Fingers Crossed (Synacky)

Chapter Thirteen

Zacky slipped out of the bus, shuffling hesitantly to Brian’s side. Everyone else was waiting on the bus. They knew Brian and Zacky needed privacy for this.

“Bribri…” Zacky knelt at Brian’s side, looking forlornly at his fiancé. “Baby, I-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Brian whispered, “You-You have cancer. I called you a slut and a whore and a bitch and… and my ZeeZee has cancer.”

Zacky looked down, dragging his fingers through the dust. “I-I’m so sorry, Brian, I didn’t… I was just trying to avoid this for as long as possible. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Oh, Zacky…” Brian flung his arms around Zacky, and Zacky returned the embrace, hugging Brian like it would be the last time. “I love you.” Brian murmured, “I love you and I am so sorry. I should have listened to you and now…” he took a shaky breath, “I’ve wasted two weeks of this very precious time I’ll have left with you.”

Brian burst into sobs, and Zacky pressed his lips to Brian’s cheek. “Bri… baby, shh…”

“I can’t fucking lose you!” Brian cried, “You can’t leave me, Zacky, there has to be some other way. Maybe we can get you some more treatment or do some research and find something more effective than chemo… we can't give up! I can’t give up on you! I can’t lose you, not like J- not like… this.”

Zacky knew he was going to say something different. Not like Jimmy. He cupped Brian’s face in his hands and kissed him again and again, and Brian returned every one of those kisses. It succeeded in calming him down somewhat, and Zacky wiped away Brian’s tears with his thumbs. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the ring that Brian had discarded. “I think we need to redo this.”

Brian forced a smile and went to take it, but Zacky pulled it away. “Wait.”

He readjusted himself so he was on one knee and cupped the ring in both of his hands, one holding the ring and the other covering it up. “Brian,” he whispered, “Y-You are the only one I could ever picture myself being with. I have been head over heels for you since we were fucking six years old. And after what, twenty one years of love? I think it’s time we became official. No gimmicks, no going back, no second boyfriends, just you and me. And one day we’ll get married on a beach because I want to, and I know you’ll say yes because you already have. We’ll have a honeymoon in Scotland, and we’ll have the most perfect lives ever.” He removed the hand on top to reveal the ring. “And even if none of that happens, even if I don’t make it to a wedding, I want you to know that I will always be yours, and you will always have me, even if I'm not with you. And I want you to stop crying, and I want you to kiss me, and we’re going to go play the last concert I will ever play, and we’re going to blow the fucking roof off the place. Then we will go home and you will show me how much you love me in the bedroom. Does that sound like a plan?”

Dumbfounded, Brian nodded. Zacky smiled, taking Brian’s hand and slipping the ring on his finger. Then he stood up, pulling Brian to his feet, and attacked him with a kiss, leaping at Brian with his arms around Brian’s neck and his legs tight around his waist.

Brian staggered back a little, but he gripped Zacky’s thighs, holding him up, and they kissed, all tongues and teeth and lips and soft whispers. Then they returned on the bus, and Brian said, “Let’s go play that show.”

~*~

To be honest, they did horrible.

Everyone was sad. Everyone was upset. So that influenced their playing. It even influenced the roadies, who took much longer to set up than they normally would have under normal circumstances. But Brian and Zacky played solos back to back, and Matt screamed the most heartfelt screams he could, and Johnny played the fuck out of that bass, and Arin, such a good kid, he never missed a note. He got them back on track when Brian got lost, he set the downbeat again whenever Johnny’s fingers fumbled. And Zacky was so grateful for him that night.

And the last song of the night was, of all songs, Fiction.

Zacky appreciated the crowd. They probably could tell the whole band had been fucking up, but they showed their support, screaming, crowdsurfing, moshing. And when that first piano riff played, the dark of the venue became bright with hundreds of tiny lights. It was like the sky at night, if there had never been such a thing as pollution. It was wonderful.

Zacky got lost in the song, playing the slow rhythm they had added, listening to Brian carry the song through with melancholy rises and falls.

Then, it was gone. Zacky looked towards Brian, but he had stopped playing. The guys all continued to play, Zacky quickly switching to the lead part to compensate, and Johnny played the bass line a little louder to make up for Zacky’s switch.

Brian walked calmly to the mic on the side of the stage where Zacky sang backing vocals. He uttered four words, “I can't. I’m sorry.” And he simply walked off the stage.

The crowd was disappointed, but they didn’t stop showing their support. Someone started the chant, “Synyster! Synyster! Synyster!” and it spread like wildfire around the venue. The crowd had the place shaking with Brian’s stage name.

They finished the song. The crowd continued to chant. Matt apologized. He thanked them. He bid them goodnight.

Brian never came back.