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RE-STITCH THESE WOUNDS ☆ andy biersack.

02: SOFT SPINE. — “i hate the ones that love you, and those who profit from you. it’s time to reap the tide you sow.”

wc: 16.1k. warnings: violence if u squint. masterlist.

☆ portland, oregon. late august, 2023. dahlia’s pov.

★

adrenaline left a smoke trail behind my stomping footsteps as i shoved through the hoards of people filling up the house party that night. speed-walking, i searched endlessly for the exit to the backyard, until i finally happened upon the glass, sliding door that would lead me to my target. i forced the threshold open with an almost violent pull, letting a cool breeze into the loud house before i stepped out into the silence of the night.

i found him in seconds— the towering, back profile of the man who’d been poisoning my name. cigarette smoke clouded above his head as he held his tattooed hand to his mouth, peacefully looking out to the gray sky beyond the spacious backyard, having not yet realized he wasn’t alone.

i yanked on the cold handle to the outside half of the door, slamming it shut again, ensuring the sound it elicited would make my presence known. his body flinched when the echo reached his ears, his head pivoting on his suddenly straight neck to find me. me, who was already marching towards him with not only a purpose, but two clenched fists hanging at my sides, sliding the ball of my thumb across the stacks of rings that decorated my fingers.

i’d only caught a glimpse of his arctic eyes widening as i reared my arm back, some kind of inhuman force taking over my body, just long enough to give me the strength to throw a right hook straight into his jaw. a throaty sound of agony escaped him, his upper body doubling over upon impact.

“jesus christ!” he exclaimed, following his groan of pain. “fuckin’ psycho!” he damned me, the hand that wasn’t busy holding tight to his cigarette rushing upwards to cradle the blow i’d left on his chiseled face. “the fuck is wrong with you?” he barked after he’d slowly stood up straight again.

“are you fucking stupid? what’s wrong with me?” i shouted, fighting against my wavering breath. “you’re fucking disgusting! that’s what’s fucking wrong with me!” i cursed him through bared teeth, struggling to hide the hurt that laid behind my fury, as our angry voices began to overlap and explode into a loud argument.

★

“dahlia.” adrienne’s voice broke through the foggy haze of the nightmare-ish memory i’d become caught up in— only to pull me back into a reality that wasn’t much more comforting. “did you hear anything i just said?”

“uh,” i stammered, straightening my back against the plush arm of the sofa chair i was awkwardly sprawled out in, my legs thrown over the opposite side. “yeah,” a heavy sigh escaped me. “all of it, unfortunately.” absentminded, i rapidly flicked the end of the pen between my fingers against the empty, open page of the notebook propped up against my thighs.

i knew my bandmates would be calling me back into the booth to track vocals for our new single any moment now; the new single i swore i had lyrics written for before we even got to the studio that day. i had the idea floating around my head that i’d like to write some type of commentary piece on the state of the rock and metal scene; to somehow artistically express my particular grievances against a few of the reigning kings of the genre. but when it came to the words, i had nothing to show for myself, the blank, unlined paper beneath my hands taunting me with its emptiness. “tsunami sea - track five,” titled the page in bold, capital letters, but that was all.

little did i know how quickly i’d be pulled out of this rut, the ton of bricks that our manager dropped in my lap that mid-afternoon waking up just enough of the exact emotion i needed to get the cogs in my head to start turning again.

“you can’t hate me forever, you know.” she relaxed into the backrest of the couch she was sunk into across the small room, her nails loudly clicking against the keys of her laptop.

“remind me when exactly i said those words, again?” i did the opposite, sitting up further at the sound of her harsh accusation to shoot her a look, the skin between my brows wrinkling.

“you didn’t have to. i can see it in that awful look you keep giving me.” she replied, her eyes not leaving her computer screen even once. “like you’re trying to kill me with your mind.”

i couldn’t exactly deny her observation. for months now, i’d been ignorantly brushing off how oddly secretive she’d been about what she kept referring to as the 'co-headlining tour' we’d be going on in the coming year. but the truth about what she insisted was ‘just a couple of shows’ for us to play before we finished the new record had to come out eventually. and unfortunately for both us, today was the day i backed her into a corner she couldn’t get out of— the day she finally spit out that just a couple of shows, was actually a several month, cross-country, triple-headline tour of north america with none other than motionless in white and black veil brides.

“it’s just,” an exasperated sound escaped my throat as i tossed my head back, my hands flying up to hide my face. “in all of the years you’ve been managing this band—” my fingers dragged down my cheeks until my arms fell back into my lap. “what’s the one, singular thing i have specifically, repeatedly told you?”

“lia,” she groaned, leaning her head on her own shoulder, only to find me staring firmly back at her in wait. her eyes drifted shut, exhaustion showing on her every feature as she reluctantly repeated what she knew i wanted to hear. “do whatever i think is right, just never book you on a tour with black v—”

“—never book us on a tour with black veil fucking brides. that’s it. that’s literally all i’ve ever asked.” poisonously, i spoke over her attempt to appease me, her verbal reminder of the situation at hand only stoking the fire burning atop my head. “and you didn’t clue me in until everything was already decided, because you fuckin’ knew how i’d react. so, yeah. forgive me for being a little bit irritable.”

“you really need to at least try to see the good in all of this.” she argued, a stern look settling on her face as her attention returned to whatever she was smoothly typing before, her glasses tipping down the bridge of her nose.

”oh, do i?” i scoffed, nowhere near finished provoking her with my complaints and criticisms.

“look—” she pushed the lid of her computer halfway down, ripping the dark brown frames off of her matching, chestnut eyes. “you hate him, don’t you?” i stared right back at her with my lips shut and my tongue between my teeth, her question being far too rhetorical for me to even consider answering. “so, what sounds worse to you? spending a couple of months in proximity to him and finally putting all of this shit to bed, or spending maybe the rest of your career with his name attached to you? all because— what? you said a couple of dumb things in front of a camera when you were younger?” her rant was packed full of exaggerations, but unfortunately founded on truth.

my head pivoted just slightly away from her face as she painted a picture on the inner walls of my mind; the memory of why, as far as the general public was aware, the vocalist of black veil brides and i notoriously didn’t exactly see eye to eye. years of fan theories and discussions circling around our supposed feud all seemed to lead back to one place— an interview of damien, kurt, eric and i, dating back to just over five years ago now, hardly an hour after our first warped tour set of the summer. more specifically, some choice words i impulsively let slip about my opinion of andy and his band during said interview, that alternative press magazine, of course, decided to keep in the final cut.

it didn’t take long for the little comments i’d made to make it back to the man himself, and start a back and forth that would forever mark both our bands with the scarlet letter of endless internet rumors and speculations of why— why we seemed to hate each other so much, despite the fact that we’d supposedly never interacted face to face.

and now, five years later, his team was extending an olive branch; contacting my manager and suggesting that, in the name of public relations, our bands go on tour together to symbolically smoke the peace pipe, for the sake of both of our reputations. i could hardly believe that the woman i was sitting across from took such obvious bait and agreed to something so ridiculous, let alone right under my nose.

“is putting on just enough of a face that it would completely clear the air really not worth it to you? to get people to finally stop associating you two after all these years? to get rid of this weird animosity between your audiences—?” she went on, reeling me back in from my own thoughts, most of which, at that moment, only served to make me angrier.

“do i look like i give a shit what his half-brained fans think of us?” i snapped, hardly giving her the chance to breathe between sentences before i continued not so delicately sharing my opinion. “does anyone even fucking listen to them anymore? how much of an audience could we possibly be alienating because i allegedly dislike him?”

“allegedly—?” she returned the favor, sarcastically parroting me, but i spoke right over her.

“i get on stage every night we’re on tour, and preach to these people about integrity; not making yourself smaller for anyone else’s sake.” i sat up further, passionately speaking with my hands and counting the points i made on my fingers. “and from what i’m hearing, you’d ideally like me to defy everything that i stand for, because we might make a little more money.”

“dahlia,” she tried to interrupt me with yet another, tired sigh of my name. “i didn’t—”

“i would rather lose half of the crowd we already have, than double it because i compromised on my morals, and pretended to be that motherfucker’s friend.” i grumbled my grievances in just about as much detail as i could muster, gripping the pen sitting loose on my lap back between my left thumb and first finger. “what’s the appeal of any of this from, like— a business standpoint, anyways? how much could they possibly be bringing in on a tour nowadays?” i couldn’t help but ask the snarky question plagueing my mind.

“i didn’t say anything about acting like his friend.” adrienne passed right over my bitter commentary. “i just need you to be civil. do the couple of interviews we’re gonna set up for you, him and chris, play nice enough to get rid of this narrative, prove to the world that you can peacefully be in a room together, and i’ll be happy. fuckin’— over the moon, even.”

i instantly scoffed at the thought. “and what exactly would you like me to say during these interviews when they inevitably ask us about it?” my brows furrowed hard, before i put on a synthetically positive sound. “oh, now that i’m in my thirties, i’ve put away childish things, y’know, like— having a backbone, saying what i think. so, yeah. i’d say me and this fucking dickhead are pretty much cool now.” i abruptly dropped the mocking voice, lifting my head and turning to meet addie’s eyes again. “is that good? was that convincing?” i asked.

she quietly tightened her crossed arms, a strict but unsurprised look that screamed ‘you’ve made your point’ painted her expression.

“look,” i went on. “i might not be necessarily proud of every last word i said when i was twenty-five and looking for a fight everywhere i went. i’ll give you that.” i sympathized with the girl i once was. “but i’m certainly not going to ‘put on a face,’” i repeated exactly what she’d asked of me. “just so that spineless sons-of-bitches like andy biersack and all of his ass-kissing friends can sleep a little better at night.”

“jesus. why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” she quipped as i lifted my hips up just enough to dig in the pocket of my sweatpants for the little, hot pink vape i’d left buried in the loose fabric.

“i’ll go on the tour. since i obviously don’t have much of a choice at this point. but i’m not biting my fuckin’ tongue.” i replied grimly just before lifting it to my lips, inhaling and blowing the smoke to my left side. “i’m sorry. it’s just not who i am. you know that.”

my own voice lingered and reverberated in my head, until it finally convinced my pen to print the single word near the top of the paper, alongside an unsure question mark— ‘spineless?’

“you’re absolutely not sorry, and that’s fine. but i need you to try to trust me a little bit.” she remarked, earning a little, silent shake of my head as my pupils focused on the fragmented lyrics i’d begun to scribble just as quickly as they entered my mind. “have i ever steered you wrong before?”

“addie,” i lightly sighed at the question, my line of sight unmoving from the book in my lap. “it’s really not about—” you, is what i would’ve said, if she had allowed me to finish my sentence.

“i promise, it’ll be here and over before you know it. and then we can really focus in on the new album cycle. by then, it’ll be like it never even happened.” i knew the words she spoke over mine with were meant to ease me, but the pressure in my brain was only growing tighter with the passing seconds. i thought, if only she had a clue; even just a peek into the memories circling behind my eyes and making me dizzy, then she’d understand just how wrong she was. but my pride wouldn’t allow my lips to part again. “here,” she won back just a touch more of my attention when i felt my phone buzz against my thigh. “i just sent you the promo poster we had mocked up. if both their teams agree on it, we’re hoping to announce the shows in the next few weeks.”

i clutched the palm sized device and flipped it over, unlocking it to find the photo she’d texted me— a dark graveyard scene with three matching tombstones, all decorated with each of our band’s respective logos and our names above them in bright red font meant to look like blood was dripping from the letters.

“trinity of terror?” a less than impressed tone escaped me without hesitation as my pupils flicked across the image, falling on the alliterative title of the tour in bold, white font. “we really spent a while at the drawing board with that one, huh?”

“could you maybe try not to be hateful for, like, five minutes?” she came back at me with her own snarky, little question; one she already knew the answer to. i ignored it, my brows wrinkling as my fingertips pinched the screen to close up on the locations and numbers listed along the bottom of the photo.

“this is, like, forty five dates.” i stated, letting out an almost amused sound, sure that the poster was merely a draft; an exaggerated mock-up to use until we heard back from every venue. adrienne’s silence forced my head to tick upwards, just in time to see the nonchalant nod she’d responded with. “this is official?” disbelief widened my eyes and raised my voice. i scoffed, letting my neck back on the armrest when she repeated the same reply, looking back at me with a straight face. “fuckin’ act nice—” i grumbled mockingly, staring at the dark side of my eyelids.

nowadays, i was no stranger to a tiresome, long stretch of shows. i often joked that aside from our time in the studio between, it felt like we’d been on one, never-ending tour since we’d come out of hiatus a little over two years ago; that i was about one opening gig away from forgetting what the inside of my apartment looked like. being on my feet all day, performing every night, not getting to sleep until the small hours of the morning, and having to do so on a moving bus was fine. i could cope with the exhaustion and stress of three months on the road for the sake of the fans and my love for the job. but three months stuck in close quarters with that motherfucker on top of it all was a completely different story.

“we’re expecting a really big response. it’s called supply and demand.” she commented, as if i was listening.

“—you’ll be lucky if i haven’t killed him or myself by the time this shit is over.”

“oh my god, lia. i’m not asking you to kiss him on the fucking mouth.” she snapped, finally giving back into our push and pull. “you don’t even have to interact. just pretend you like each other when people are watching.” she stated, like it was some kind of compromise. “or at least like you don’t hate each other’s guts.”

“i’m a musician. not an actor.” i reminded her, derisively. “and from the very little i’ve seen of that ridiculous movie he did, he’s not much of one either. so, i would seriously lower your expectations.” the small recollections my brain could picture of that god awful film forced my face to cringe as i began to mindlessly doodle cobwebs in the top corner of my notebook paper.

“his team has come off as nothing but willing and receptive.” she replied, sharply. “i have a seriously hard time believing he’s going to be anywhere near as difficult about all of this as you’re being.” a short burst of laughter instantly forced my lips open before she could close hers.

“god,” a sardonic sort of sigh punctuated my amusement, lifting my vape back up as i stared straight forward through my narrowed eyes. “what did i do wrong in a past life to deserve this conversation?” i grumbled with a sarcastic, half smile tugging at my mouth before i took another hit.

“is it so impossible to believe that maybe you’re the bitter one, and he’s just let it go?” she asked, her tone unforgiving, in a way i’d learned to ignore. adrienne always seemed to consider keeping my ego in check one of her many responsibilities as our manager; i knew, deep down, that this was all her attempt at giving me some constructive criticism. but she was dead wrong this time, and i intended on making that known.

i exhaled the cloud behind my teeth, before muttering a venomous— "that man has never just let something go in his life."

“well, then it’s good to know you two will have at least one thing to relate to each other on, isn’t it?” her stone cold side eye dug into my skin just long enough for me to notice, before she pushed her glasses back onto her nose and dove back into her rapid typing. “how could you possibly know that, anyways?” she questioned, her head gently shaking from side to side.

“because, i—” the utter frustration halted halfway up my throat, knowing much better than to let what i could’ve said escape the padlocked box in my mind. i bit down hard on my tongue when adrienne’s head whipped back to me, a suddenly interested, and somewhat concerned look on her face when i’d raised my voice. she stared in wait as i took a short breath, clenching my teeth until i found the words. “because you’re right, okay?” i admitted as much as i was willing to, earning a little, confused raise of her left brow. “it takes one to know one. and unless he’s done some— fuckin’— buddhist level soul-searching since the last time we interacted, i don’t see any version of all of this that doesn’t end in fuckin’ flames.”

“dahlia,” adrienne sighed, clearly unswayed by my dramatics. “look, i’ll give it you. you usually read people pretty well.” i waited in the gap between her words, instantly feeling my stomach twist in a knot when she finished her thought. “but correct me if i’m wrong— you’ve never even really spoken to this guy. you’re pretty much strangers, in every sense of the word. there’s always a chance you don’t have him as figured out as you think that you do.”

a guilt-like ache filled me, closer and closer to the brim with every second she went on with the same rhetoric— a small list of things i wish were true. never even spoken. pretty much strangers. don’t have him figured out.

maybe it was true— that i didn’t know the man from adam anymore. but his behavior in the public eye spoke volumes. anyone with half a clue in this industry knew exactly how he carried himself; keeping a list of everyone that’s ever wronged him, criticized or underestimated him or his band. screaming, swearing, throwing microphones, and jumping into crowds after anyone who as much as lifted a middle finger to him. tragically, adrienne was right about one thing. if there was anything that could possibly bind me and that two-faced son of a bitch together, it was exactly that— the everpresent, planet sized chip on both of our shoulders.

perhaps i had a little bit of an issue with my pride, but i wasn’t so far gone that i couldn’t see my own flaws; my complete inability to relax my jaw, unclench my fist and release the past from my grip, and my insatiable need to prove anyone who doubted me wrong included. him and i viewed the world through the same, blood red vision, always watching behind our own backs for who might be holding the next knife. and i knew for sure that without an apology straight from my mouth, there was simply no possibility he’d abandoned the grudge he surely held against me for the way i spoke of him— embarrassed him.

i couldn’t expect her to believe me; not when i’d spent so long keeping the real story hidden away in the back of my head, convincing myself that it would surely never be relevant again. but reality was slowly closing in on me— that the past was finally coming back to haunt me, and eventually the other shoe would drop whether i liked it or not.

it would be better to just spill my guts now than have it forced out of me later, i pondered, anxiously flicking my pen against my notebook at warp speed again. i’ve never kept a secret from her like this. if there’s anyone in the world i could trust with it all, it’s her. i fought with myself, the faint buzz of the ringing in my ears drowning out the distant sound of an unfinished song repeating over and over from the next room. just fucking spit it out, dahlia. there’s a lot you don’t know. there’s a lot you don’t know—

“i think i need to tell you something.” hesitance and cowardice forced a different collection of words from my throat, quickly, and in a tone suddenly clean of any irony or bitterness. her head softly pivoted towards me, the sincerity of my voice clearly drawing her in. the smooth skin between her thick, dark brows wrinkled as she gazed at me in wait through her prescription lenses.

“what does that mean?” she questioned when opening my mouth again suddenly began to feel like a death sentence. but just as i began to accept my fate, like some kind of act of divine intervention, the subtle sound of the door behind my back clicking open alerted us both. i whipped my head around, finding our drummer, eric, peeking out with his lips halfway separated.

“oh, um— sorry.” he apologized, like he recognized he’d interrupted something; little did he know he was my saving grace. “we’re ready for you in here whenever you’re good t’go, lia.”

fuck. my eyes darted to the borderline blank sheet of paper sitting face up on my lap. “okay. i’ll, uh—” i stammered, straightening my spine and focusing all of my attention back on the lack of ink on the page. “i’ll be there in a second.” with the loose promise i’d left him with, eric disappeared back into the control room. “fuck.” i repeated, out loud this time, tossing my legs over the front of the loveseat to plant my feet on the floor.

i bent in half over the book resting on my knees, running one hand through my hair to hold my head up, while the other gripped tightly to my uninspired pen. the only words i had jotted down echoed in repetition in my mind— spineless? i hate the ones that love you. you all deserve each other.

“alright. we’ll, um..” i stood in defeat, tucking my open book in my underarm, coarsely running my fingers through my hair. “we’ll talk more about everything a little later. i better get in there ‘n fess up that i don’t have shit yet—” i’d hardly pivoted to face the doorway before adrienne called after me.

“wait,” her voice held my feet in place, against my better judgement. my head tilted just slightly to the side, as if i was even the slightest bit confused about what she wanted to hear. “what were you gonna say?”

“hm—? oh. um,” i stammered, faking ignorance out of regret. “it’s really not a big deal. i’ll, uh—”

“it’s not?” her cocoa eyes narrowed, a clear skepticism taking control over her voice. “sounded pretty serious.”

“it’s.. i’ll tell you later.” i fibbed, fully knowing i’d do everything in my power to keep from resurrecting the conversation after i turned my back on her. “look, um— me and the guys’ll get you a setlist in the next few weeks. and then we can start discussing, like, stage design, and..” as my pupils wandered to the pattern in the carpet, where exactly i was headed in my sentence escaped me. my brain was reaching maximum capacity, endless thoughts bumping shoulders and struggling to breathe the longer i allowed myself to hypothesize about what life would look like in the coming new year. “i don’t know.” i finally grumbled, doing my best to pretend like the feeling wasn’t suffocating me; like what i’d almost managed to admit to adrienne wasn’t still trying to claw its way out of my throat. “all of the usual shit.”

“right. uh,” she began in a tone i recognized immediately— a soft, hesitant sound that told me she was preparing to walk on eggshells. “about that.” her eyes purposefully avoided mine, dropping down to the dim shine of her laptop screen as the tips of her pointer and middle fingers circled on her trackpad. a million predictions of what that could possibly mean rushed to the forefront of my mind.

“what?” i asked, admittedly ready to have a certain attitude about her answer before she’d even given it to me. a lull of silence sat between us like a time bomb before she finally tipped the lid of her computer down again, as if to prove to me that i had her full attention.

”his manager made a point in his communications with me,” she began, sinking further into the cushion behind her and fluttering her eyes, almost out of annoyance. “of ‘politely requesting’ that you’d,” an exhausted inhale and sigh followed what sounded like a direct quote from someone among his fleet of minions, everything about her demeanor justifying the white, hot feeling i was already beginning to feel course through me. “‘abstain from putting any of the songs from your second EP on your setlist for this tour.’”

“oh, fuck off.” i spit out the venom waiting patiently behind my teeth. a snarled, sarcastic half-smile lifted the right side of my lips as my hand shot to the spine of my notebook, pulling it out from underneath my arm and letting it hang by my opposite hip.

“i know,” she quickly spoke in the split second my lungs forced me to take a breath, surely knowing there was no chance she’d be heard over the vexation bound to come spewing from my mouth.

i paced for a moment, a small, ironic laugh leaving me as i shook my head back and forth. “this is the guy you think has moved on?” i whipped back around to face her again, feeling my body temperature gently rising.

“you haven’t played any of those songs live in years. what’s the difference, really?” she desperately tried to appeal to my better nature, which had long since faded into dust.

“uh, how about being explicitly told that i can’t?” my amusement faded as i stated what i’d thought was obvious. “i have my own PR team. i don’t need a step by step on how to conduct myself from someone else’s management.”

“dahlia,” with how many times she’d tiredly stated it that afternoon, i was quickly growing sick of the sound of my own name.

“and not that it matters,” i continued, disregarding how our voices briefly fought for dominance. “but we stopped playing those songs because we got tired of them, and they don’t reflect what we’re trying to do as a band anymore. not because i’ve backed down from how i felt when we wrote them.” my arms tightened into one another as i turned my uncomfortably warm, red face away for a beat, my nose scrunched in exasperation. “jesus christ.” i growled, somewhat to myself before facing adrienne again. “this is what i’m talking about. he’s so fucking soft. he can’t even handle the smallest amount of criticism without fucking falling apart.”

“girl.” her eyes widened just a touch, her expression and tone begging me to come back down to earth. “i love you. but i think we both know calling those songs a ‘small amount of criticism’ is a little bit of a stretch.”

i grit my teeth behind my sealed lips, dead staring at the closest wall as my anger manifested as an ache in the side of my skull; the tight grip of my fist; the heat beneath my skin. a forced inhale entered my lungs through my flared nostrils and back out in a rough breath.

“if he’s genuinely still thinking about me, or songs i wrote eight years ago,” i shut my eyes and spoke slow, allowing my words to soften only in sound, not in meaning. “he seriously needs to consider reevaluating his priorities.” they slowly drifted back open, only to dart down to the book tucked loosely between my arms. “because i don’t fucking think about him.” once more, i grabbed it by its hard edge, tossing the pages back open to where i’d left off. “and i haven’t in a long, long time.” i stated, coldly as i read back over the half baked sentences i’d left behind. “practically asking us for a fuckin’ favor and then trying to dictate what we can and can’t do. fuck that shit.” without much permission from my brain, my feet began to pace again as i mumbled my grievances to myself.

impulsively, i crossed out the suffix in ‘spineless,’ pondering for only a moment or two before penning four letters that had continued to needle me from the second i pronounced them out loud, in the space behind the word that remained— s-o-f-t.

soft spine.

“i hear you. i really do. but you have so many other songs. ones that you like so much more. you’ve said yourself that it’s the project you’re the least proud of.” i didn’t have the heart or the attention span to tell adrienne she was completely wasting her breath as i became fully immersed in my suddenly inspired scribbling, leaning the hard, back cover of my notebook against my forearm as i wrote. “i mean, for god’s sake, you have a whole, new EP to play. is the world really gonna end if you just put your head down for once?”

any other time, i would’ve easily taken the bait of this little anecdote and argued my side; fired back with some self-assured comment about how i’d never done anything spiteful that wasn’t completely justified. but i didn’t even flinch, all too consumed with keeping the moment of genius that had finally struck me alive. the ink on the end of my ballpoint messily spelled out slant rhymes— keep the bind. eyes wide. regicide.

“hello?” her volume raised enough to startle me, my shoulders and neck quickly straightening from their slouched position. “are you listening to me?” she asked, her timbre nearly identical to when she’d pulled me out of my daydreaming just minutes before.

“what—? yeah,” our voices collided as i mindlessly conceded for the sake of ending such a miserable conversation. “yeah, fine.” my head hung back down as i chewed on my lip and returned to the train of thought i was desperately trying to hang onto. it was hardly a formal agreement, apathetically assuring her i’d do what was being asked of me. but if it really came down to it, that i’d be really, somehow held to my word, the perfect loophole was sitting right in my palms. “just, i don’t know,” swiftly and half-blindly, i made my way to the doorway, loosely wrapping my fingers around the handle. “give me updates when you have them.” i glanced over my shoulder.

adrienne gifted me one, last, solemn, but understanding look before i shut the door behind my back. the low chatter of the men around the small room disguised the quiet prayer i muttered beneath my breath—

“god, help us.”

☆ january 2nd, 2024.

1:46am. we were likely just a few hours outside of our destination in phoenix, and i had yet to get even a blink of sleep. the first night in the bus was always the worst, my sleeplessness often leading me down an inevitable path of doomscrolling until i couldn’t stand to keep my eyes open any longer. selfishly, i’d wandered onto my own instagram profile, re-reading the overly enthusiastic caption on the story i’d posted just hours before for what was surely the hundredth time now.

throwback to the best summer of my life >:) trinity of terror shows start in phoenix tomorrow night! so stoked to see all of your cute faces again <3

above the typed words was a photo of me from sometime in july of the year behind us, when we were opening for korn and gojira. it couldn’t have been any cooler than a hundred degrees outside that day, making my onstage outfit much less complex out of complete necessity; a little pair of low rise, black shorts, ankle high demonias, and a t-shirt from korn’s merch table that i took the liberty of chopping into a cut-off tank.

as terrible as staring into the bright light of my phone in the deep hours of the evening was for me, it was somewhat of a comfort to fondly reminisce about the warm nights we were performing beside two of the greatest rock bands in the world. it was almost comforting enough to help me push down the dread of being contractually bound to such a shit show for the next three months. but still not enough.

my eyes nearly fell out of my head when i made the mistake of sliding up to see the view count on the post. like a sore thumb, there it sat at the very top of a long list of usernames and profile pictures in little circles— a shrunken version of a dramatic headshot to the left of nine, white letters and a blue checkmark.

andyblack.

“idiot.” i grumbled under my breath, a cold sensation running through my bones and up to my skull at just the thought that he may have searched me out; lurked on my profile for whatever reason, and assumed i wouldn’t notice.

i pressed the tip of my first finger into the power button, taking it all as a sign to call it for the night. i allowed the locked phone to fall face down on my stomach as i laid just slightly up in my bunk, telling myself over and over to just ignore it.

i tried everything; tossing and turning underneath my blankets, taking them off and putting them back on again, playing white noise in my headphones, all to no avail. even when i’d given up on sleep again, i couldn’t focus. my curiosity was eating at my sense like a tick. i could hardly believe myself, letting it get the best of me after years of total disregard and avoidance, but there i was, with my pupils glued back to the search bar on my instagram app.

68 posts, 2.7 million followers, 6 following. i silently read the numbers along the top of his profile, pressing down on the rightmost one to find that he was only following his band’s page, each of his bandmates, and what appeared to be a podcast oh-so-creatively titled after his own name.

his account was taken up by the same type of posts you’d expect from any other frontman of a band. onstage shots, photoshoots, music video clips, promotional posters, clips of interviews, and the occasional, personal moments. but there was an absence amongst it all that was tying a firm knot in my stomach— the complete lack of evidence of the woman who was glued to his hip for years. her name missing from his following, her face unfound in any of his photos.

as much as i tried to turn a blind eye to any new information about andy or anyone associated with him, in an industry as tight knit as the one we both belonged to, there wasn’t much avoiding the whispers about their separation. but seeing it with my own eyes, that she’d been completely erased from his public identity, saddled me with an odd feeling— something close to empathy.

god knows there was a time or two over the years that i wasn’t exactly her biggest fan, but i could only begin to imagine what it was like to be her; to have been legally bound to such a hot-headed, egomaniacal freak of nature. bless her fucking heart, really. i thought as i scrolled back up to the top of his short feed, unconsciously chewing on my lip until a metallic flavor faintly coated my tongue.

just before his latest post, the same tour poster we’d all been instructed to advertise with, the most recent collection of pictures he had uploaded were from early december— shots of what i assumed was their last performance of the calendar year behind us.

it had been more than a while since i’d looked at an updated photo of him or his band of my own accord, making the subtle differences in his appearance immediately jump out at me. his artificially black hair was grown out to a medium length, curling around his heavily tattooed neck. his upper body, covered only by the suspender straps attached to his pants, had gotten noticeably broader; arms that were once bony and thin were now toned, muscular, and littered with countless, new pieces of permanent art. each one of his long, inked fingers was decorated with a different, silver ring, while a thick, matching chain with a padlock pendant hung at its base hung over his collar.

motherfucker looks better than he has in years. of course he does. words i’d never allow past the stone walls around my mind creeped into my internal dialogue, a shiver of shame and disgust coursing through me. the sensation instantaneously sent my thumb pressing back into the power button, urging my hand to toss it face down by my side, like my body itself was rebuking the thought.

“kill me.” a murmur just short of wholly muted slipped out of my lips as i slumped further down into the small bed beneath me, bent one knee slightly up, and tossed my forearms over my eyes as they squinted closed.

“i promise, it’ll be here and over before you know it.” even in her absence, all i could hear between my ears was adrienne’s voice; those words she used to try to lift my spirits nearly half a year ago now. unfortunately, she was right, so far. those five months of waiting in dread were already behind us, and i felt that i’d hardly blinked since i was recording the base vocals for our newest single. now, it had officially been out for a week, and we’d be on stage in phoenix, playing it live for the first time, in less than twenty four hours.

come morning, what i was sure would be the longest three months of my entire goddamn career would begin. and all i could do to remedy the bottomless pit in my gut was hope to god that addie was right about the rest of her promise— that this nightmare would be over before i even knew it had started.

turning on my side to face the wall, i compulsively grabbed my phone again. the rectangular, white light flashed in my heavy eyes— 2:01am. i silenced my groan by shoving my face into my pillow, stilling my body completely in hopes that my brain would follow suit and gift me any amount of rest.

☆

“jesus. try not to look so enthusiastic, lia.”

“bite me.” i grumbled back at kurt’s wildly unsuccessful attempt to brighten my sour mood, staring forward to the path in front of me as him, damien, eric and i wandered through the long hallways of our venue for the evening.

there was hardly ten feet of space in the building that wasn’t taken up by a body, the sound of a different collection of chattering voices around every corner. the distant, but booming noise of drums being individually tested, through slow, rhythmic beats filled the auditorium and pounded in my head— like a bell tolling before my demise. we’d yet to see any of the members of the two other bands on the lineup, spending most of our walk thus far greeting longtime members of our sound and stage crew. i had no plans of putting on a face to hide my discontent with the entire operation circling around us, no matter how little anyone involved was to blame.

“leave her be.” damien scoffed with a partial grin, throwing kurt a side eye that screamed, ‘don’t poke the bear.’ “if there was ever a day she had the right to wear that stank face, it’d be today.”

”i’m not making a face.” i muttered after glancing up at him, then refixated on my phone screen as we strolled through the wide threshold that separated the rows of green rooms from the noisy backstage area, using only the pattern in the floor below to guide my footsteps.

“well, whatever you’re doing, you better perk up quick.” the sound of eric’s voice coupled with his knuckles roughly colliding with my shoulder pulled my attention away from writing a caption for another, obligatory instagram story post about the show tonight. “gotta go say ‘hi’ to your lil’ friend.” his words sent my eyes wandering around the wide open space, immediately assuming the worst. but almost as quickly as my heart rate shot to the ceiling, it began to settle down when i realized who exactly he was trying to turn my attention to; not the man i’d been preparing to avoid, but a kind, familiar face. the tall, ghostly vocalist of motionless in white was stood off to the side of the wide, populated room, leaned against the wall as he tapped his thumbs against his phone.

“oh, fuck off.” i shoved him back with a cheeky, half-smile as he chuckled at me, how instantly my skin grew flushed surely on display for my three bandmates to see.

“oh my god. i think that’s the first time she’s smiled all day.” kurt observed, joining in on eric’s teasing.

“i don’t know why i tell you guys fuckin’ anything.” an airy laugh carried my response as i shook my head, tucking the device in my hand in the pocket of my little, black spandex shorts and pulled on the long sleeves of the oversized dying wish hoodie i’d thrown on that morning. my pupils unconsciously, repeatedly flicked between my friends and the opposite end of the backstage, subtly studying the silhouette of the unaware man stood there as a film of memories began spinning behind my eyes.

it had been ages since i’d seen or spoken to chris cerulli, or any of the guys from his band. but even just seven years later now, i could replay every detail of that mid-autumn we spent in each other’s orbit behind my eyes with crystal clarity, like it had only been seven days.

☆

october of 2017— the month we were scheduled for five weeks of back to back shows as an opening act on motionless in white’s graveyard shift tour. at the time, i considered it to be one of the highest honors we’d been given in our careers thus far.

when chris and i first met, i stammered through some awkward, starstruck introduction about how much i admired him; that i’d been listening to his band since i was seventeen; when i saw them for the first time in 2010 at the gramercy theatre during my brief time in new york; how i never thought we’d meet under such circumstances. he accepted my nervous rambling gracefully, that cruelly charming smile of his planted on his pierced lips with every word i tripped over.

i could hardly believe what i was hearing when he proudly called himself ‘just as big a fan’ of letters from your ghost, telling me how impressed he was by our work; that he’d been waiting to meet me in person to ask if i was interested in coming out during their set to fill in for maria brink’s verse on their song contemptress, even if just for a few nights during the tour. something about his confidence in me made me shed my nerves, the two of us becoming more acquainted with one another with every evening i joined them onstage— sharing little jokes and conversations on the side, until i saw him as something closer to a friend than an idol.

i convinced myself that i was mature enough to push down the butterflies in my stomach when he was around; when he held eye contact with me for longer than usual, gave me an endearing, little nickname, or put on a bit of an act for the audience when we were performing our song together; touching my waist, holding my hand, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. in entirety, getting a little too close for comfort for a man with a girl waiting for him at home.

i tried not to think much of it, going along with his behavior to not appear rigid and awkward, assuring myself it was all just for the show. even if i felt like my heart was seconds from beating out of my chest every time he came so near to me, it didn’t mean anything. we worked in entertainment, and it was simply part of the job.

i’d only learn how misguided my intuition truly was on the very last night of the tour— halloween night, hardly two hours after the final performance, at what was once the electric factory in philadelphia. all of the members of every band on the line up, and a good amount of the touring crew had found themselves in a loud, busy bar in the city, most of us still dressed the costumes we went on stage in. i slipped away from my buzzed bandmates and new friends at some point to get kurt and i both another drink, only to get completely sidetracked by what i found on my way— chris, tucked in the shadows of the short, dimly lit and otherwise empty hallway that led to the bathrooms, with his head buried in his phone light.

the roughly two and a half shots of vodka in my system, evidently, did wonders for my confidence, steering me off of my path back to the bartender and down the corridor to meet him.

“hey,” i began, softly, the sound of my heels clicking against the tile as i approached becoming louder with every step i took away from the loud, main room of the bar.

“hm—? oh.” he lifted his head, tipping his chin down to find me by his side. “hey, kid.” there was a somberness to his voice, one i was a little too inebriated to regard quite yet.

“dude, i’m only, like, six years younger than you. you really don’t have to keep calling me that.” i commented, earning a subtle curl at the right side of his lips, only to quickly watch it fade as i held the skinny, black straw in my short glass to my lips and took the last sip of pink liquid that remained. “so, what’s your deal?” i boldly asked.

“what?” he chuckled, possibly at the obvious sound of my liquid courage escaping through my vocal cords, and or maybe the slight lisp that the small, glued-in vampire fangs in my mouth gave me.

“uh,” i glanced to the room full of warm bodies in costumes, and back to him— dressed in a shirt decorated with a cartoonish ribcage, and a studded leather jacket. “it’s halloween, and you’re in the corner by yourself on your phone. i was under the impression that this holiday was kinda your thing.” i gently stirred the ice in my cup around with a flick of my wrist, my slight grin falling when i looked up to find him straight faced. “are you doing alright?”

“ah— yeah. yeah, i guess.” he replied, eyes periodically bounding between me and his half-lit phone screen. i didn’t speak for a moment, purposefully letting the silence between us simmer to make my point.

“yeah.. you’re a terrible liar.” i stated, rather matter of fact, immediately knowing i was right when he wouldn’t look my way again. “c’mon. we’re friends, right? what’s wrong?” i tried to come off as sincere, while still keeping the mood light, but watched as it dimmed regardless of my efforts when he hesitantly opened his mouth again.

“my, uh,” he trailed off for a moment as he turned off his phone and tucked it in his back pocket, like he still wasn’t sure whether he wanted to give away what was weighing on him. “my girl just broke it off with me.”

my heart sank to my stomach in a matter of seconds, veins running cold enough with embarrassment to sober me up a bit. “oh,” my voice cracked, hardly leaving my throat with my first attempt to speak. “damn. i’m..” my mouth dried as i shamefully stared at my shoes, feeling my cheeks shining crimson while my chest tightened with regret. “fuck. i’m so sorry.”

“fawn,” my surname left his lips through a heavy sigh. “it’s fine.”

“no, holy shit. that was so insensitive. i’m sorry.” i refused to let him make any excuses for how i’d come in swinging, seemingly every nerve across my skin tense and alert as my head begged my body to walk away. “i’ll leave you alone—”

”dahlia.” he hardly allowed for my back to fully turn on him before he called after me, firmly and just slightly louder now, completely stopping me in my tracks. i pivoted back around, apprehensively finding his deep, brown eyes. “it’s okay. seriously. you don’t have t’go anywhere.” he assured me, his thin brows softening as he leaned his head just slightly down to look me in the face. “i’d actually kind of appreciate the company.” only then did i trust his words enough to slowly settle into the space on his left side, leaning my back against the wall with him.

in such a fragile, staid moment, my choice of attire began to feel ridiculous. i couldn’t help but put myself in his shoes, and wonder how seriously i’d be able to take a friend trying to comfort me if the whole, lower half of their face was splattered with fake blood. “so, do you, like,” my line of sight fell to the tiny skirt of the short, tight black dress i was wrapped in, gently tugging on the bottom with one hand to expose less of my thighs. “wanna talk about it, or—?” i could still hardly look his way, suddenly overly aware of my own voice, reaching up to one of the faux fangs in my mouth to see if i could even get it to budge.

“i don’t know.” i was shocked to see a hint of a smirk on his face when i straightened my neck at his answer, lost on what he could possibly have to smile about. “honestly, you’re probably, like, the last person i should tell.”

“what?” a shyness i’d thought i left behind came out as i apprehensively questioned him, nervous to find out in real time that i had done something wrong. his head shifted against the wall, just slightly to his side and down towards me, who was quietly, but impatiently waiting to hear his explanation.

“she is, uh..” he exhaled, eyes flicking around to avoid mine. “convinced that,” he paused once more, before dropping a bombshell on me. “something’s going on between me and you.” my body temperature plummeted instantly, his words briefly stripping me of my mere ability to speak.

“me?” i finally asked, as if he hadn’t been more than clear, feeling the chasm in my gut opening wider.

“yeah,” his scoff sounded almost like a chuckle before he nodded, breathed out and finally lifted his eyes from the floor tiles, our pupils locking as he reaffirmed what he’d admitted. “you.” his lips fell in a flat line as he scanned me, only to turn his gaze away once again. “she was giving me all sorts a’shit the few nights she was at the show. somethin’ about the way we act when you come out ‘n sing with us.” he explained in a dull tone as he unraveled his crossed arms, slipping his phone out of his back pocket and flicking his thumb against the screen. “i believe she said, uh—” he stopped, like he was looking for a specific text. “if she wants you so bad, she can have you.” his eyebrows raised as he stared down into his phone light.

for an insufferably long moment, it was as if i’d lost any and all prior knowledge of the english language. completely lost on what to say, or even do with my body and face, i bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep anything that would make the situation worse from slipping out. the cold, empty glass against my chest gently shook between my unsteady fingers as my blood rushed to my cheeks. i questioned myself, silently and at a thousand miles an hour, looking back in mind to find when i could’ve possibly let my guard down enough for someone to notice; to pick up on the innocent, little crush i thought i was hiding so well.

“i—” i stammered, knowing i had to at least say something; really, anything. “it’s just a show, i didn’t mean t..” finishing a sentence suddenly felt like running a marathon as i felt the weight of his stare coming down on me from above my head. “chris, i’m so sorry. you must hate my guts.” the most sincere statement i could muster fell from my stuttering mouth. “i don’t know what to say. i feel awful.” the hand holding my finished drink fell to my side, my left arm crossing over my chest to wound my free fingers tightly around my right bicep, squeezing. “is there anything i can do? i could— i could talk to her. assure her nothing’s going on. really, i..”

the terrible, guilty feeling in my bones pushed me to suggest, only to bravely glance up again to find him silently watching me, completely still, like he had no plan of responding. it was killing me, wondering what he was thinking; how his opinion of me was surely, inevitably changed for good now, even if he wouldn’t admit it. a dreadful thought i’d been struggling not to entertain crept into my mind, a deep insecurity rooted in a memory that i’d been using all of my strength to run from those days.

“look, i’m not an idiot.” i stated frankly, audibly embarrassed as i reverted to ignoring his eyes. “i know you’ve probably heard some fucked up rumors about me over the past couple years. like, shit that might make you think i’m the type of girl that would do this kind of thing on purpose. but i’m not. none of it’s true. i swear. i—i’d never,”

any remaining, coherent thought that would’ve otherwise escaped my throat in a trembling, embarrassed voice disappeared from me when i felt my neck forcibly, yet gently straighten. i was much too distracted pleading my case to him to realize how much nearer his body had drawn to mine, only coming to when my chin was already caught in the relaxed grip of his fingers. paralyzed with my back flesh against the wall, i stared up at him with eyes unblinking, while his unashamedly fixated on my slightly agape, shaking mouth.

before i even had the chance to act on the inkling of a feeling i had to put my own wants to the side; lightly push him away and utter something selfless like, we shouldn’t— he already had me helplessly between his teeth. my eyes fluttered shut, body heat and woody cologne overwhelming my senses as his triplet piercings pressed to my warm mouth. my heels stuttered across the tile floor when his opposite hand smoothed over the small of my back, effortlessly tugging me further into him.

the tattooed fingers he’d wrapped around my chin slowly slid down and along the curve of my neck, reaching back to tangle into my hair and tilt my head up further, kissing me deeper. my free hand relaxed against his chest while the other lazily held my empty drink to my side, hovering over the long arm wrapped around my frame. my breath shook in the half seconds he allowed me the privilege of oxygen, knees gently shaking from the shock; from how expertly his open lips danced with mine. i couldn’t begin to imagine how many girls he’d made feel what i was feeling in that moment— heart beating at a simply inhumane pace, brain turned to mush, completely surrendered to his touch in a matter of seconds.

when he pulled away, i stared up to him through my eyelashes, gently, quietly inhaling and exhaling as i awaited the return of my soul to my physical form. “you, uh,” his low voice spoke up, just loud enough for me to hear.

“now, if i keep my eyes closed, he looks just like you. but he’ll never stay. they never do.” the bass boosted radio-pop song playing over the speakers on the ceiling drowned out the sound of the tiny gasp that escaped my lungs when the pad of his thumb pressed against my bottom lip, delicately playing with it until the fake blood painted onto it transferred crimson to his skin.

“—you got somethin’ right there.” he flashed a small, but devious and self-satisfied grin at me, the loose strands of his dark, mid-length hair tickling my cheek.

“chris,” what remained of my shame caught back up to me when i managed to form a single, lucid thought again, softly pushing my palm against his shoulder and glancing away, as if to give him one last chance to use his head. i just couldn’t shake the voice in my mind telling me i’ve been here before; that if we went any further, it couldn’t possibly end well for either of us.

i inhaled sharply, feeling the large hand caressing my face move down to wrap around the wrist i had leaned against his jacket.

“fawn,” he parroted me, his sickeningly sweet purr coaxing my eyes back up. “we’ve been on the rocks for a while. if it hadn’t been you, it would’ve been somethin’ else. you can put that guilty, puppy-eyed look away.” he teased, his thumb rubbing up and down the side of my hand.

a sense of trust that he was telling the truth allowed my heart rate to settle; to push down the almost painful deja-vu the whole scene was giving me, and listen to the warm feeling spreading through my body instead. slowly, i tilted my chin upwards; a silent gesture to say, ‘do that again,’ still oddly shy to push myself to my tiptoes and take what i wanted myself. he saw right through me, that same, knowing smirk on his lips as both of his hands suddenly clamped to my middle, lighting up my nerves with the recognizable roughness of a man who’d just been given full permission to do as he pleased.

“this lil’ costume of yours has been fuckin’ with me all night.” he spoke quickly, growling into my mouth as it messily met with his again. his fingers dug into my hip, tight enough to shift the thin fabric clinging to my body up. “you wanna get outta here?” he muttered against the edge of my lips, earning an eager nod of my head. “yeah? think we can make it past your bodyguards?” he chuckled, his sarcastic words pulling my eyes back to the wide, open room that i’d somehow almost forgotten was beyond the narrow hallway.

in the distance, i spotted my bandmates— damien in a simple, black outfit, with the skull face-paint i’d done for him hours before now half rubbed off, shaking his head; eric in his half-unbuttoned shirt, crooked cowboy hat and fake mustache over his real one, laughing at our bassist; and a rather inebriated kurt, in the most thought out, movie accurate, patrick bateman costume i’d ever seen in person, red-faced, drunkenly ranting about something to my brother and our drummer.

a slightly smug smile raised my cheekbone before i turned back to the dark shadow of a man looming over me, playfully dragging the sharp nails on the tips of my fingers down the middle of his hard chest as i answered,

“i think i like our chances.”

☆

“that was so long ago.” i brushed eric off and pulled my eyes away from chris’ image, trying not to allow myself to fall much deeper into reminiscence of that october evening’s gritty details. “who knows if he even remembers.” i exaggerated, purely to try to get my two friends off my back about it.

“oh, you’re fuckin’ ridiculous.” kurt dramatically cut me off. “have you ever seen yourself? there’s hardly a heterosexual man in this industry that wouldn’t probably fuckin’ die to—”

“alright. fuckin’— tone it down, please.” damien protested, furrowing his thick brows in disapproval as eric failed to stifle his laughter.

“i’m just saying. thousand bucks that guy is gonna light up like a goddamn christmas tree the second he sees you.” our overly confident bassist insisted, his little turns of phrase keeping the shy smile on my lips.

i shook my head in denial, lightheartedly rolling my eyes, but adding nothing else in words. all four of our footsteps continued to walk in tandem through the small crowds throughout the backstage, the boys changing the topic of conversation while i quietly plotted; running over things i could say if i built up the nerve to grab chris’s attention as we passed him. impulse took ahold of me when there was only a matter of feet between us, forcing my body out of line from the path my bandmates were set on. surprisingly seamless, i brushed the sleeve of his jacket with my sharp, medium length acrylics.

“hey, stranger.” i spoke up just loud enough that he’d surely catch the sound, but quiet enough to still seem nonchalant. with one eye glancing back, i purposefully fell back in with my friends, watching in my peripheral vision as his head lifted gently from his phone, only to then harshly whip in my direction when he realized who was greeting him. at the sight of the warm grin spreading on his lips, i slowed, pivoting to walk backwards with my arms crossed behind my back. “don’t wait up.” i muttered to eric, who was the closest to my side, planting my feet while the three of them wandered away without me.

“dahlia. fawn.” chris crossed his long arms as he approached, his natural flair for the dramatic showing its face in his tone when he flashed that cheshire cat smile at me. “i was startin’ to think i wouldn’t live to see the day.” he quipped, his dark eyes bounding to different corners of my image as he looked down at me, while i craned my neck up just to properly look into them.

“yeah,” i drawled, glancing to the floor and playing with the rings on my fingers as my hands hovered over the small of my back. “i’m sort of a recluse these days.”

“no kidding.” he replied. “almost didn’t recognize you with that hair.”

“what? you don’t like it?” i grinned, pushing the nearly thirty inches of white, platinum blonde collected neatly in my ponytail to lay over my left shoulder.

“i didn’t say that.” his pupils quickly scanned my outline up and down once more as he played along with me, biting the inside of his cheek to only slightly suppress the smug expression showing on his lips. “how are you doing, really?” a genuine sound softened his tone. “you and the guys?”

“good. things are..” my answer began enthusiastically, only to be abruptly overwhelmed by a wave of feeling crashing overtop of my head the longer i looked into the sincerity coloring the sharp features of his face. “good.” a little sigh slipped through my lips as i abandoned the eye contact we were holding, my shoulders dropping as a familiar, guilty emotion weighed on my body; a thought that hadn’t left me alone since i’d first found out motionless would be joining us on this ridiculous, publicity stunt of a tour.

i always seemed to find myself in the same conversation when it came to industry friends i’d had before our time away; explaining how the same, social butterfly they once knew had turned into the person i was now, hardly showing my face unless i had to; assuring the people i cared for that it had nothing to do with them, and everything to do with me. but i felt a particular responsibility to apologize to the man standing in front of me— to say sorry for letting him in so close, promising that we’d see each other again like he said he wanted, only for me to vanish from the sheets we’d shared before the sun had risen the next morning.

i liked him far too much, was what i told myself after that midnight i spent underneath of him, making a mess of his hotel room, not bothering to redress when we found ourselves talking for hours, immersed in one another like we’d known each other for years. he’d be much better off never hearing me again than letting whatever had sparked between us grow; learning anything more about me than what i’d allowed him to see that night, i’d thought. so i left early that morning, and i never called.

“look, chris,” that remorseful sentiment filling me to the brim began to pull words from my mouth as i awkwardly studied the laces on my shoes. “i know it’s, um— been a while. but ever since i found out we were doing all of this, i wanted to make a point to tell you that i’m—”

“dahlia,” he delicately stopped me before i’d hardly even begun. hesitant, but willing to listen, i guided my attention right back up to him. “i think i know what you’re gonna say, and,” he lightly shook his head. “don’t sweat it. okay? water under the bridge.” a clean breath of air flowed through my lungs at the sound of his forgiveness. i’d almost began to tell him how i appreciated both his graciousness and eerie ability to read my mind, when he went on before i could quite think of what to say. “besides, you are kinda stuck with me for a few months. so,” his sly, but subtle smirk easily heightened my heart rate, before i even knew how he would shamelessly finish his thought. “nowhere to run for a little while.”

i turned my suddenly warm head away for a beat, a small, locked lip smile on my lips as i gave up on trying to hide the red illuminating my cheeks. “y’know, the average girl would probably think that was really creepy.” i bantered as i pivoted my neck to face him, crinkling my brows as if i was even the slightest bit upset; as if my pink face and the grin i was fighting weren’t completely giving me away.

he chuckled, biting his tongue and giving me one, last, good look from head to toe. “it’s a good thing you’re far from average, fawn.” his eyes forced themselves away from their deadlock on mine, slowly and reluctantly, like it caused him a dull pain to do so. “i think my guys are waiting on me for soundcheck, but,” he glanced to the auditorium beyond the wide room around us, leisurely picking up his feet, taking barely two steps around me like he was in no rush to get away. “you and i are gonna talk more later, okay?” his dark, left brow cocked upwards as he pointed a finger at me.

“oh,” a facetious, little sigh opened my softly smiling lips. “maybe if i have time.” i teased, tilting my head just slightly to the side.

”hm.” his hum was more like a purr, threatening the stability of my knees as his eyes glazed over with a heaviness i’d seen before. “i have a feeling i’ll catch you, blondie.” with a one-sided smirk proudly displayed on his face, he passed by my right and planted a hand on my shoulder, only finally pulling his gaze from me when he let go and walked away.

blondie. his voice echoed in my head as i remained distracted by the sight of his outline slowly getting smaller, my guard completely down.

“here’s an idea,” i nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of my brother’s voice, whipping to the side to find him suddenly a matter of inches away from me. “why don’t you two just get on the floor and bone in front of everyone?”

“jesus christ, man.” i breathed out, my tense shoulders slowly lowering back down as i held my palm flat to my chest, my heartbeat fighting to recover from skyrocketing.

“no, really. ‘cause i think that would be less graphic than what i just watched.” he commented with a subtle, disgusted sneer lifting the corner of his upper lip.

“are you fifteen years old? who the fuck says bone?” i argued back, shaking off the unsettling mixture of emotions running through me by starting to walk again, leaving damien behind to go on a search for the other half of our band.

“i turned my back for three seconds and you were gone.” he ignored my words, easily catching up to my side with a few, quick steps.

“and you didn’t send out an amber alert?” i asked, sarcastically, pulling my phone back out for just long enough to press the little, white circle with the right pointing arrow in the bottom corner of the instagram story i was editing before i’d gotten distracted. “oh, god.” when my head lifted back up to the room around us, my eyes landed on a scene that instantly pulled a groan from my vocal cords. my drummer and bassist were mixed in with a small crowd of men dressed in dark clothes; men whose faces i unfortunately recognized as three out of four of the instrumentalists for black veil brides. they seemed to already be neck deep in conversation— smiling, even laughing. “i guess we’re just fraternizing with the enemy, now.” i grumbled, pushing my phone back into my pocket and crossing my arms tight.

“the enemy—?” damien scoffed, a white-toothed smile briefly on his usually somber face. “you need t’fuckin’ relax.” he partly laughed, quieting down when i didn’t respond and allowed my footsteps to drag. “look,” his voice dropped to a tone a bit more understanding. “i’m not exactly excited about this shit either.” i knew at least that much was true; that if there was anyone in the building with nearly as much of a bone to pick with he who shall not be named, it was my brother. “and i don’t think there’s any expectation of us making any new friends, but we should probably at least walk over and say hello. be cordial, or something.” my face twisted in annoyance as i slowly realized i didn’t have anything to argue against his tragically reasonable opinion. “besides, i don’t even seem him anywhere. probably hiding in his fuckin’ dressing room—”

“ugh— fuck. fine.” i caved, following just slightly behind damien’s lead as we naturally strolled towards the circle that our bandmates and the three-fifths of black veil brides had created, until we grew close enough that i could hear soft laughter.

“oh, there you are.” eric warmly announced me and damien’s presence before either of us could say anything ourselves, four more pairs of eyes turning to face us in unison. “we were just talking about you.” just the thought of how many different meanings such a simple sentence could hold heightened my anxiety, but i forced my expression to remain neutral.

“just thought we’d introduce ourselves.” my brother held out his palm to the person stood closest to him— a rail thin man with long, dark, pin-straight hair decorated with a bandana— who immediately took the friendly offer, slapping his hand against damien’s and roughly shaking it, like it wasn’t nearly the first time they’d met.

“you guys are, like, on top of the fuckin’ world right now. we know who you are.” his laugh was full and unapologetic, complimenting his wide, toothy smile. “friends call me cc. i play drums for black veil. this is jake, he’s on guitar,” he motioned his head to his friends on his right— two tattooed men with short, black hairstyles, one of them a bit taller than the other with a single, hoop piercing in his bottom lip. “and that’s our bassist, lonny. but he’ll pretty much answer to anything.”

the man he’d pointed towards, lonny, grinned somewhat shyly, quietly taking the little dig from his bandmate with a gentle shake of his head. “hi. huge fan.” he extended his arm specifically towards me, an almost shocking amount of sincerity in his energy. i smiled, lifting my hand to lay it in his, feeling particularly gracious towards him over the others, but still not completely convinced.

“we were just talking about that, uh— that interview you guys did at warped that fuckin’ blew up the internet, and,” jake spoke up with a chuckle, only for his voice to be overtaken by what i considered a completely unnecessary apology from damien.

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. we—” he started to interject, calm in volume but dead serious in intent.

“nah, man.” cc continued the cycle, beaming as he held his hands up with his palms forward, as if to tell him to stop. “we look back on it fondly. the shit these motherfuckers said about our old bassist,” his grin held firmly across his lips while he pointed to eric and kurt, reminding me of a part of that infamous video i’d completely forgotten; when i’d finished amusedly rambling on about the gripes i had with their band, and kurt piggybacked off of me to share his opinions on their bassist at the time, who i couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. “not only fuckin’ priceless, but on the nose.”

i could picture it so easily— kurt, peacefully a little under the influence behind the disguise of a simple pair of sunglasses, debating with eric on camera about whether black veil brides’ bassist was actually playing a single note of the bass parts in their set; making fun of the way he jumped around the stage and the headset microphone he wore just for the sake of singing directly over their lead vocalist, all while i laughed, and damien muttered something about the cease and desist we’d surely be receiving soon after.

“i told you assholes i was right.” our bass player pointed at the three of us as he spoke with the optimistic confidence of a man who’d finally been vindicated, laughing along with the very men that we’d spent the rest of that god forsaken interview passively trashing. they were such good sports about it all, i actually almost started to feel bad. almost.

“headset mic. dude was so fuckin’ mad when that video came out. we still call him that all the time.” cc chuckled the nickname that kurt had given their ex-member, which in hindsight, wasn’t exactly creative. “but yeah, seriously. don’t worry about it. it was so long ago. we’ve all done our fair share of shit-talking. and unlike our frontman, the rest of us have a sense of humor.”

i bit my tongue to stifle the smirk fighting for its rightful place on my quiet mouth at the sound of the jab he’d made at his own friend, feeling all of my bandmates’ eyes on me in my outer vision. i covered the bottom half of my face with my sleeve just to ensure it was hidden, before it easily fell when jake lightheartedly came to their vocalist’s defense.

”oh, leave ‘em alone.” he grinned despite the words he spoke, as if he knew cc’s harmless insult wasn’t entirely wrong. “andy’s a good dude, really.” my body froze as jake’s eyes flicked between me and damien, something about finally hearing his name spoken by another mouth making reality come fully into focus. “he was just shit on so much as a kid, he has this, like,” he hesitated. “crazy fragile ego. makes him come off a certain way sometimes. if you knew him back then, you’d understand.”

i’d thought i’d have at least until i’d seen the man with my own eyes before i’d have to feel that all-encompassing, white, hot feeling of anger take over my being; the same one i’d felt when i’d found out all of those months ago that eventually i’d be standing where i was now. but no— he hadn’t even graced me with his almighty presence yet, and i could already feel my hands twitching, my skin growing red from my ankles to my neck. i should’ve known better than to think that maybe, just maybe, he was man enough to at least admit to the people he was closest to that we weren’t complete strangers. how i could ever expect that, even now at thirty-three goddamn years old, he’d be mature enough to utter a word that might dampen anyone’s view of him, was beyond me. i could feel damien’s pupils digging into the side of my skull, waiting for my next move; something i never had to turn my eyes to recognize.

“right.” i replied harshly, glancing around to find something, literally anything that would get me out of the conversation before anyone went further with the subject, and i said something i’d end up regretting. motionless in white wasn’t nearly done with their soundcheck, and we wouldn’t have to take their place for a good amount of time yet, but i needed an excuse. “well, uh. we should probably,”

“oh. speak of the devil.” lonny’s bright timbre alerted me. regretfully, i turned my head in the same direction that the men around me did, despite how i knew for certain what i’d discover in the open doorway when i laid my eyes on it.

what i didn’t expect, was the pretty, young girl with a crew lanyard around her neck, an ipad wrapped in her arms, and calico cat-like streaks of orange, black and blonde in her hair that stepped over the threshold first— a looming, storm cloud of a man following behind her and dimming the light she naturally gave off. his mere existence seemed to instantly make the room’s temperature plummet, but my body itself a hundred degrees hotter.

he tilted his head down to speak words to her that i couldn’t make out from the distance between us. time slowed as i watched them, squeezing my own fist beneath the long sleeve of my hoodie, roughly rubbing the tip of my thumb over the knuckle of my first finger. my heart pounded against my chest like an animal fighting to claw its way out of a steel cage, but not for the reason i’d thought it would.

for months, i was sure this first glimpse of him in years would send my nervous system into fight or flight; that my first thought would be to just walk away without bothering to give an explanation to anyone around, and avoid the possibility of having to speak a single word to him.

but nothing adjacent to fear, dread or even indifference weighed on my conscience. i was completely devoid of any feeling not purely rooted in anger, frozen in place by my contempt. one, single look at his face, and i was reminded of just how much i despised every goddamn molecule that held him together, even more than i’d recalled before. his arrogant demeanor. the way he walked, spoke. the apathetic expression present even in his resting face. every ridiculous, patchwork tattoo on his neck, arms and hands. his uninviting, inhumanly blue eyes. his vampiric skin. his perfect fucking hair, void black without a hint of root growth in sight. every last detail burned me alive.

i didn’t have it in myself to be graceful; to turn my cheek and appear detached if he even bothered to look my way. deep down, i knew i wanted him to see my stone cold expression and be reminded that this whole charade being built around us was nothing but that— a fucking facade. that despite the act i was here to put on in front of our audiences, as soon as i walked off stage, or the camera turned off, i’d be the same as before. there was no chance of absolution. forgiveness was weakness, and i’d be damned before i’d put my tail between my legs for someone like him.

“well. uh,” eric spoke up, momentarily pulling me out of my loathing induced daze. “i think we’re gonna go see if we can catch up with some of our techs. get everything prepped for soundcheck after motionless wraps up. but i’m sure we’ll all run into each other again. dame, lia?” he called for me and damien to follow after the few steps kurt and him had already taken, what i was sure was an attempt to give me a way out of the situation before things got any uglier. but i didn’t move an inch; not even through a twitch of my lips.

“oh, shit. hold up. hold up just one more second.” cc implored, his voice raising as if he’d had a realization upon looking to the duo that had just entered the room; an epiphany that he just needed share with the four of us. “i gotta introduce you to your biggest fan.” i bit down hard on my tongue when his eyes overtly darted towards me, walking a few steps closer to my side to warm the ball of my shoulder with his hand.

there was a split second in time that i was convinced he was proudly being a jackass, saying such a thing and then waving his free arm in the air at the only person in the world that i was sure would step on my fingers if i was holding onto the edge of a cliff for dear life. my brows furrowed as i almost thought to push him away and tell him exactly what i thought of him, before he shouted a name i didn’t recognize.

“shev! over here!” instantly, the kind-faced girl and the ghoul stood by her side called their attention to the booming sound of his yell— equal in motion, but their expressions like the night and the day. her pale hand shot over her mouth in what appeared like excitement, before she started on a speedwalk over towards the crowd we’d all formed, her multi-colored ponytail swinging.

a grim, horribly self-pitying look overtook the face of the man she’d left behind as he gazed out to the huddle of bodies we’d all formed. i didn’t once waver in the death glare i was shooting at him, watching with a purpose as his eyes drifted until they finally locked with mine. hardly a full second passed before he swiftly hung his head down, as if he could cave into himself and hide with such a giant, physical form. i temporarily abandoned any regard for him as the woman cc had invited over began to slow down in front of us, lest she think that my obvious aggravation was at all for her.

“hi,” she chirped when she came to a stop, crossing one arm across her slim body and waving with the other. “i’m shevy. i, uh— i do a lot of back of house shit for black veil. i love you guys.” she speedily introduced herself. her attitude was refreshing enough to bring a real smile back to my lips in such an otherwise awful environment. “the new ep is so fucking sick. and you are somehow even more gorgeous in person.” she reached into the space between the two of us, such a genuine, unfiltered compliment making the blood rush back to my face before i could even say thank you to the first one she threw.

“oh, says you.” i replied, instinctively. it was simply, completely against my moral code to be standoffish to another woman right out of the gate; even if she did happen to work for satan himself. “your hair is so cute.”

“thank you!” she reached for the multicolored bangs that laid neatly across her forehead, beaming enough to make her hazel eyes squint and her heavily pierced nose scrunch.

“shev, have you seen jinxx around?” jake pulled her attention away from me for a moment, naming who i assumed was that last, missing piece of their band. “kinda trying to get everyone introduced.”

“i think he’s on the phone with alice in the green room. but, uh— andy’s right over there,” lowly, she pointed her first finger towards the lone, brooding man who was now so conveniently buried in his cell phone. “doing a whole lot of nothing.” she lightly giggled, before her wide eyes bounced between me and my suddenly alert bandmates. “have you guys met him yet?”

synchronously, damien, kurt and eric glanced my way once more, as if they were looking to me for orders, waiting to see how i’d react so they would know how to follow suit. “uh,” an ironic sort of laugh strummed my vocal cords without my permission.

“oh, yeah. we better get you two troublemakers to shake hands, huh?” cc replied, gently nudging my bicep with his knuckles, inspiring smiles and small laughs from his friends as he poked fun at the unspoken reason we were all gathered here to begin with— burying the hatchet on drama and rumors they obviously all thought were based off of nothing. “yo, andy!” i stilled, staring straight ahead as he departed a few steps from my side, his volume much too obvious for even his falsely nonchalant, darkly adorned bandmate to ignore.

the singer’s head lifted from the phone in his disproportionately large hand, turning his reptile eyes towards the source of the sound of his name. but otherwise, he didn’t move an inch.

“you too. c’mere.” cc chuckled, blissfully unaware of why his bandmate was awkwardly frozen in place.

“y’know, we should probably start getting ready to—” damien began, thinking he was coming to my rescue.

“we have some time.” i stated, overpowering his voice with my own, in case anyone had overheard how he’d tried to speak for the four of us.

“lia,” his hushed call of my name held a clear double meaning— both a final offer of a chance to get out of the situation before it began, and a warning to not make a scene— but i didn’t pay him any mind.

“can it wait? i’m kind of in the middle of something.” he came up with a vague excuse when cc began to approach him. hearing the unmistakable, low tone of his voice touch the air from just a few steps away for the first time in years only fed the fire smoldering within me. his baby blues avoided my image, as if he feared he would turn to stone if he looked my way.

“c’mon, it’ll only take a second. don’t be shy.” the enthusiastic drummer pushed him forward with a hand on his back, jokingly forcing him to take steps towards the imperfect circle made up by both of our bands.

when both of them stopped at the perimeter of the small crowd, he couldn’t have landed in a more unfortunate spot— his feet perfectly parallel to mine, with only the few paces of empty space between our bodies separating us. even then, he avoided as much as a glance in my direction, his jaw visibly tightening as i held my head high, shooting daggers he could surely see in his side vision straight into him.

“friends, meet our fearless leader.” the low clamor of many crew members’ voices and footsteps filled the silence caused by my bandmates and i as cc confidently began to introduce us, speeding through our first names. “andy, this is kurt, eric,” i peeked over towards kurt and eric to find their firm, unmoving expressions when andy reluctantly straightened his neck to meet their gaze, only to press his lips to a straight line and tuck his head back down at the sight of them. “damien,” he continued, pointing my brother’s way. damien was stood pin-straight with his broad shoulders high, his arms crossed, and his blue-green eyes boring into andy— who only cravenly nodded to acknowledge him. “and dahlia.”

after cc warmly shared my name and extended his relaxed hand towards me, the heavy weight of pure silence from myself, him, and my three bandmates pressed down on us all until every, last smile vanished. i disregarded the increasingly confused, awkward looks that had began to warp the features of the members of his team the longer no one answered. they each watched attentively for any one of us to move. i held tightly to the unamused, bitter visage i was wearing, refusing to be the first to speak, when he could hardly give me the respect of looking me in my face.

god knows what i was expecting to come out of his mouth, after he finally allowed our pupils to meet. i knew him better than to anticipate anything akin to an admittance of guilt; even a weak one that left out details as to not completely incriminate him. before he opened his lips, a simple, “yeah, we’ve met before,” spoken through a nasty scowl, before he walked away without another word, was the worst case scenario. but it would only take a moment for reality to prove me wrong.

“it’s, um,” an uncomfortable tone graced his tongue as his cold eyes flicked around, like he was physically incapable of keeping them in line with me for more than a few seconds. his adam’s apple shifted up and down, presumably swallowing to try to remedy a dry, nervous throat, while restlessly adjusting the long arms that sat tucked against his chest. “it’s nice to meet you.” he finally spit something out, fleetingly glancing to my drummer and bassist. but the last, two syllables he spoke only rolled off his tongue when he’d turned fully back to face me— meet you.

my jaw fell ever so slightly open, eyes widening before they snapped to my side, where i found damien looking to me in his peripheral, with a near identical speed. synchronized, we called our attention back to the same place— the coward of a grown man who was once the quiet, only child living next door to us, that we’d first met almost sixteen years ago now. before i could think of anything venomous enough to say to embarrass him in front of his friends, kurt easily picked up the slack, suddenly, but briefly laughing out loud.

“jesus christ. i can’t watch this.” he uttered, shaking his head and pivoting the heels of his black vans against the floor, ushering eric away along with him. “we’re gonna go— fuckin’— get our in-ears from amber, or something.” he looked behind his shoulder, outstretching his hand towards damien and i.

“yeah, i’m gonna go ahead ‘n join you.” damien placed a comforting hand in the middle of my upper back before he picked up his feet to follow after kurt and eric. “good to see you too, dickhead.” he walked purposefully right through andy, pushing past hard enough to shoulder-check him as he went by, the impact of his shove hitting as he uttered that last word. andy’s eyes squinted loosely shut as their bodies collided, his mouth flattening upon taking the blow.

“oh,” i heard shevy shyly mutter, lifting her hand to her lips and watching damien’s back as he trailed after our friends.

“uh—” jake awkwardly laughed, turning back to us after his head had followed the same route as shevy’s. “i’m lost. what are we missing, here?” his face dropped back into solemness as he spoke for his three colleagues and their similarly concerned auras. his focus bounced back and forth between andy and i, like he’d take an answer from whoever had the nerve to speak up first.

“yeah, biersack. what are they missing?” a deliberately insincere, shamelessly bitchy inflection colored my speech as i crossed my arms, leering up at him in wait.

his thin, ivory skin became gradually tinted red from the blood rushing to its surface the longer he stood in my presence, desperately trying to mask his resentment. his head gently shook from side to side as he faced just slightly away, cracking his sharp jaw and gritting his teeth behind his closed mouth.

he turned back down to me with an ugly glower, suddenly not so timid to stare right into my stone face, as if there was no longer anyone around us watching. still, i held my ground like we were perfectly equal in size, unshaken when his lips split and released words i’m sure were meant to daunt me in his naturally dark pitch—

“are we really gonna do this right fucking now? in front of everyone?”

#fic: re stitch these wounds #andy biersack #black veil brides #bvb #andy biersack fanfic #andy biersack x ofc