Untitled Part 1

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Where the fuck is my dog hiding this time? The little bastard only weighs ten pounds but still, I should be able to find his little ass!

Growling, I searched under the bed. Nothing. I checked under the couch, behind the couch, under the tables, still nothing.

I have to go to work, and I swear Bruce knows this too. He pulls the hiding game on me so I won't put him in his crate while I am gone. If I don't put him in there, the little fucker chews up everything. Last time it was my favorite pair of heels.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I headed outside to see if he possibly slipped past me when I took the garbage out earlier. Panic is starting to slip through my veins as I looked around the block. Bruce is a dachshund, and I love him to pieces, despite him being an asshole some days.

"Fuck!" I growled out loud.

"Hey girl. Your fucking dog was in my yard again." I heard behind me.

My shoulders tensed at the voice. I am physically cringing when I heard his voice. My neighbor is not overly friendly by any means. If anything, he's kind of an arrogant ass.

Knowing I had to face him, I took a deep breath and turned to face the man. Oh yeah. He is definitely in a mood today.

Before me stood a taller man with longer black hair that almost hit his shoulders. His pale skin stood out against his black eyes. The perfect high cheekbones that I'm jealous of. The firm jaw that is clenched in irritation at me. His white v-neck t-shirt clung to his chiseled chest. Ripped black faded jeans. The mural of tattoos that littered his arms and hands.

Oh, and let's not forget who he really is.

Mr. Synyster Gates in the flesh.

Most would die to be in my shoes and have him as a neighbor. But me? Shit, I wish his ass would move out or go on tour. He is so cocky and pissed off all the time. Since the day I moved in, I've received nothing but glares or smug looks from him. I tried to be friendly when I moved in a few months ago, but the most I got was a nod from him. I have no idea what the hell could be so bad in his glorious life. I really don't.

Don't get me wrong, I grew up in Huntington Beach and have followed them since their start in the music world. I love their music.

But meeting Captain Dickhead hasn't been anything I would of thought it should of been.

I mean, I have heard that they are nothing but nice guys over the years. Seeing this side of Mr. Gates is a huge turn off for me and their music.

"Wanna keep your fucking dog out of my yard?" He growled at me.

"Sorry." I whispered.

He handed me Bruce who was more than delighted to see me. His whole body wiggled in my arms as I carefully took him. Brian gave me another glare.

"He must of slipped out when I took the garbage out earlier." I said, petting Bruce.

"Not a very responsible pet owner, are you?" He snapped at me.

My eyes gaped at him. Bruce is the highlight of my life! I spend a fortune on this damn dog! That dog lives better than I do!

"Excuse me?" I glared.

"You didn't even know your precious pet was gone. That tells me you can't be that worried about him." He glared at me.

"You know jack shit about me! Who the fuck are you to judge me?!" I shrieked.

Brian raised an eyebrow at me, unaffected by my outburst. He slid on a pair of sunglasses, crossing his arms at me. I watched as the door to his house opened. Oh for fuck sake! More of his band members stepped out onto his porch. I knew exactly who they all were the moment I saw them.

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