Fingers Crossed (Synacky)

Chapter Eleven

Author's Note: Two updates in one day??? Well, you guys gave a lot of feedback for the previous chapter, so I thought it was necessary! Also, I'm starting school tomorrow, so I probably won't be able to post as much (there's only like, three chapters left anyway).

So yeah, continue with all that feedback, I love it when you comment! The more feedback this gets, the less time before the next chapter is posted!

-foREVerADeathbat

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Brian’s POV

Brian slept alone in a different hotel room from Zacky that night. His sleep was restless, he couldn’t get his eyes to stay closed for long, even with Pinkly by his side. And when he did sleep, his dreams were troubled, frightening. They filled his mind with horrible images and disturbing thoughts, and he couldn’t bear to close his eyes.

He gave up the act altogether, grabbing his lighter and a pack of Marlboros, before heading down the stairs and outside the hotel lobby to have a smoke.

Brian leaned against the wall, sighing as he lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips. He looked up at the sky, more stars illuminating the earth than he ever could have seen in California. He remembered the night where it seemed, though, that even though he was in Huntington Beach, the stars had never shined so bright.

1999. Prom night. Zacky picked him up. And they had ditched the dance, instead favoring the sand and surf. And Brian had admitted to Zacky that he was in love with him. Zacky had admitted to having the same feelings.

God, Brian loved Zacky. He loved him so fucking much. His heart swelled with it, made it beat loudly in his chest. Did he really think that Zacky, who he had been sure loved Brian as much as Brian loved him, had the capacity to go and throw it all away like that?

No. Not for one second. Although, Zacky was hiding something from Brian, something big, and that was the only reasonable explanation he could think of. When he thought about it, it wasn’t very reasonable at all. He wanted more than anything to go to Zacky, to hug him tight and kiss him and reassure him that whatever he was lying about was no big deal, he had no reason to keep it a secret.

But he knew Zacky, and he knew that if Zacky really thought he was looking out for Brian by keeping it to himself, there was no way he’d tell him. No amount of kisses or quiet words or gentle caresses would solve that. So Brian was making the most severe threat he could think of, and Zacky had two options; he could tell the truth, or he could say goodbye to his fiancé.

He did sorta think that Zacky was cheating. If he walked in on Zacky fucking someone else, he couldn’t say that he’d be surprised. But at the same time, he didn’t want to believe it with every fiber of his being. Brian loved Zacky.

But at the same time, he was so pissed because of him that he could barely see straight. That was why he had said all those harsh things to him at the bar. He had meant to cut him. He wanted Zacky to buckle under the words, to tell him everything, to make Brian believe there wasn’t someone else.

Zacky hadn’t done that. He had just left Brian perplexed and miserable and so very angry.

The hotel doors opened, casting a faint light across the parking lot for a split second. Brian looked up to see Matt taking a deep breath of the warm night air. He saw Brian, and Brian offered him a Marlboro.

They smoked in silence for a while, eyes on the cars that dotted the distant freeway. Eventually, Brian cleared his throat. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Matt shook his head. He looked… sad. Brian nudged Matt’s arm and whispered, “You okay?”

He nodded. “I-I’m fine, man, everything’s good.”

Bullshit. Why was everyone lying to him all of the sudden? Did they think he was a complete fool?

“Hey, uh… Z-Zacky told me.”

Oh.

“I bet he says he wasn’t cheating, too.” Brian sighed, “That’s the only reasonable explanation, though. He’s screwing around with some other guy. Where else could he be when he leaves with a poor excuse as to where he’s going? I-I heard him on the phone the other day. He said, ‘He doesn’t know.’ Then he went on to say, ‘Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.’ And then he leaves, and comes back with some lame excuse, like ‘I wanted to look around.’ Now you tell me that it doesn’t sound like he’s fucking someone else.”

Matt took a drag from his cigarette, and tendrils wafted towards the sky as he said, “I can’t make that decision. But I-I do know that Zacky is a wonderful, wonderful guy. You need to enjoy what you have until…” the last part came out as a whisper, “until it’s gone for good.”

“What, so you’re saying I should just ignore the fact that he’s whoring himself around and pretend like everything’s peachy?”

“He’s not whoring himself around, dammit!” Matt dropped his cigarette the ground, snuffing it out with his shoe. “Zacky’s not a slut, Brian. You, of all people, should know that.”

With that, Matt went back inside, leaving Brian more confused than he had ever felt before.