Syn's POV

Micah and I, unexpectedly so, fell asleep on the roof. Luckily, none of us were caught in an awkward situation that morning. The unfortunate thing, however, was that we were woken up by the rain. Droplets soaked our clothes and hair and we took cover at the top of the stairway leading to the rooftop. We stayed there for a while before deciding to head back to the hotel room, knowing we would both be given crap for being alone on the roof all night.

I opened the door to the room and placed my guitar down gently against the wall and collapsed on the bed, Micah following suit. Zacky and Matt were still asleep. Lucky us. I fell asleep yet again. And I was too tired to care.

Micah's POV

Syn had fallen asleep almost immediately after we got back to the hotel room. I remembered the conversation we had last night. He agreed with me when I said his guitar solo sounded like it was being played out of denial. But what denial could he possibly have? Could it be the same denial I'm experiencing? Attraction towards each other without reason? That's what my denial was caused by. No. It was highly unlikely. Syn didn't seem the type to be easily wooed by any random girl he meets.

Syn stirred in his sleep, making me wonder what he could've been dreaming about. He seemed to move around a lot when he dreamt.

~Later That Day, Syn's POV~

"Yo, Gates," Matt called from the bathroom.

"Yeah?" I answered, looking up from a random magazine I started to read.

"I think you should take the woman shooting. She could pick up some skills from you, and at least be able to defend herself if anything were to happen," he replied. Micah had gone back up to the roof about an hour ago.

I sighed, "sure." I jumped out of the bed and fished my pistol out of my guitar case, loading a round into the gun. I grabbed two more rounds… just in case.

"I'll be back in a couple hours," I said as I shut the door and walked down the hallway and up the stairway to the roof. Micah was spread out on the gravel, staring up at the clouds and bright blue sky.

"Micah," I said, announcing my presence.

"Oh. Hi, Syn," she greeted, looking behind her to meet my eyes, "what do you need?" she asked politely.

"We're going shooting," I replied bluntly. She furrowed her brows in confusion.

"I understand why, but where?" she asked.

"There's an abandoned target range out in the outskirts of town," I answered.

"Oh. Okay." Her face simply radiated unhappiness.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting down next to her in the gravel. She shook her head.

"It's nothing, really. Just a certain… issue is going on." My brows knitted together. And with that one sentence… now I knew, that we were both in denial for the same reason. We weren't just attracted to each other, but we were in love with each other. But why?

Micah's POV

I simply refused to accept that I was in love with Syn. I'd been down that road before… with both of my previous abusive boyfriends, in fact. And I'm not willing to go down it again. Syn and I waved down a taxi, which drove us about a mile out from this supposed abandoned shooting range. We ended up having to walk the last mile to the range. When we got there, it was very secluded. Aspens and pines towered over us and lush, green grass sprouted from every inch of the ground. It was beautiful.

I settled my eyes upon a medium-sized, red and white target about fifty feet away from us. I guess, that's what we're gonna be shooting.

"Ever shot before?" Syn asked, pulling his gun from an inner pocket within his new leather jacket.

"No," I said simply, eyeing the pistol he had in his hand.

"Do you know anything about shooting?" he continued.

I nodded and replied, "yeah. Sort of. Really just that you aim as best you can and pull the trigger." He smiled a bit.

"That's actually almost all you have to do." He handed me the pistol. I made damn sure to keep my finger away from the trigger for the time being.

"Pull the trigger," he instructed. I stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Don't you want me to aim first?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked in a serious tone. I hesitatingly nodded.

"Then pull the trigger." And I did. I was utterly confused. Nothing happened.

"Why didn't-"

"The safety's on," he said, pointing to a little red switch at the top of the gun.

"Never turn the safety off unless you're about to shoot. It's common knowledge," he informed, "now, you can aim it at the target." I rose the gun in front of me, aiming at the target with both hands firmly gripping it.

"Turn the safety off," he said. One of my thumbs clicked it off.

"Don't shoot just yet." I held my stance. I suddenly felt Syn's hand on mine, making my cheeks heat.

"Keep both eyes open. You're aiming to the right. With both eyes open, you have a better chance at hitting the middle," he said, his voice lowering in tone. I opened my other eye and readjusted the aim. Syn's other hand braced my elbow.

"W-what are you doing?" I stammered, though not taking my eyes off the target.

"Bracing you. Trust me. You're gonna need it," he replied. I refocused on the target, placing my pointer finger on the trigger. I took a deep breath and tried my best to hold my shaky hands steady. Syn, noticing my shaky aim, placed his hand under the gun to make it more sturdy.

I pressed down on the trigger and a bullet shot straight out, hitting the target just a little to the left of the bullseye. I finally got where Syn was coming from when he told me I would need the bracing. The kickback was pretty heavy and I'm sure it bruised my hand.

"Pretty good," he complimented. "From the looks of it, though. You see to shoot to the left a bit. We could work that out in time." I nodded and lowered the gun to my side.

"Safety," Syn reminded me with an amused smirk. I quickly flipped the little red switch to the off position. I shook my bruised hand out and looked up to him.

"I'm not going to brace you on the next one. You think you'll be okay?" he asked. I nodded again and averted my attention back to the target, raising the pistol up in front of me once again and flipping the safety off. I took in a slow and steady breath and this time, I succeeded in keeping my hands still. I pulled the trigger back slowly until the bullet was released from the barrel and punctured just outside the bullseye, again, slightly to the left. The kickback was even stronger on this one and the force had made my bruised hand hurt even worse.

I flipped the safety back on and looked down at my pained hand. Syn gently grasped my hand and stared at it.

"There's a way you can avoid this," he said meeting my eyes with his warm hazel ones.

"How?" I asked, curious.

"You can get you hands down lower on the grip."

"Oh," I responded. Though I only shot twice, I was kind of tired.

"I'd love to continue. But I'm pretty tired," I told him. He shrugged.

"That's fine. You want to go to a bar or something? It might help with whatever was on your mind earlier," he offered. I nodded and handed the gun back to him. He called up a taxi and we were taken back into the city.