I suppose I will continue and post an official "first chapter" to go ahead and get things started for everyone who decides to begin reading this story.
I hope you enjoy!
And yes, Jimmy Sullivan did say "That's it, that's the last song for the album."
Also if you did not know, fun fact, "Fiction" was actually titled "Death".
No, this isn't some theory I've come up with, thinking that Jimmy killed himself or something, lol.

x

The days were as cold as they usually were. Ice hanging from roof tops, warm looking lights illuminating the empty streets in the usually busy downtown. Music echoed through the city, the only noise that sounded. It had only been days since we all received the news of Jimmy's death and things never felt farther from normal. There had yet to be a funeral, I assume the choice that lead up to that conclusion is unknown for a good reason, but it still didn't feel completely right.
I was pulled from my thoughts a few moments later when I heard a knock on the door. I looked up to see Matt now standing in front of me, his shirt slightly ripped and his hands balled into tight fists.
"The hell happened to you, Matt?"
"Nothing," He paused, avoiding eye contact with me for a few seconds, looking as if he was deciding if he should go ahead and say what he had planned to say when he first walked in. Finally opening his mouth, he spoke his thought outloud, "Johnny, Zacky and I are going out to get some drinks, do you want to join?"

What? I sarcastically smiled, shaking my head at the ground. "Of course you are. No, I'm good. I think I'm just going to hang out here for a bit. Don't really feel like going anywhere. Something horrible has recently happened to my friends and I."
Matt cocked his head to the side, now staring me dead in the eye. "What's your fuckin' problem? I just invited you for a couple drinks with us, is there anything wrong with that?"
"Nah, besides the fact that we all just found out our best friend died and you all are just going to go out, acting like it didn't even happen? And what the fuck happened to you, dude? Your shirts torn up, and your knuckles are all bruised."
Matt's face grew a little angrier than I expected and now, I could only imagine how loud this fight could get. "What the fuck Brian? All I fucking asked was if you wanted to get some drinks with us. A yes, or no question. You certainly did not have to say all of that extra bull. You think we're acting like it didn't happen by going out for a couple of drinks? Where did that even come from?"
"Nowhere," I sighed, not wanting to fight. My migraine was already killing me- I didn't need his noisy ass yelling at me too. "Just forget I said it. You guys have fun."
Matt didn't say anything else, just stood there motionless. Not that he needed to say anything more... It was visible none of the guys wanted to go out either, so I don't know why they were putting in an effort. He looked at me finally, his line of sight lingering on mine for a moment before he turned to go.

I don't know how long I sat there, but it didn't really matter. I was paralyzed with teriffied thoughts. After I was actually able to move, I wasted no time pulling off my shirt, throwing it in the corner of my bedroom. I unzipped my pants, letting their own weight pull them to the the ground. I picked them up, throwing them in the same direction I tossed my shirt and ventured into the bathroom. It was actually pretty rare these days that I got to sleep and shower in my own house, but just before we received the news about Jimmy, the guys and I decided to take a few months off from touring to just fuck around. I stood next to the shower, streching and yawning. I turned on the water and let it adjust to an almost burning temperature before I dropped my boxers and stepped in. Everything up until these past few days had been so fucking crystal clear. Everything was pretty much laid out in front of us all. For the most part we had a happy life, a great career and amazing fans. The pressure we all felt had been building up over the past year, but we found ways to adjust and live with it. What the hell could have possibly gone wrong between then and now? None of us could have ever predicted something like this would happen to ANY of us. Everything was burning down much too quickly. Things had just recently become a huge blur to me and it wasn't fun. For one, I got things mixed up. I started fucking up on everything I tried to play too. It was like I forgot how to play the guitar. I think the worst thing is the fact that the other members and I were becoming a little distant. You'd think that something like this would bring us all that much closer, but I guess not.

I don't know how long I'd been just standing there, letting the steaming water pour down on me as I leaned against the cold tile, but I guess it had been a while because before I knew it, I heard pounding on the bathroom door.
"Syn? Are you in thereeee?" I heard Johnny Christ sing, holding out the last syllable. His words were slurred together and he sounded like he was about to pass out. I couldn't tell if I actually responded, or if I just imagined that I did, but I found myself in a daze. I almost felt like a zombie. I didn't even turn off the water when I got out of the shower. I just grabbed the towel, winding it around my waist. I wrapped my fingers around the silver doorknob, and slowly turned it to the right. Was this really just a dream? If so, it was the most vivid one I'd ever had. I tried snapping myself out of this strange mental state that I had somehow entered, but I couldn't seem to shake it off. Maybe I was just in shock. Unbelievably, I was somehow dressed in a matter of moments and walking past all of my friends. I was just going through the same old motions.

I entered the guest bedroom, getting down on my hands and knees when I got to the bedside table. I retrieved a key from underneath, smiling a little when the light touched its golden tint. I held it tightly in my hand, approaching the others presence.
"Uh, guys..." My voice trailed off, thoughts wanting to take over, but I knew I couldn't let them just yet. "I'm going to go out for a walk..."
"Um, okay?" Zacky tilted his head to the side, probably wondering why I felt the need to notify them all of that. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, Zacky."
I quickly turned, not able to get out of that house fast enough. No, I wasn't actually going out for a walk, but hey, it wasn't any of their business what I was actually up to. I looked to see if our tour bus was still parked in it's temporary spot which was a few blocks down on an abandon property. I was very pleased when I saw the large, black bus still sitting there. I shot off in that direction, opening the already unlocked door. As soon as I was inside, I went straight for my bunk. I pulled back the curtain that hid me away while we were on tour and turned on the small light above me. I pulled out a small compartment in the wall, happy to see my special box. I whipped the key out, jamming it in the small key hole and turned it until the lid popped open. Inside it contained syringes and small plastic baggies that held purely beautiful, white crystals. I carefully set down the box and lifted up my mattress a little, feeling around for the other thing I needed. I finally was able to fish out a spoon that had a large-ish rubber band wrapped around it. I placed some of the solids from the bag onto the spoon, pulling out a lighter from my jacket pocket. I added a few drops of a liquid that was in a small tube which also came from this special box of mine. I reached for my lighter and held it under the spoon, moving it from side to side. I watched the flame that came out of the small opening, impressed with how well the fire held. It was almost mesmerizing. A few moments later I threw the lighter down and carefully picked up a syringe, putting the tip to the now liquid. Once the tube had been filled with as much as I needed, I dropped the spoon and set the syringe down on the bed. I tied the rubber band tightly around my arm, searching for the perfect spot. When I finally found somewhere I was comfortable with, I carefully pushed the needle in, injecting myself with this substance. Once all in, I threw the syringe down and took off the rubber band, wrapping it back around the spoon which was then placed back under my mattress. I closed and locked the box, putting it back into my compartment. I flung my head back onto my pillow and stared at the ceiling above me. At least I think it was above me. I don't know, maybe I was getting fucking delusional after all of this recent madness. Ha, that's a funny thought. Soon, I began to feel completely restless and I just couldn't stay still. I was twitching and my heart was racing. I stood up, smiling to myself, beginning to pace the tour bus. I believe I started to dance in attempted to put all of this energy at ease. The world felt so magnified; everything so fucking bright and everything made much more sense now. A thousand words running through my mind at once- how exciting, man?
I got out my phone with the strangest urge to start calling people. Of course you can probably tell how that would end up. I accidentally called myself, being connected with the automated voice on the other end of the line. I had way too many new voicemails. I needed to start checking this more often.
But... The last one that played made me freeze dead in my tracks. I stood there, staring blankly at the ground. "Jimmy? Jimmy is that you?" On the other end, I could hear Jimmy speaking plain as day. "Jimmy! Jimmy, what the fuck are you doing?" Nervousness with a hint of angry annoyance began pumping through my veins. "Where the hell are you man?"
He couldn't be fucking dead. I looked down at my phone to see the whole screen was blurry. I pressed the number which I believed would replay this message from my best friend, but this time I actually tried to listen.

"Hey buddy. I know I've been fucked up lately, but check this out. I got this idea for a song, okay? It was originally called Death, but I think I'll actually call it fiction now. I know we were talking about beginning our new album, so I went in and started. I can't wait to show it to you son's of bitches. I just think... That's it. That's the last song for this record."
Huh? I don't remember Jimmy showing us a song... I don't remember him even mentioning writing a song called "death" or "fiction"
Seconds later an automated voice came on, saying the same annoying things over and over agai- wait, what? I snorted, very confused with when it said this voicemail was received.
"Voicemail from 714-234-0658. Received, December 25th, 2009. To delete, press 1, to save, press 7."

I swallowed hard, hanging up my phone. I looked to see it was January 2nd. I counted the days in my head, realizing he had sent this exactly one week ago... Three days before he died. I felt very panicked at this point and the room sorta began spinning. I fell back against my bunk, fear slowly taking control. I'm not entirely sure why this scared me so badly, but that didn't matter right now.
He didn't show us the song... Why didn't he show us the song that day...? His first title choice, "death", struck me as weird. What could the song have possibly been talking about? I mean sure, we had dark lyrics sometimes, but this was just fucking scary. And then the name fiction; a nickname he gave to himself. Is he saying... The song is about him? What could Jimmy and death have in common?
I didn't know what to do. I rolled onto my bed, my pulse getting faster and faster. I stared at the ceiling again, talking to myself.
"I gotta find that song. I gotta find that song, I have got to find that song."
I laid and laid there for what felt like hours and stared at that dim light that seemed to get brighter and brighter with each passing second. I'm surprised I was able to do so for that long.
I remember how I continued saying I gotta find that song until my throat felt raw. I kept on until things went blurry and things went completely dark.

Fuck, Jimmy... What the hell did you get yourself into?