Love within the shadows

Fresh Burst

Synyster Gates had fallen asleep later that night, still fuming from the fight with Matt. His dreams were restless, plagued by fragments of their argument, the tension, and the bitter words exchanged. But then, the dream took a strange turn.

He found himself standing alone in a vast, empty concert venue. The air was thick, and the dim lights flickered above him like something out of a horror movie. His guitar hung by his side, but it didn't feel right. There was a strange hum in the distance, like the low buzz of an amplifier just before it blows.

As Syn looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings, a voice echoed through the venue, gravelly and unmistakable.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEEENNNN.....INTRODUCING THE....CHOCOLATE STARFIIIISH!!"

Syn's head snapped toward the stage, where the shadowy figure of a man stood under the dim spotlight. As the figure stepped forward, Syn's eyes widened in disbelief.

There, wearing a backward red cap, a white tank top, and baggy jeans, was none other than Fred Durst. The frontman of Limp Bizkit, in all his early 2000s glory, stood before Syn like some spectral guide from the past. His arms were crossed, and he had a look of disappointment on his face.

"Fred Durst?" Syn muttered, blinking in confusion. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Fred smirked, shaking his head. "I haunt those who lose sight of what really matters. You know what that is, right?" He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low, eerie whisper. "Asses."

Syn groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake..."

Fred wasn't letting up. He stepped onto the stage, the lights brightening slightly as he approached Syn. "You know why I'm here, right? You and Matt—two of the tightest bros in metal—just threw down over who has the bigger ass. And I gotta be real with you, man, that's not something to lose your head over."

Syn crossed his arms, still defensive. "It wasn't just about that. It's everything. The way he acts, like he's the leader of everything, the constant power struggle."

Fred raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Yeah, yeah, egos and all that. But come on, Syn. Be honest with yourself. You know why you're really mad. And you know how this ends if you don't fix it."

Syn stared at him, the anger from earlier still boiling in his chest. But there was something unsettling about how calm Fred Durst was. Something... prophetic.

Fred grinned. "Let me break it down for you, dude. You gotta admit the truth. Matt's got the bigger ass."

Syn's jaw tightened. "Are you serious? That's what this is about?"

"Hell yeah, I'm serious!" Fred stepped forward, getting uncomfortably close. "You can't deny it forever. You guys have been brothers for years, through thick and thin. But this fight—over whose ass is bigger—is the dumbest thing you've ever let come between you. And the worst part? You're wrong, dude."

Syn glared at Fred, fists clenched. "I'm not wrong."

Fred sighed, running a hand over his bald head. "Look, man, I get it. You don't want to back down. But here's the thing: sometimes you gotta swallow your pride and own up to reality." He paused, his tone softening. "Matt's got the bigger ass. And that's okay. Doesn't mean you're any less of a legend."

Syn scoffed, looking away. "Why should I be the one to apologise?"

Fred stepped in front of him, blocking his view. "Because you know you're wrong, and this fight isn't just about ass size anymore. It's about your friendship, your brotherhood. You guys have been through too much together to let something this stupid ruin it."

Syn fell silent, Fred's words echoing in his mind. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Fred was right. The argument had escalated into something much bigger than it should have been. And deep down, he knew that Matt did have a bigger ass. But more importantly, this was about their friendship—something that went far beyond any petty rivalry.

Fred gave him a knowing look. "Go talk to Matt. Apologise. Tell him the truth, keep rollin rollin rollin."

Syn sighed, feeling the weight of the dream settle over him. "Fine. I'll talk to him."

Fred grinned, patting Syn on the shoulder. "That's what I'm talking about, bro. Don't let the small stuff get in the way of what really matters."

As Fred started to walk away, the venue around them began to fade. The lights dimmed, and the hum of the amplifiers grew louder. Syn watched as Fred disappeared into the darkness, his voice echoing one last time.

"And don't forget—Matt's ass is massive."

Rollin' played, slowly getting quieter as Fred Durst vanished into thin air.

Syn woke up with a start, sitting up in his bed and breathing heavily. The dream lingered in his mind, surreal and bizarre, but the message was clear. He had to talk to Matt.

The next morning, Syn texted Matt: We need to talk.

It wasn't easy swallowing his pride, but Fred Durst's ghostly words had haunted him all night. The truth was undeniable, and if Fred Durst himself told him to apologise, then maybe it was time.

Later that day, Syn showed up at Matt's house. Matt answered the door with a raised eyebrow but didn't say anything, just stepping aside to let Syn in.

They sat down in the living room, an awkward silence hanging between them. Syn took a deep breath, bracing himself. "Look, man, I'm sorry. I was an idiot."

Matt watched him, not responding right away. Syn continued, running a hand through his hair. "I got defensive over something stupid, and I let it blow up into this whole thing. But the truth is... well, you've got the bigger ass, okay?"

A small grin tugged at Matt's lips. "You're damn right I do."

Syn rolled his eyes, but he smiled too. "But seriously, I'm sorry. It wasn't just about that. There's been a lot of tension building between us, and I let it all come out in the dumbest way possible."

Matt leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly. "Yeah, we both messed up. But you're right. We've been through too much to let something like this mess everything up."

The tension between them began to ease, the weight of the argument lifting as they talked through it. They both knew that their friendship was more important than any stupid fight over who had the better body.

As they stood up, Matt clapped Syn on the back. "Thanks for coming over, man. And for admitting the truth."

Syn smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't expect me to say it again."

That night, as they left the house to meet up with the band for rehearsal, Syn couldn't help but laugh to himself. Of all the ways to fix a friendship, being haunted by Fred Durst was not what he had expected. But somehow, it had worked.

And deep down, he knew Fred had been right all along.

Matt really did have the bigger gyatt. Level 10 gyatt, even.