#andy c.

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Quick Andy to get back into the swing of things.

The sketch and base color, I was debating on leaving it at this, but I decided to try to finish it!

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Andy found a little friend!

Normally, sketches go next to the drawing, but since it's more detailed, I wanted it down here!

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Decided to color this sketch of Andy!! :"D

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Andy ♡ || tried a sorta different approach to coloring this one!!

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iii. the harm

"What was it you asked?" Clay took a long sip of his beer, a small grin appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Andy swallowed hard, trying to find better words. Maybe he shouldn't have asked Clay, but he's heard some stories, and he is the closest to Andy's age. He has to be more helpful than the other guys. "H-how," he paused for another moment. "How do you know if a girl likes you?"

That's exactly what the Corporal thought Andy was asking. Clay didn't mind it, it's a nice break up from everything else going on.

"A girl back home?"

Andy nodded along.

"What's her name?"

"Lucía, Lucía Garcia." With only the mention of her name, Andy's faced grew warm and a soft smile appear along with it. "I've known her since the 5th grade."

Clay nodded along, "So you've talked before, right?"

"Of course. We've nearly always have been in the same class. And we've worked together too. She, uh, wrote to me. I just can't stop thinkin' about it, I don't know what to say back."

Clay can't believe he even has to explain this to Andy. It's clear she at least cares, enough to reach out to his mama to find a way to write to him. But, he knows what it's like having a crush. Man, it's crazy how your brain can just stop working.

Andy continued to ramble strings of words, some making sense, others not. Clay finally brought it to a close, he set his hand on Andy's shoulder.

"Chavez, just write her back. Tell her how you are, ask her how she is. Tell her about anythin' you want. See where it goes. There ain't no harm in just talkin', right?"

Andy looked down for a few moments, nodding along. "Plus, I can't really see her reaction if I do anything embarrassing, huh?"

"There's one way of lookin' at it." Clay chuckled.

Andy thanked him for his help, and returned to his own tent. He laid in his cot, not worrying about taking anything off at the moment. He pulled out his letter and began to reread every word that Lucía had sent.

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xxv. i'm still here

Andy took a sip from his canteen, feeling the heat of the day beat down on him; hitting his fatigues and shining bright over head on his helmet. He wiped the sweat off his brow and stared at the grass and hills around him. Mixture of greens and dried up yellow covered the area. It's been like that for nearly the entire time Andy's been here. There wasn't much noise around them today, it seemed like it was a quiet day. People could take a moment and gather themselves. He screwed shut his water, picking up his camera, making sure everything was still aligned. Thankfully, it wasn't too much to carry. He's gotten use to the weight of the sturdy camera and how to pack his tripod efficiently. He was beginning to start filming some of the guys around after he spoke to them for a moment or two. But he was interrupted by hearing his name called, he rushed over, and a smile instantly slipped on his face, he saw that bag. That bag that could make the worst moments utter joy. That was the mail. He knew he had to have gotten something.

The other soldier slipped him his two letters he had received. This easily was the highlight of his week. He knew one would be from his mom and the other was from...he carefully read the words, it was Yolanda! He knew he was in for a treat. Andy, eager, tore into his letter from his mom, taking a seat underneath a tree. He slowly began to take in every word from her. Oh how he loved her hand writing. How he felt he could smell hints of home on the page. Things were going well over there, they had a barbecue recently, and said everyone had a good time. She mentioned work was even going a little easier lately, which Andy was glad to hear. He knows how hard his mom worked. She asked about him of course, wanting to hear he's doing alright, that he's safe. She wanted to know just about anything Andy would be willing to share. This is what she normally asks, yet for some reason this really tore at him.

He brought his knees up to himself so he could hug them. He rested his chin on his knees and stared off at the camp ahead of him. He really has been here enough to know what would be in his mom's letters. There is a pattern. How has he been here this long that there is able to be a common thing amongst all her letters? He tried thinking of what to say. What would a mom want to hear? He couldn't think of an answer she'd like. I'm still here. Was all he could come up with. He doesn't know how she'd feel about that answer. It'd have to be a plus, he was still alive and writing. That is a good thing. But god— did it feel like hell being here. He didn't want to be here, he doesn't agree with any of soliders like him being here. Why is he still here? Why are any of them still? He tried to come up with a better way to answer her letter, yet that felt like the only appropriate response.

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xiii. cut your hair

Andy stared blankly at the ground, he felt scared. Everything is really beginning to set in. He hears the hums and zips of the clippers in the stand-in barbers' hands. Andy couldn't make eye contact with any of the boys also there, so he didn't. He watched hair drop on the ground, a pile becoming much larger with every pause. They didn't bother cleaning it up between each boy, they must do that last.

Andy picked up his hand, and placed it on the top of his head. He didn't have a lot of hair, but it at least hung. It was simple, and neat. He couldn't imagine ever not having it. He ran his fingers through his hair for the last time for who knows how long.

It was eerily quiet, not a single person in that room uttered a word, only when it was for the next group to step up, but even then, it was only one booming voice.

"NEXT." Shouted the Sargent.

This was Andy's round. He placed his hands on the arm of the chair, stabilizing himself. He didn't even get to see himself one last time in the chair. They had the boys turned away from the mirror. The barber didn't cover up his shirt with anything, he just had to wait for the sound of the clippers. The barber firmly held Andy's face with his hand as the set of clippers was against the very top of his head, quickly and efficiently began hacking away at his hair. Andy watched some of his own hair fall. He didn't move his eyes, he didn't move his face. He just stared. A stare that went far passed the hair, far passed the wood floor, far passed anything in this realm. He didn't even feel like he was present. The vibrations of the clippers were sharp and Andy will never forget that feeling. This wasn't just a haircut, that isn't the problem. He tried to not panic but this was the end of Andy Chavez as he knew it. Though Andy didn't quite know what that meant at the moment.

Boot camp. Then a year. Andy can do this. Andy can and Andy will make it home. He just has to.

"NEXT."

Andy was finished already? He stood up from the chair slowly, glancing back at the mirror. He fiddled with his glasses, and watched himself until he made his way back to the line of the other finished boys. He stood at attention. He was surprised at his lack of reaction in the mirror. He just felt numb. This is his reality now.

Andy looked at the sargent who looked like he was made for this place. Andy doesn't want to become that man, he doesn't want to ever do something to hurt another. This is not Andy.

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Here's a little run down of Andy! Most the points said on the drawing are elaborated in my little lists abt him