Oneshots for Every Girl [Vol. 2]

Behind the Mask ~Andy Biersack~

He sighed, unsure as how to win her back and reclaim her love. [Name] meant more to Andy than to life itself, but he had gotten into the habit of slipping on a mask and hide behind a false face. Over the years of constant heartbreak, the mask had simply become part of who he was and he truthfully didn't realise it when he slipped back into the role. The simple self defense mechanism was an unconscious side of him, but it had never failed him before so he thought nothing of it.

At least, not until it pushed [Name] away and out of his life.

Unlike the others, she knew it was a deceit. That he was hiding behind some invisible veil and didn't show his own true visage. [Name] had spent five years as a friend and ten more as a girlfriend trying to ease him out of the clay mould into which that Andy had so effortlessly incased himself. But, he had been afraid. He refused to budge, under the illusion that the mask was beneficial and important. Andy Biersack thought that it had been infallible and impermeable.

Lifting the whiskey bottle to his parched lips, Andy shook his head and chuckled with no trace of humour. No trace of emotion, it was merely a simple sound that his body made on its own accord.

Hindsight's a bitch, uh?

He frowned, clicking his tongue in irritation. Moping about like a brood wasn't about to have you swooning into his lanky arms, nor would the heavy cloud of whiskey on his person. Dear gods on Olympus, he smelt as though he had bathed in nothing but Fireball Whiskey for all his life. Swatting away a fly, the musician drunkenly got to his weary knees and let his body go on autopilot.

He could correct his course if it led him to yet another bar, which it often did.

However, this was not the case tonyght. Instead his feet carried him to a lush meadow that he had never seen before in his waking or dreaming moments. What surprised him most profoundly was the moonlight maiden who sat in the tall grass, her ivory nyghtgown billowing out around her slender [skin tone] legs as she danced against the yellow lilies. To him, [Name] appeared to be a nature goddess.

Demeter, right? Or in Roman, Terra.

Her elegant dance faded to stillness as her glowing [eye colour] orbs landed on the pitiful sight that was him. Her radiant smile died, the moon hiding behind black clouds, as she took in his form. Andy's knuckles were busted, wrapped in cloth coated with blood and dirt, and his once formal suit was no reduced to a pile of rags that struggled to cling to his ever so skeletal form.

"You look unwell," her divine voice reached his starving ears.

"Please take me back, [Name]! Please!" he fell to his knees, tears giving life to his aqua blue eyes.

"Only if you let me behind the mask," she slowly, gracefully, glided to where he knelt.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he sighed in content when she slid into his empty embrace.

At last, yin and yang were whole again.