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Blank Sheet	By : demeterwilson Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Avenged Sevenfold Views: 1027 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own no one except Al. I do not know Avenged Sevenfold and they own themselves and their music. No money was made from this and it is a work of fiction.

Chapter List
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- 2-Chapter 2
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Tap, tap, tap, tap. My fingers struck the keyboard with lightening precision. The sea breeze and light music playing at the restaurant I was at made me all the more in the zone. Sitting on the little pavilion outside, sipping my sweet tea, I stared hard at the screen that was quickly filling with words. My idea to get away from it all in the cold mid-west was paying off as I sat in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in the mild California winter. Granted I wouldn’t be taking a dip in the water any time soon, but it was still a hell of a lot better than the ice storms they were having back home. My friend Beth had called to curse me on my decision to head west right before it hit.

That was one of the things that I loved about my job. I could just pick up and go wherever I please and I wouldn’t have to worry about calling in sick or anything. My name is Alice Rachelle Owens, or to my readers, A.R. Hawkins. To my friends and family though, it’s just Al. Pushing my thick framed glasses up my nose to their original position, my fingers decided to take a break. Right then I was working on my newest book, the third in a series, ‘The Adventures of Mot and Connie - Rumble in the Brazilian Jungle.’ The first two books weren’t exactly hits like Harry Potter, but they did very decent. As soon as rumors of me possibly turning the first book, ’The Adventures of Mot and Connie - Hawaiian Delight’ into a second or possibly a series were heard by my publisher, they were all over it like white on rice.

It was very exciting for a mid-west girl that was still in college and was going to be a business major. So ditching the school, much to my parents dismay, I worked on the second book ‘The Adventures of Mot and Connie - The Luck of the Irish.’ Now I had to come up with a third book and the readers on my website were begging for some sort of romantic twist between the ever lovable and extremely unpredictable Mot and his lovely and excitable friend Connie. The two were like peas in a pod and it was hard for me to make them romantic about each other.

Yeah I mean there was Mot being all dastardly and hitting on Connie in a joking way, but they had grown close and were best of friends. It would be hard to turn that into something more.

‘[i]Aw[/i],’ Mot would say if he were her with me. ‘[i]Do you remember when we first met shnookems?[/i]’ Connie would sit next to him and nod, playing along.

‘[i]Remember when you tried to hijack me and my rental too? Ah memories[/i],’ she would sigh happily.

Just for further notice, my characters Mot and Connie, will add their two cents. The way I describe it to everyone is they’re like my Drop Dead Fred. I’ve been known to do and say things on their account because of something they say or do in my head.

Am I mental? No, I’m a writer. These things exist and act for a reason! It’s how I got to be the writer I am today and will be for a very long time. It’s why it’s so damn hard to make them do something that I don’t think they would do.

These two are my babies, my first real big work of art so to speak. To me they were more real and extensions of myself, but what writer doesn’t do that? Well besides the non-fiction writers, but even then they’re style of writing really shows through with their works. Back to the point, it was hard to write romance about two characters that you had started out with and never had that in mind for them. When that thought ran through my head, that was about when I stopped typing.

“Shit,” I breathed. I had lost it. The plot. . . It just disappeared from my head. I had it all planned out and now that romance was thrown into the equation I would have to try and rework the whole dynamic of the story. “Damn you publishers,” I seethed, leaning back against my chair.

‘[i]See what happens when you try to perfect perfection? You divide by zero[/i],” Mot would say, making an explosion noise and mushroom cloud with his hands. Connie would just giggle and nod.

Grabbing my tea, I sipped it a bit trying to get back what I had just lost. One good reason I went to Huntington Beach instead of stay with the yetis back home, I wouldn’t have to deal with distractions from other people asking me to go hang out with them, babysitting, or some other task that I would have to do because ‘You’re a writer, you can just pick up and go and do whatever you want. You don’t have a schedule.’

Oh ho! My dear friends are wrong! I have a schedule I keep myself on and I like to stick to it as close as possible so it’s not ten freaking years later that I write another cause I was off doing something counter productive.

Sighing, I leaned over and dug in my lap top bag before I pulled out some headphones. Plugging them in, I scrolled through my extensive music library and settled on Journey for a bit to clear my head. When you’re a writer, a REAL writer, one that delves themselves into their stores so much that their characters take on a life of their own, you actually find yourself talking to them in your head. That is if you’re out in public. At my place I’m usually raging on at Mot or Connie about something they did in the book, but that’s just me.

‘[i]Come on Mot, do something[/i],’ I sighed as I stared at my screen. All I got was the cursor blinking like a pendulum.

Nothing.

Nada.

Zilch.

It was like he and Connie had just disappeared. This was worse than when I had a business marketing project and only a day to do it. I had had to write, direct, and edit a commercial for a skateboarding park that they would actually use for TV. Some how I pulled something out of my ass and it made it to the small screen with an A-. How I did it is still a mystery to me. My partner did appreciate it though, lazy git.

Maybe I just needed to find someone to antagonize my amazingly punk duo other than villagers that swore Mot’s phone would steal their soul. Who would it be though? Time to start scanning the people of this fair city. Pressing shuffle on my music player, I started to people watch. One of the bad things about the restaurant I chose was that EVERYONE was the same. It was quite depressing actually. I wasn’t sticking out like a sore thumb or anything, but when you’re sitting there with black/blue hair and a small nose ring, you stand out a bit amongst pastel colored polo shirts and khaki pants and shorts.

The anti-hero of the story could be a country club arch nemesis of Mot’s from childhood. The mere thought of chibi Mot versus a chibi country clubber made me giggle. Saving the document that has the story I was working on, I opened up a new one and quickly started to type out a script for a possible comic strip for my site as well. Although I had been a business major and not art, I was still pretty handy with a pencil. Just little random ideas that come to me like that helped make the writing process less stressful. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, just sometimes. . .

A sudden blur of black and a cackle brought me out of my haze and as just finished up the four panel comic script. Looking up, I saw three men. Now there was a group that would go great in my book. Studying them, they didn’t even to seem to notice me staring. One was tall, like really tall. He had one of those reverse mullet hair cuts, like long in the front and short n’ spiky in the back. I think I had one my freshman year of high school. They all had tattoos, but the tall one had a pair of hand cuffs on his neck outlined in red. . . Interesting. They all wore eyeliner too.

I never really got why you would wear eyeliner, but that’s just me. Another was wearing a ball cap backwards with a shag cut. From what I could tell, his arms were covered in monsters. His sleeveless shirt left little the imagination about his body as well. The last one looked like he’d been drunk at a Christmas party and had his hair attacked by elves. Chunks of it were blond, red, and green. The shortest of the group, he stuck out with about half a foot shorter than the second guy.

Maybe a band of thieves come across Mot and Connie, yeah! A smuggling ring! Maybe one could be romantically linked to Connie, a past love. A cop out of getting around Mot and Connie together. Grinning ear to ear, I saved the comic strip and brought up the document of ideas and quickly typed it down. So much more came from just those three showing up. Bless you three strange men!

“Hi!” A voice chirped suddenly next to me.

“Ah!” I screamed on gut reaction as I jumped in my seat. I looked next to me to find the tallest man sitting in the seat next to me. Wide eyed, I slowly settled down again. All he did was just grin at me. It was slightly unnerving to be quite honest.

“I’m Jimmy,” he said holding out his hand as if I hadn’t just screamed in his face.

“Al,” I said taking his larger paw in my own and shaking it.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, just saw you looking at me and I’d thought I’d come over to say hi.” It was interesting. It was almost like talking to a caffeined up Mot. But Mot wasn’t real, so what did that make this guy?

“Nice to meet you Jimmy,” I said, quickly saving the idea document and closing it out.

“So Al, what are you doing that was making you stare so intently at me? Was it my gorgeous eyes? No, wait, my ass. I get that a lot. Everyone loves my ass.” The grin just widened as I quirked an eyebrow. Something about his situation felt a little too familiar in a very scary way.

“I was just thinking really,” I blinked as I finally realized he still held my hand. Slowly, I took it back and set it on the arm rest of my chair.

“Thinking about how I am in bed? I know, it’s hard not to think about, but I promise the real thing is so much better than your imagination.” Ok, this was getting way to weird. It was like I was really talking to Mot. . . Maybe I’d finally flipped my lid. Without hesitation, I reached out and poked him in the face. This time it was his turn to look confused, though the grin did stay. “What was that for?”

“I was making sure that you were real and not a figment of my imagination,” I said plainly.

“Nope, I’m really real sweet heart,” he chuckled.

“Jimmy!” The short man shouted, getting our attention. “Time to go! Matt’s gonna kick our ass if we’re late again!”

“I hate to love you then leave you, but duty calls,” he said as he stood up. I was about to ask something, but he pressed a finger to my lips and shushed me. “Don’t cry. You’ll find someone else just as good as me.” He smiled before hopping over the little fence that surrounded the patio dining area. I sat there blinking for a moment trying to figure out what the hell just happened as he and his two friends disappeared. Checking my tea, I made sure it wasn’t a Long Island Iced Tea before saving everything on my lap top and shut it down. That was enough excitement for me that day. God only knows how tomorrow’s gonna be.

Another day, another glass of tea, another comic strip written. If I wasn’t careful, I’d have more of a graphic novel than an actual book. . . Hmm. . . Tucking that little idea away for later, I got back to the idea of the three thieves that seemed to be giving Mot and Connie trouble. All three of them having the almost exact same descriptions as the men I saw yesterday. The tallest one. . . I named him Murphy, the one that was a tattoo artists best friend was called Ollie, and then the one that looked like Christmas threw up on him was dubbed Harley. There! One of the hardest parts was done!

I don’t care what people say, making characters is easy, naming them is hard! My fingers working furiously again, I managed to knock out a few good chapters with introductions of the new characters that I planned on keeping through out the series. It was about the same time as yesterday, mid afternoon, that I first met the stranger that acted like Mot that he made an encore appearance. At first I didn’t even notice that he was there to begin with I was so enthralled with my writing. Hell he even ordered a drink and sat there staring at me before I finally looked up and saw his mug with a smirk worthy of The Joker himself.

“Ah!” I screamed again, once more jumping in my seat.

“Hello again sugar plum!” He cracked.

“Why do you keep doing that?!” I hissed as I settled back down just as his drink arrived.

“I have that affect on many woman, it’s ok, I know I can be a bit. . . Daunting at times,” he waggled his eyebrows. Seriously, he was either a weird stalker fan or just some crazy that seemed to find me. “So Al, how are you today?” He asked as he sipped his drink.

“I’m fine. . .” I said as I saved my work and shut my lap top down again. What was his name again? Shit.

“Aw! You don’t remember me, but wait! I can refresh your memory,” he said with a wave of his hands, acting like he was going to do a magic trick. “It’s Jimmy. I know you were so enthralled with my looks that you probably were hypnotized by my voice. It’s soothing, everyone says so.”

“Are you on crack?” I finally asked, an incredulous look on my face.

“No, but my mother was when she was pregnant with me!” He declared happily. That would explain a lot, but something told me he was pulling my leg. “So what do you want to do now?” He asked leaning back in his seat and sipping his drink.

“Excuse me?” I blinked, a blank expression apparent as I tried to wrap my head around what he was doing.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said giving me a pitiful look. “ ‘What’s this Adonis talking to me for? I’m just a lowly mortal.’ Fear not! You my dear maiden are a vision in the desert that would make Aphrodite scream with jealousy.” I’m not sure if he was hitting on me or making fun of me. Either way, this was a little too weird for my taste.

“I’m leaving now,” I said as he I grabbed my lap top and slid it into my bag easily. Putting the strap over my head, I stood up. “Jimmy, it was nice to meet you again, but this,” I motioned between us. “Just is too weird for me.”

“Ok then, we can just be friends! I have not problem with that,” Jimmy said jumping up and following me as I left.

“Are you a mental patient?” I asked as I walked out of the restaurant and on down the street. I unfortunately realized I’d probably have to walk till he left me alone. I didn’t want him to know where I was staying!

“What if I was? What would you do?” He asked falling in step beside me.

“Call the nut house and tell them I found one of their peanuts,” I snorted.

“Ok, ok, you win,” he sighed in defeat as if we were arguing about something worth while. “I’ll go out with you.” Wait. . . What? “I’ll meet you at the same restaurant at oh say six?”

“What? Wait, hold on one second there Jimmy,” I said waving my hands in distress.

“Ok It’s a date then!” He grinned. I really wanted to smack that grin off his face.

“No it’s not!” I cried. “No!”

“Why not?” He asked stretching a bit, elongating himself further.

“Because I don’t know you!” I huffed as I stopped walking, not even realizing my plan to meander till I lost him failed. There we were, in front of my rented house. Damn it.

“So?” He said giving me an innocent look.

“So. . .” I couldn’t really come up with a solution to this problem. What was the big deal about going out on ONE date with this guy? Plenty of people went out on blind dates. Why not me?

“So I’ll see you at six?” He grinned again.

“I’ll see you at six,” I confirmed with a sigh.

“Cool, I’ll see you later honey buns,” he winked at me as he walked away.

“What the hell just happened?” I blinked as I turned and went inside. Tossing my keys onto the table by the door, I let the door swing shut and lock automatically. Setting my bag on the couch, I let a breath out as I looked at my home for now. It was pretty bland. I mean I was only renting it, so why make it all over. I worked some stuff into the bedroom, a few posters of my favorite bands that I actually bother to research.

Usually I just leave well enough alone and don’t bother going stalker on most of the band I listen to. One of the few that I do, The Offspring, were currently staring at me from the wall at the head of my bed. Blowing the boys in the frame a kiss, I got down to business. What black shirt to wear with what pair of jeans? That hard part was quickly put aside as I threw a tank top covered in silver glittery stars onto the bed with a pair of torn, worn out jeans I’ve had since Sophomore year in high school. I didn’t really need to shower, all I did was sit around all day. . .

Wait a minute, I was actually considering going out with him! What the hell’s wrong with me!? Shaking my head, I ignored the clothes and went to turn on the TV in the living room while I grabbed my lap top and hooked it up to the wall to charge. I was gonna have to work on some of those comic strips sooner or later, might as well get them started. I leaned over and grabbed my sketch book and a pencil before getting to work. About an hour later, I had three of the seven strips knocked out. The TV blaring Fuse, I merely listened half heartedly to the commercials before the actual music videos came back on.

A gruff voice came over the speakers, signaling me to turn the box back up. ‘I feel in insane! Every time I’m asked to compromise! Cause I’m afraid and stuck in my ways and that’s the way it staa-aa-ays!’ The fast beat of the song and the steady beat had me bobbing my head as I went over to the desk top I had with me as well and started to scan the comics I did have done so I could work on them in Photoshop. “ I’m not insane, I’m not insane,” I sang along half heartedly to the chorus. Letting the papers scan, I twirled in my seat to look at the screen.

“Oh fuck me running,” I blanch as I launch myself at the TV, getting inches away as I watched the little men in the music video rock out. “It’s Ollie!” I cried as the guitarist did a face melting solo. “And Harley!” Christmas man wasn’t so Christmassy in this video, though the blonde was still there. Then my eyes fell on the drummer. “And YOU!” I huffed at the screen as if they could actually hear me. “What the hell is going on!?” I screamed at the TV in confusion. “Why are you in my TV and Why is a rock person asking me out!?”

“Hey could you keep it down!?” My neighbor next door yelled at me through the open window, reminding me that I had left it open.

“Shut it! I’m busy losing my mind!” I screamed back at the older man. Glaring at him hard, he shuffled away muttering to himself. Oh this was going to be so much fun, I can just tell.

Blarg.
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