Not Afriad to Die For You **(Black Veil Brides)**

Chapter 1: Past, Presents, and Future

JORDAN'S POV:

"Jordan don't." Andy begged, his brows furrowed in concern.

"You don't realize how much they hurt! My mom, the kids at school!" I cry, staring down at the blade in my hands. "I don't want to live in this constant abuse!"

He bites his lip and slouches down on the bathroom floor next to me. "Someday, I'm going to have a band." He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I lean against him. "I'm gonna save lives, I'm gonna be a role model, a person for people to look up to when they feel lost and alone."

I sigh, my tears slowly draining away. "What are you going to call it?"

At twelve years old, we thought we were just messing around. That Andy Biersack, my best friend since the day we were born, would ever be famous. At that time we didn't know how wrong we were.... And what he said next would be echo constantly in my head forever.

"Black Veil Brides."

I gripped my razor in my hand and touched it to my wrist.

"No!" Andy shrieked, his hand reaching for the blade.

"Andy!" I stop him and pull back. "Wait for a second." He watched with worry as I carve 'BVB' into my left wrist. Just deep enough to leave a scar. I didn't know this was the start of a terrible habit.... And neither of us knew what the future held for us. "I'll be the first member of your BVB Army." I take the bloody blade into his hand. He bites down on his lip as he carves the same thing into his own wrist.

"BVB Army." He says with a pain filled smile, tears in his eyes. I intertwine my fingers with his, pressing our bloody wrists together.

"Forever."

***

(7 Years Later)

"Jordan Taylor Skylar Jones!!" Willow, my roommate yells. "He was your best friend! It was seven fucking years ago! You can't seriously still be holding a grudge!"

I pulled my blankets up over my head. "Key word, Willow Olivia Sherman, 'was'. He 'was' my best friend. He abandoned me when I needed him the most. He said we were in it together, that he wasn't leaving my side, and he just up and left." I curl up into a little ball as she rips the blankets away from my shivering body.

"Get fucking dressed, you're coming to the goddamn concert."

I growl and roll until I fall off the bed. I crawl to my dresser and grab a Bring Me the Horizon tee shirt, then a pair of black torn up jeans, a thin leather jacket, and my black high-tops. I then sulk into the bathroom, locking myself in. I stripped out of my black sweats and stared at myself in the mirror. My arms and legs covered in cuts, I couldn't bear myself. So I turned away. I could still see the blurry image of my red tipped black hair and face in the glass of the shower. I hold in tears, tugging on all my other clothes, tying my shoes and walking out.

"Are you wearing boxers?" Wil asks, pointing out the slight bump under my pants. I fix it quickly and look at her.

"Yeah, have a problem with that?" I move to the hamper, tossing my dirty clothes in.

"Why don't you wear more girly stuff?"

I hold up a pair of her pink lace panties. "Because I hate frills." I flick them at her and she squeals before glaring at me.

I look at myself in the mirror over our dresser, all scars covered up I look fine. My hair curtains around my ribs, I tousle my electric red bands quickly. My skin is pale in contrast to anyone else's. My snakebites are black, I have silver rings in my lip and nose. I have black studs all up my entire right ear, my left ear has two normal piercings. I saved the tattoos for whenever my scars healed up.... Which might not be ever....