stared you down, his forehead sweaty, his body naked. His gaze softened as he realized it was you, his face breaking out into a grin.
“Brian, sweetheart, so glad you’re here. Let me guess, you need more heroin?” You nodded slowly at him, your hands shaking as you whimpered, your brown eyes meeting his own blue. He grabbed your shirt and pulled you into his apartment, much less lavish than your own. You could think that once upon a time, he lived like you did, but now he was much less important, much like you were becoming. You couldn’t blame him for poisoning your blood to get you back. Not only were you destroying yourself to give him more modeling jobs, but you were also supplying him with a lot of money. You looked around, your palms sweating.
“Jimmy, hurry, please? I need it, I need it so bad.” You looked at him, still shaking. You were back in LA, but just for a few days. You told Zacky you had some press function to attend, but he had to stay in New York and finish his series of photo shoots. Everyone wanted Zacky as their photographer since his set of you had been released. That set he had done that day after the two of you had met, the one that brought you back to earth.
“Hold your horses…” He laughed and shrugged. “Heroin joke. You sure do like the Horse, dontcha, Brian.” He grinned and pulled you into his bedroom, two girls sitting there naked. They grinned at your seductively and you could tell they were stoned, their eyes were red and glossy. You shook your head and they leaned over and kissed each other, their eyes never leaving you. You whimpered and looked at Jimmy, rubbing over the small hole still in your left arm, chewing on your lip.
“Jimmy…” You pleaded with him as he pulled open a drawer, gathering himself together.
“In the bathroom, come on.” He nodded and started walking towards it and you followed him quickly, leaving the two girls alone. He closed the door after you and slid the seat down and you sat down graciously, beginning to rock back and forth. You breath was ragged and beads of sweat poured down your face, matting your bangs to your forehead. You started to cough again, feeling the bile and stomach acid rising in your throat as you leaned forward. “No puking on my floor, you got me?” He flicked the needle with his finger, looking down at you. You nodded and he tied your arm quickly. “You have my money, right?”
“Of course I have the money, just please, Jimmy, I’m fucking dying here.” He nodded and grinned, injecting the needle into your vein. You leaned your head back, your eyes fluttering shut. A soothing feeling of relief passed over you and you smiled, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Your teeth slid around your lip, your mouth opening and closing slowly, a low moan emitting from your mouth. Jimmy slid the needle back and tossed it into the garbage, smacking both your cheeks lightly.
“Good boy, that feels good huh?” You nodded slowly, grinning wider. “Now give me my money so I can get back to my girls.” You let out a laugh and stood up slowly, pulling your wallet out of the back pocket of your Italian leather pants.
“How much?”
“One thou.” You let out a breath and opened it, counting out the amount you had in your wallet. You pulled them out and handed them over to his waiting hand, leaving your wallet with a single fifty-dollar bill. So much for you buying another hit while you were here. “It’s only so much because I gave you the good stuff this time, baby. This is the stuff that dreams are fucking made of. Now get home to your little… Zacky was his name? I’m sure he’s waiting for you.” You nodded slowly, and he opened the door. You stumbled out and grinned, waving at the two naked girls on the bed.
“Goodnight ladies.” And with that, you were out the door.
Maybe you should have gone straight home. Maybe blowing your last fifty dollars on shots was a bad idea, but it tasted so good, and you didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t want to hear from Johnny how bad you were, you just wanted to drink and be happy. Zacky wasn’t around, not that you would have gone to him as high as you were anyway. And Matt would never approve of you being so high around him, especially not with his pregnant wife around, the one that grew bigger every time you saw her. She was always glowing; you wanted to glow like that.
But you had gone drinking, you had drunk too much. You mind was clouded and your heart raced, and all you needed to do was vomit. You giggled some and stumbled to a tree, leaning over on it as you coughed, that gagging cough you knew all too well. But the coughing wasn’t doing it, so you stuck your finger inside your mouth. Hitting the back of your throat you felt your stomach rising, upchucking the liquid contents onto the flowers around the tree. You leaned your head against the bark, the same bark you could taste on your fingers. You slumped down, hearing your expensive leather pants squish against the wet dirt and your vomit, groaning softly. It was too much to move, you didn’t want to. All you wanted was for this to be over, to go back into Zacky’s arms, to sleep with him again. You wanted to feel the way he made you feel, and no amount of substances could replace him in your heart.
Your eyes cracked open in the blinding light and all you could do was cough. You tried to lift you hands to rub at your eyes, but they were restrained. You were lying in a bed with bright lights all around you, your body feeling still and bruised. You moved your legs slowly, the cool feel of leather not found. You cracked your eyes open as much as you could, swallowing thickly and letting your eyes adjust to the light.
“Good fucking morning, sleeping beauty.” Johnny’s voice rang out and your eardrums felt as if they were going to fall off with how loud he seemed.
“Jesus Christ, where am I?”
“The hospital, Brian. And you’re goddamn lucky I fucking made a deal with the cops to get you out of jail.” He leaned over you, blocking the light from your eyes. For once, you were really glad to know Johnny.
“Jail? Why was I in…”
“Jesus Christ, Brian, how the hell could you do that? Just get high as all fucking hell and drunk and pass out in public? Do you know what this just did to your career? Because it’s on the page of every fucking newspaper in town, that’s how I found the fuck out. My fucking top model in jail because he’s a fucking drunk and a fucking junkie.” Your eyes widened and your breathing accelerated.
“Oh my god, Zacky can’t find out.”
“Zacky can’t find out! Zacky can’t find out!” Johnny’s laugh rang out menacingly. “How could he not know, the east coast papers have been out longer than ours! He knows, Brian, he left a million messages on your voicemail begging this not to be true. I’ve talked to him, sweetheart, your little precious Zacky knows all about how you tested positive for heroin. After we figure out the charges that are against you, you’re going straight to fucking rehab. And then we’ll try to pick up the pieces of this mess you made of your career.” You closed your eyes, letting a salty tear leak out, reopening them to look down at your handcuffed hand.
“My dad… my sister…”
“I pity the fuck out of them, Brian. You ruined everything.” All you could do was nod. Because you did, you really did ruin everything.
The blinding flashes of paparazzi photographers’ cameras were gone now and all you had was this room. This small room with a cot for a bed and a small window. This was court appointed rehab, this is all you had gotten for that one night. It was the deal that Johnny had told your lawyer to make and had gotten for you. They wanted you to give up the name of your dealer, but you couldn’t do that, no matter how much you would have loved to see Jimmy go up in flames with you. There were too many people on the dirty side of that business, too many bad things going on with the drugs and you didn’t want to get involved. After this, you were going to be clean. After this, you were going to sell your apartment and forget everything and finally settle down with Zacky. And he was going to love you sober, that’s all you had to keep telling yourself. Everyone was still going to love you, you Brian Haner Jr, America’s former top model.
Tears leaked down your pale cheeks as you sat up on your cot, looking at the woman dressed in pink as she stood in the doorway. The room had no door, just the space to get in and out of, open and see through.
“Brian, it’s time for group.” You nodded and stood up slowly, following her out of the room and down the hallway. You slid your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, one you stole from Zacky back in New York. It still smelled like him, warm and spicy, comforting. You walked into the room and sat down in one of the chairs set in the circle, looking around at the other people as they piled in. Addicts of all kinds, of drugs, of alcohol, of starving themselves. You were their superstar, you represented them all. The woman sat down next to you, holding a clipboard in her hand. She looked over the list of names and smiled at all the frowning faces she saw in front of her. “We’ll start off with you today, Mr. Haner. Firstly, say your name and why you’re here, and then tell us a bit about how you feel.” You sat up slowly; squaring your shoulders like you would at any press conference.
“Uh, my name is Brian Haner. Junior, actually.” You shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck some as all the eyes in the room were glued on you. “Um, lets see. I’ve been bulimic for about six or seven months now, I kind of stopped counting after awhile. When you’re in the spotlight all the time, everyone cares about how you look. And well, when you’re a model, it’s all about how you look. I needed to lose weight, I needed to be skinny. And that’s when one of my so-called friends introduced me to cocaine. Actually, everyone I was around pretty much stuffed the cocaine up my nose, there was really nothing I could do. They were all pretty much like, hey Brian, this is what you need to stay thin. And how could I argue with that when my looks are the only thing that made me famous.” You let out a nervous laugh, biting your lip. “But um, I was quitting the cocaine cold turkey. My boyf… my boyfriend… I told him about it. He made me feel safe, he made me happy. So I told him I would quit for him, and I did okay, I guess. I mean, I haven’t done cocaine in awhile. It was just… my friend, well, the first one who made me try cocaine; he got me into heroin about maybe a month and a half ago. I know that doesn’t seem like a long time, but for those of you who have never done heroin, it’s rough. Real rough. Once the first fix wore off, I needed more. I didn’t want it, I couldn’t function without it. So, I’m here to get over that too. It’s hard, because the withdrawal keeps me throwing up, which isn’t helping my bulimia much. As for how I’m feeling… I’m tired. I’m cranky. I miss people paying attention to me. I miss my family, I miss my boyfriend. I miss the people who actually cared about me. I’m scared out of my mind, because after this, what do I have out there for me? My family isn’t going to want me anymore, my career is over. Zacky… my boyfriend, his career is just lifting off. He’s a photographer, he’s gonna be really famous soon. He’s not going to want me around; I’ll be a freeloading ex junkie. I don’t want to be around that world anymore, either, it’s too easy to get everything. I want to keep myself as far away from everything as I can. I want a normal life now. But I’m not going to have anything to rely on. The only other thing I know how to do besides model is play guitar, and I haven’t even done that in forever. I can’t remember the last time I picked one up.”
“Who taught you how to play guitar, Brian?” The woman, her name tag read Sandra, looked at you, tapping her fingers on her clipboard. You shrugged some, having felt that you already spoke more than your share.
“My dad. The one I’m named after. He used to play for bands, he still does. He taught me when I was young, real young. My brother too, but my brother plays drums for this band. They’re like, real hardcore, real metal. Like we grew up listening to. I was gonna be in a band once, but then I got into this whole modeling gig and… everything spun out of control.” You looked down, chewing on your chapped lips before looking up at everyone in the room. You tapped your long fingers on your stomach and huddled closer into your hoodie, chewing harder on your lip.
“Thank you, Brian. Now who else wants to share…” Sandra moved on, and you moved your gaze down at your shoes. This was going to take longer than you thought.
You sat on the swing set, kicking your legs in the air as the cool May night air breezed all around you. Hard to believe this time last year you were hunched over someone’s coffee table, taking a hit of cocaine and promising yourself that you were forever America’s golden boy. And here you were now, watching your father and your stepmother and your little sister on the playground as the sun set behind you, fresh from rehab. You had stayed longer than everyone intended you to stay, but your heroin addiction had caused more damage to your bulimia and there was no way you could leave after just a few mere weeks.
“You look good.” You turned your head some, squinting at the figure as the wind whipped your shoulder length brown hair towards your eyes. “Healthy.” The figure moved and sat down next to you, beginning to swing his legs. You looked down, chewing on your small lip, nodding.
“Thanks Zack.” You tilted your head back up to look at him, looking him over. His face was set and his eyes scanned the playground, finding your family. You curled your face into a small smile, blinking back tears. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“I’ve been better.” He gave you a shrug, turning his head to look at you. His green eyes met yours and you shook your gaze from his, looking back down at the ground, letting the wind whip your hair around more.
“How did you know to find me here?”
“Your dad called me. Asked me if I wouldn’t mind visiting and talking to you for a while. He said you needed it. And I needed closure.”
“I’m really sorry. I swear, I never meant to hurt you. And I tried to call you…”
“After Johnny… he’s your manager, right? Yeah, well, after Johnny called me the first day, I just kind of thought it would be best if I didn’t talk to you anymore. I was really mad and really hurt and I kind of just broke down that day. I let you really hurt me and I didn’t need that. Not when I had so much going on. So, I pushed you out of my life. I think it was the best thing for the both of us.” You shrugged and looked away from him, brushing your hand up to your cheek to wipe away a hot tear.
“For you, I guess. I thought about you the whole time I was in there. I couldn’t wait to see you when I got out. I don’t know, I had this crazy dream in my head that you’d pick me up from there and like, you’d tell me how sorry you were for not answering my calls and everything would be fine.”
“That’s not how the world works, Brian. You showed me that.”
“And I am so, so sorry, Zacky.” You looked at him and he looked back at you, his eyes locked on yours as you started to choke on your words. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was trying to stop for you and Jimmy…”
“Jimmy told me everything. I worked with him not long after you were in rehab and he told me everything. How you used his party as an excuse to shoot up with some of the girls there. And how you kept begging him to shoot up with you and…”
“Zacky, you really believed his horse shit?” Your voice rose, choking back a laugh, mixing with your tears.
“He apologized for fucking you while you were with me. He said I was too good to deserve that. And I may not have believed him on the other stuff, because I knew you better than that, Brian. But, I know he wasn’t lying about fucking you while you were with me.” You lowered your head and nodded.
“Can I just explain myself, Zack? Can you listen to my side of the story?” He nodded, his stony eyes watching you as your fingers curled around the metal links of the swing. You took a deep breath, licking at your lips. “He got me hooked on everything. From the beginning. The sex, the drugs. I wasn’t like that when I first started that career. I was different, I was innocent. I just wanted to have a good time, I just wanted to be young and look good and get what I wanted. And he started me on cocaine. He told me it would make me better; it would keep me good looking for longer. And I wanted that more than anything, I wanted that career. So, I listened to him. And that was my first mistake. I was doing coke for years before we met, Zack. Years. I’d do anything for a fix of coke, whatever I had to do. And I was stopping for you, I wanted to stop. I wanted out of everything, I just wanted to be in love with you.” You paused and wiped at your cheeks with your wrist, sniffing and looking back to him. He stared intently at you, letting his own tears stream down his full cheeks. You swallowed thickly and began again. “But the New Years party, when you thought I went up there to just get high, I didn’t mean to. He ambushed me, he had his girls all over me and he was all over me and all of a sudden, it was in me. And there was nothing I could do, I didn’t want to start heroin, Zacky, I was stopping to cocaine for you. I didn’t want it. Once I was okay without the cocaine, I was gonna tell you about the bulimia…”
“Did you really think I didn’t notice that, Bri? How thin you were? How you never ate? How when something did actually go through your mouth, you were magically in the bathroom only a few minutes later? You think I didn’t hear you every time you threw up?” His voice cracked and he looked away from you, up towards the sky. “I’m not that fucking dumb, Brian.” You sighed and swallowed slowly.
“I wanted to be better for you. I wanted us to be like the story we told Mckenna on Christmas, Zacky. I wanted us to…”
“That was just a story, Brian.” He snapped, wiping at his eyes. “This is real life. In real life, no one ever lives happily ever after. You get old, and you die.”
“Zacky, please.” You choked, closing your eyes. “Please, just, listen to me. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I couldn’t stop it. And when we did that shoot together, he just… he knew I needed it. He just wanted to ruin me, Zacky, he told me so. I took away his career, so he wanted to take away mine. He gave me more, and then he… did that. I mean, I know I’m at fault there too, because I didn’t say no. But, before you freak out on me, had I been sober, I would have. I don’t want him, I never wanted him. I would have done anything for you, god, I still would.” You swallowed again, looking over at him. “When we were in New York, I couldn’t have been happier. You just made things perfect, you made me feel as if nothing could ever hurt me. Nothing would ever hurt me. And I loved that, I loved how it wasn’t just me in love with you, it was you just as in love with me. You were happy too, you can’t deny that.” He nodded some and leaned his head forward into his hands, dropping a manila envelope on the dirt. You averted your eyes from it and looked forward again.
“But I had to go back. I needed more, and I couldn’t show you. So I went back to him and I got more. And I went out and I drank myself stupid and when I passed out… where ever the fuck I did, all I was thinking about was you. And when I found out that everyone knew, the only thing I worried about was what you would think of me. I loved you, Zacky; I’m still in love with you. The only thing I could worry about in rehab was how you’d view me. I kept asking my therapist if you’d still want me now that I have weight. Now that I’m still this mess and I have no career and I have nothing going for me. I kept asking her if all you wanted was Brian Haner the model or Brian Haner the guy. Please tell me it’s the guy, Zacky, please tell me that’s what you want.” He shook his head, standing up slowly.
“I don’t want you at all, Brian.” He leaned down and picked up the envelope, wiping at his eyes. Your mouth dropped open and you let your breath come in soft pants, your shaking hands clutching the metal links of the chain tightly. “I’ve been seeing someone else.” He nodded and wiped his cheeks on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, embellished with the name of some designer. You looked him over, his expensive jeans, his comfortable Italian leather shoes. He had the look of the world you left behind. And here you were in jeans and a sweatshirt of your favorite old band, something you hadn’t worn since high school.
“Who?” You croaked out, letting your tongue slide over your cracked lips. He lowered his head, his voice low.
“Jimmy.”
“No. No.” You shook your head, standing up slowly. “Please tell me you’re joking, please, Zacky. Please.” He backed up from you, shaking his head back.
“I’m serious. I care about him a lot, Brian, and he cares about me too. He’s really good to me. I mean, he’s a fucking liar, but I didn’t want to be alone after what you did to me. And he was there and… I can do what I want and he can do what he wants, but he always comes back to me. And I’ll come back to him.” He nodded and turned away some. “I… I should get going. But, I brought you these. I didn’t want them anymore. But maybe you will.” He sniffed and thrust the envelope out at you. Your shaking hands took it, swallowing thickly as he wiped both his hand under his eyes. “I’ll call you the next time I’m in town, I have a shoot in London in a few days. I… maybe we can have lunch or something. That is, if you eat now.” He looked down and started away as you nodded, your heart shattering into a million pieces. You sat down on the swing again, you hands shaking as you lifted the small metal fastener open, sliding your hand in the envelope.
Your hand emerged slowly with the contents, small tear droplets falling onto the envelope as you sniffed. In your hand were black and white pictures, pictures of you smoking against a tree. Another of you smiling slowly up at the camera. More pictures, more of the same, so glossy and professional, just like any other shot of you. Another picture of you. And then behind it, a picture of your lips on his cheek, his smile wide. His lips wrapped around a cigarette and your own pressed against his ear. More pictures of the two of you together, the two of you happy.
With a shaky breath you looked forward, towards your father and your stepmother and your nine-year-old little half sister walking towards you. You wiped at your cheeks and stood up on the swings, stuffing the folder back together. Forcing a smile you walked towards them, waving some.
“Was that…” Your father started and you cut him off, nodding.
“It was.”
“Where’d he go?”
“London.” You nodded, stuffing the folder under your arm. “He won’t be back, Dad. He said he would, but in that business, someone’s word is only as good as the paper it’s written on.”
“Bri Bri, move your arm, I want to read what it says!” Mckenna pushed at your arm, stealing the envelope out from your grip. She brushed it off and your stepmother went to reprimand her, but you stopped her.
“What’s it say ‘Kenna?” You kneeled down, looking at her as she beamed.
“It says… ‘I’ll be back for you someday’.” She beamed and lowered it. “What’s inside?”
You couldn’t help but smile, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around her tight, sniffing.
“All my hopes and dreams.”
And in the glare of the sunlight, you saw Zacky wipe at his eyes before climbing into his car, and you could have sworn that you saw a hint of him smiling.
-end-