A Little Less Time With You [Synyster Gates/OFC] Rated: 15

Chapter One.

"He's such a dick," I mumbled under my breath, carrying the heavy box of clothing across the loaded parking lot. The cool breeze of Long Beach swept over my bare arms and I felt the hairs prick up at the below-average temperature. With a quick glance at the wrist watch on my left wrist I noticed that it was now nearing six o'clock in the evening and I was lagging behind on my schedule. This was my eighth journey across the lot as I ferried boxes from the spray-painted van to the venue and I could feel the strain on my toned arms. Though I had played soccer for the last eight years as a strong striker, the strength of my muscles differed greatly from one set of limbs to another; my legs were strong enough to belt a ball across one end of a field to the other... my arms left much to be desired.

After I dropped the box on the floor I hurried back across the lot and grabbed the last box. As I did so another set of arms reached out and snatched it from me, carrying the cardboard crate alongside me. Blinking in surprise and gratitude I spotted the familiar chipper face. "Thanks Jason."

"No worries Callie." He told me, lifting one arm to straighten his trucker hat. "This the last one right?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Awesome. You gonna set up now?"

I twirled the lanyard around my neck over and spotted a mini photograph of myself printed on the front. The title '1st Merch Asst' was printed beneath the picture and a large bold barcode beneath that. "Mmhm. Jase, can you pass me that craftknife?"

He did so and with a swift smile in thanks I began to rip open the boxes, rifling through the many t-shirts I'd been assigned with. Copying me, Jason did the same with the three boxes on his side. Hunking the merchandise in his arms he dumped it on the large, widespread table and began to filter them out according to size and design.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Eh, not really. I'm pretty much done. And Lorna rang," he grabbed another box and its contents, "she's going to be late."

"That's just fucking peachy." I grumbled and, out of habit, scratched at my nose, jiggling the silver ring ever so slightly.

Lorna Jameson happened to be the '2nd Merch Asst' assigned to this particular leg of tour. Overall there was eight of us yet I happened to be the only one who was 'qualified' to tour globally with the band. I had 'experience' they'd told me after I was approached about the job. I'd already toured once before when I'd been eighteen with the band my cousin, Michael, managed at the time. To earn my keep I'd been given the grand job of sifting through merch and selling it to sweaty teens and rude adults who glared and urged you to go faster - all the while saying with their eyes: "Couldn't you get a real job?"

Yes. Yes I could. I'd toured for a year; had my life on the road til my nineteenth birthday when I left the world of music to follow up my plans of attending Arkansas University to study Political Sciences. Never in a million years did I believe that I'd be back on the 'scene' so to speak.

But that had changed.

All because of him and his-

"Cal? You there?" joked Jason, waving a hand in front of my face.

I blinked and snapped myself back to the present. "Sorry... lost in my thoughts I guess. What did you say?"

Jason smiled and lifted off his cap, ruffling the ends of his hair before stuffing it back on his head. "I said it's cool," he repeated, "I've nothing else to do. I can help."

I agreed and Jason began to open the rest of the boxes and handed the bags, pins, stickers and other bits and pieces to me. I placed them as creatively as I could on the table and tacked some of the shirts on the maroon drawing board behind me when a voice called out,

"Where's Lorna?"

"Hey Shadows."

Matthew Sanders rolled his eyes at the use of his stage name and smiled, his dimples clearly showing. "S'up Callie? So where's Lorna at tonight?"

"Stuck looking after her brats-" at this, I whacked Jason's arm and he winced before carrying on, "I mean her kids." He amended, rubbing his shoulder.

Matt frowned. "You gonna be okay, kid?"

"Matt, I'm twenty-four-fucking-years-old. I'm not a kid." I informed him, but, as his smile never wavered, I relented. "Yeah, I'll be fine.

"Good. I uh," Matt trailed off and I looked over at him to see him staring at me. "I want to apologise for earlier, Cal. He had no right to be such a prick to you..."

Breathing heavily I shrugged and tried (tried being the key word) to appear nonchalent. "He's allowed to think whatever he wants to think, M. I'm not going to let Synyster Gates get the best of me. If he wants to act like a douche then fine, he can. As far as I'm concerned after this tour's over I have nothing to do with him."

"Bullshit." Jason chided, raising his eyebrows at me. "So what, after this tour's over you're gonna pack up your things and just fuck off of the planet, that it?"

"If you want to put it that way... then sure."

With a heavy sigh Matt came closer and leant against the table. "You know that's not true. You and Brian have a fucking relationship-" at my glare he subsided, "okay not a sexual one or anything, not any more at least, but you guys have a fucking history, babe. You have chemistry-"

"If you call us hating each other and wanting the other to fuck off to.. Thailand or something 'chemistry' then I guess you're right."

Jason smirked. "Someone's in denial."

"Do you want me to throw punch you?"

Matt ignored our banter. "Callie... what Brian did earlier was shitty. You know this, I know this... hell, I'm guessing the fucker knows that what he did was fucked up. But it's not just him whose life you invaded, Cal. You did ours too. Do you think's Rev's gonna be happy when he hears that you're just leaving? Or what about Zazky, huh? You're thick as theives. I'm sure he'll be pretty happy about that. And what about me and Johnny, huh?"

I mumbled something under my breath and Matt's lips tugged down into a frown, his legendary dimples disappearing. "What was that?"

I shrugged.

"It's not Brian I'm worried about..." As I said this I spotted him and his stupid smirk across the hallway as he chatted to Johnny about something. Donned in his black jeans and wifebeater no one would notice the slight difference in Brian Haner Jr. But, as I let my eyes feast on him I noticed the little things that most wouldn't: the stupid little smirk that played across his face, how his eyes flashed dangerously as he caught sight of me, and how his posture suddenly became rigid and powerful - a whole one-eighty - in less than a second.

Brian Haner Jr. was one person.

But Synyster Fucking Gates was another person entirely.

=o

I'm already in love with this.
moremoremore!
ahahah

xD!
Thanks Katie

Chapter Two.

Dozens of pairs of arms reached forward as they clawed at the remaining material on the table. Beside me, Jason did his best to fend off the sweating, hyped up fans and, awkwardly, I shouted over the noise at the nearest person, locking eyes with them: "What do you want?"

"The white deathbat. Girl's medium." The woman replied, elbowing the person behind her in the gut. I smirked at her aggression and grabbed a shirt,

"That's twenty bucks."

Throwing a twenty at me, the woman slinked out of the crowd and I pocketed the money, "Alright," I said, turning to another customer, "You."

Jason and I repeated this process for what seemed to last over an hour. After the crowd had disappeared and we were left to quickly deposit the money in the safety lockl box, we'd been left with just over ten shirts to our names. Gathering the now creased clothes (the bastards had leant on them as they had tried to creep forward) I held them in my arms as Jason took down the three tacked shirts on the wall. Once we'd cleared up the rest of the stuff we hauled it back to the van where it would stay until the Berrys collected more for the next show.

Lorna had called two hours ago telling us that Cameron, her youngest, had fallen ill with a stomach bug and wanted to know whether I could cope by myself. I knew that she couldn't help it if her son was sick but she could've phrased the question better.

Yeah, sure Lorna - I'll be fine. Abandon me on the busiest show of all the tour whilst I try and avoid the stupid advances of horny, unwashed men.

Idiot.

Thankfully Jason came to my rescue more than once.

"So where are we heading to tonight?"

"Nevada." Jason replied as he locked the van up, twirling the keys on his middle finger. "Gambling city, baby!" He pumped his fist in the air and laughed. I watched him, a small smile tugging at my lips. I shook my head at him and we made our way back to the venue. "Thought any more about the end of tour?" He asked me slyly, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

"No. I'd told you I've already decided. I'm not coming back."

Jason looked at me. "Do you know how many shows we've got left on this tour?"

I shook my head.

"Twenty-eight spread over a thirty-four day strip. Which leaves me thirty-four days to convince you to open your eyes and fucking realise that Brian wasn't the only one who cared for you, fuck, we still do you stupid idiot."

"Wow," I commented dryly as I pushed open the door to the arena, slipping inside. "I've never felt so special."

"Get over all the girly shit." Jason told me sternly. He stopped and placed his hands on my shoulders, staring down at me. "Brian's an ass. So what? The Callie Rogers I know wouldn't give a shit about what some stupid rockstar thinks of her or says or does. Remember when you first came on tour with us-"

"That was a long time ago-"

"- you didn't fucking care who we were. It didn't matter. So what changed, Cal?"

"I fell in love with him, Jason. Is that what you want to hear? You want me to admit that I fucking fell in love and then watched him sling my feelings around like it was his stupid guitar? How I opened up to him only to have him shatter it? That what you want to hear?"

He let out a low whistle. Never had I admitted that I'd 'loved' Brian. Not to him, not to anyone else... and only once to myself.

"Cal-"

"It doesn't matter," I remained tight lipped. "I should've known better than to get in deep with rockstars," I shot him a wry smile, "just a bunch of idiots aren't you?"

He smiled gently. "Guess we are." He let go of my shoulders and said, "Hey, I'm gonna go find my dickwad of a brother. You cool?"

"Cool." I affirmed and waved as he jogged in the other direction. Slumming my hands in my pockets I sauntered down the corridor hoping to find Zacky somewhere so I could lose myself in his stupid, pointless chatter. Over the past three months Zachary Baker had wormed his way into my heart but, unlike Brian, he had managed to stay there without breaking a single piece.

Finding the door to the room I knew the band happened to be in, I went to push it open when it was pulled backwards and a familiar face stood in the doorway, his signature smirk planted on his lips. He looked down at me, eyes blazing, and mumbled something so low that I was the only one to hear it.

"Bitch."

Nice to see you too, Gates.

=o
I be loving it.

love it! i want to know what happened between syn and cal tho

ahhh but syn was said to be diferent tto brian so 'who' did she go out with?

questions! XD

i love it toooooo

Thanka!

more soon? -cute face- pretty pwease?

I. Love. This.
More really soon if you can.

I'm working on chapter three right now, so it'll be up by tomorrow!

Chapter Three

For the next two days I'd managed to avoid Brian Haner Jr. completely; much to my internal delight. During the day I'd lounge in the van or on the bus with Zacky who happily let me keep him company. As we neared Vegas the sky darkened considerably and the bright flashing lights in the distance kept my mind off of the male two seats to my right. Brian stared out of the window, his cheek resting against the cool glass and his eyes travelled along the highway with the car. He'd stuffed an old, black beanie hat over his short hair (it had grown since the beginning of tour and had just wagered a haircut) and his chin was rested on his fist.

To the right of me, beside Brian, sat Matt. He was texting on his phone, glancing upwards every minute or so. His phone would bleep with a text and he'd smile and punch a reply in via the buttons. Val, obviously.

Jason was driving, chatting idly to Zack who was replying with as much animation as the other presented. Johnny and Jimmy were both asleep; they'd stayed up til six in the morning too hyped up from last night's show.

The dozen or so beers they'd downed didn't help much, either.

"Who's up for blowing some big money?" Jason called from his seat at the front. He didn't bother to turn to look at us and instead pulled off of the interstate and onto the boulevard.

"Count me out." Voiced Matt, looking up from his phone.

"I'm game. The sleepers will be too," Zacky nodded his head towards Jason. Brian carried on staring out of the window, seemingly lost in the city's lights.

"Yo Cal!" Jason yelled. Brian looked up, irritated by the noise, and glared at me. Like that's my fault, Gates. "You up for scoring some dough?"

"Not if you're gonna phrase it like that!" I called back, smirking as Brian, sorry, Gates, deepened his look of death. "But sure, I've got some cash."

Zachary Baker grinned and his eyes glinted in the night light. "Awesome." He reached forward and slapped my shoulder, hard. He didn't mean it in a violent manner though the hit still hurt. I visibly winced and Zacky's eyes widened
"Shit, Cal - sorry," he apologised quickly, "I didn't mean to... did it hurt that much? Ice? You need ice? Fuck me I'm an idiot, Callie, seriously-"

"Might've knocked some sense in her," mumbled Gates. I glowered at him and gave him the finger as the car stopped. He slid open the door and made to jump out, "Vengeance, next time you hit her make sure it knocks her out cold."

He walked off into the night leaving pairs of glaring eyes staring at his retreating back. Matt sighed and offered me a small smile. Zacky, however, was still apologising. "Stupid idiot," he spoke of his friend's comment, "you sure you're good?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I just didn't expect it. I'm okay, Zack."

"Awesome," he jumped out of the van. I followed him seconds later. "'Cause I don't want my gambling partner to bail on me now."

-
Gambling with Zack was interesting to say the least. After losing a thousand dollars on Black Jack he turned away, crushed, and moaned under his breath at the loss of his cash. Not one to be put out for long, he pulled out four fifty dollar bills and placed them in my hand, "You're my lucky lady, Rogers." He bumped my shoulder with his, "go win me some money, baby!" He cheered and I laughed. He'd already downed at least three beers. And, out of seemingly nowhere, Johnny appeared and handed him a fourth.

"How you doing, Vengeance!" Johnny cried, clearly drunk. He handed me a third bottle (for he held one of his own in his hands) and laughed loudly. "I lost like five hundred bucks over on that table," he pointed to our right, "and this bastard," he paused to belch, quite loud I might add, "beat me to it. Fucking twenty-one. I'm sick of twenty-one! If I wasn't I couldn't drink these fuckers!" He gestured to his drink.

"Maybe you should cut back some," I advised warily as he staggered around. Johnny didn't give me a verbal answer; he walked away swinging his bottle of beer dangerously in the air. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, he's trashed." Zacky commented, pushing back some of his hair. It had fallen in his eyes as he'd taken a long gulp of his alcohol. "Come play a game?"

"Sure."

Unlike both Zacky and Johnny (and most likely the rest of them) I didn't lose all my cash in one go. Raised by accountant parents I knew the rules of gambling and money loindering and everything that went with it. I placed my bets with a cautious mind and, to my delight, won two rounds of Black Jack. I presented my winnings to Zacky who took the chips greedily. He was now on his way to becoming a drunkard.

"Thanks," he lisped before kissing me on the cheek. I left him at the table where he was merrily winning a game of something or other when I saw Gates standing to the right of me. He took my arm, much to my surprise, and with a death grip he pulled me outside of the casino. Blinding lights met my eyes and I blinked before closing my eyes in pain as he pressed and dug his fingertips into my skin.

"So that's how it is, is it?" He spat, eyes dangerously flickering with anger. "You just go and fuck the next hotshot you see?"
I wanted to call him 'drunk' but I knew that he wasn't. Gates was sober and, for the first time in my life, I wished him to be drunk - so drunk that he'd pass out on the floor. But instead I got his vice grip and hot breath fanning across my face.

"Is it?" He whispered.

And, before I could retaliate, before I could think of some witty answer to wipe that smug smirk off his face, Synyster Gates was kissing me hard on the mouth. He'd trapped me against the wall, pasting me to the rough brickwork and pressing his lips against mine with unknown force. Never had I seen him so.... worked up over something. Never had I seen him so angry. His turbulent emotions frightened me. Pulling away, the guitarist glared at me. "I want you to get the fuck off this tour." With those final parting words he left... leaving my lips swollen, my mind and thoughts whirling out of control and my heart slowly but surely breaking.

whoa.

is mr gates a bitch or what?

and what did he mean by the 'hotshot' thing? hmmmmm

awesome upate daisy!

Thank youuuuu

love this! Brian's an ass! I cant wait to find out what happened in the past with those two!

Haha, that he is!
Thanks

Daisyyyy!
Moarrrr!
please?
xD

ASAP, Ashhhh <3

AH! That scene, hell, this whole story is amazing!
I wouldn't mind being held up against a wall like that.
So long as it was Brian doing it of course. XD

Y'never know Katelyn - you may just get your own story, yet!

REALLY?
I love you.

Woahhh. Awesome story man!!! Gees the Gateman has his panties all up in a bunch doesn't he?

=] I can't wait for the next chapter.

*new reader*
I love this fic so far. You're a very good writter. Wow, Syn's really bitchy. Johnny's great as a drunk. More when you can please