Days Come and Go, But My Feelings for You Are Forever

SYNYSTER GATES P.O.V

We were eleven when we met, and he was perfect. We were eleven, and played in the park all day giggling like the children we were; chasing away ducks back to the fountains of water scattered throughout the park, and scaring pigeons gathered in flocks around benches. His hair was short and fluffy and blonde. His body was tiny, and I was jealous of him always winning Hide-And-Go-Seek because of it, which of course we had to call "James Bond", because Hide-And-Go-Seek wasn't a grownup name, and we were grownups after all. His cheeks were pudgy and rosy and shadows fell across it in every sunset we spent together hiding out in the shrubs behind his house, drinking fake beer and thinking we were adults, until he was whistled back to his house. "I love you, Bri!" he'd yell off his porch to me as a goodbye in his high, lisp ridden voice. "I love you too, Zacky!"

We were fifteen when we started playing guitar together, and he was perfect. He played so much more elegantly than me, so much more serious. We'd sit in my garage and smoke our first cigarettes and pretend we were famous. He was still short, but slightly pudgier, and his hair was longer and black. He lisped when he sang and in every day speech, and I thought he was the cutest thing. He was openly bi, and I had been straight, but through the years being around Zack I was starting to be convinced otherwise. "Peace, Zach" I'd shout over my shoulder on the way out of his living room. "Bye dude" he'd say back, only half focused because of the drugs. We never said "I love you" anymore. We were fifteen, and didn't want to look gay.

We were seventeen, stoned off our asses, and in love. "Do you like boys too, Bri?" he asked me. We were still wishing we were famous, playing out our back-to-back guitar routines in my garage. His hair hung in his face over one eye, streaked with patches of purple, and he wore thick eyeliner and played horrorPOPS riffs on his red and white Shecter. "Huh?" I asked him, distracted by drugs now too. "Do you like girls AND boys?"he lisped to me from across the room. "Uh..." I started, not wanting to admit it, not even to the living proof that I did like boys. "I dunno" I told him, turning back to the guitar propped up on my knees. "Why?" Zacky shrugged"'Cause I Love you." he answered."Wow, I haven't heard THAT in years." I laughed and finished “I Love you too."

"No." Zacky stated simply, "I'm IN Love with you." He said it so nonchalant, like it wasn't a deal or anything. He took a drag of his Marlboro red, and waited for my answer. For a few moments I said nothing, only fiddled with the bottom string of my guitar, pretending to start the intro of 'Love Me Dead'. He coughed softly. Whether it was from the smoke or to coax an answer it grabbed my attention. Prying my eyes off of my fret board, I started into his eyes and responded shyly "Yeah...I like boys" The smile he gave me in return was gorgeous. Setting down his guitar against the stool he was sitting on he got up, walking towards me in his goofy, torn up, bright red Converse All-Stars and rested his hands on my shoulders. They were warm and pale and porcelain, and his eyes were the most intense shade of ice-blue I'd ever witnessed in my lifetime. Zacky smiled, and placed a soft kiss on my lips "Me too" he said. I brushed the purple strands of hair out of his face and smiled softly. "I Love you too, Zachary James Baker"