Sorrowed Souls [Andy Biersack x Reader]

Dedication

The amphitheater was reluctant at first, letting a band play at the same night as scheduling. But with a word of promise from Andy, with a word of valuer to his band, within thirteen hours Black Veil Brides was set up and about to go on.

You and your (excited) bestie stood off on the side of the stage, one of you recording and the other... tucked inwards.

Those damned voices kept tap, tap, tapping at your mind.

So what's a girl to do without her makeup?

Still so ugly.

Preys on lame-ass stalker, dipshit "fans".

Andy... he'll leave. Just wait.

You tried to wipe the tears away, sure your hand would draw away with the smudged black of messed up eyeliner.

But it didn't, and your mask remained in tact for another song.

——

"Hey, everyone." Andy's voice boomed over the speakers, rippling through the massive crowd and reaching every ear, every mind there.

"We know it's short notice," he continued on, "but we wanna thank you for coming out on this beautiful California evening. I mean, really, look at the weather here."

After the cheers, the applause, and the whistles had died down, that voice you could spend forever listening to kept speaking, a solemness inside his words this time.

"Someone near and dear to me recently got out of a pretty dark place. They're..." And for a moment, for a single blip of time, Andy bowed a little, head hanging down and eyes closing.

You knew him well enough--he was holding back tears.

Your heart tore, shredding itself as you took a step forward. You couldn't... You could do nothing; not now, anyway.

So you stayed standing on the sidelines, as your heart kicked up a notch, revived by the sounds of an acoustic guitar.

We booked our flight those years ago.

I said "I love you," as I left you

Regrets still haunt my hollow head

But I promise I will see you again, again.

You thought of white walls that held you in a permanent state of needing, a primitive succumbing.

You... didn't want to be this burden.

Your hands acted on their own. One slipped from your bestie's embrace, the other bringing your phone to life.

Carefully, with both thumbs typing cautiously, you typed his name.

And then, carefully, you typed out a last message.

You win.