The Rhythm Of Our Broken Hearts

Chapter One: Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter One: Smoke and Mirrors

The twenty-year old's icy blue eyes drifted around the room. The walls were lined with various posters of previous shows, some of the bands he recognized, and others he didn't, probably just casualties of the industry. You have your fifteen minutes, one good album if you're lucky, a few decent tours, and then you're gone in a flash. Replaced by another carbon copy of the next 'big thing', your fans having moved on, leaving you with nothing but memories of a 'has been' rockstar. That was always a fear of his, that the band's quick rise to fame would be met with an equally fast fall.

The raven-haired singer had given everything for this band, more than most people would ever know. He didn't have a fallback plan, no safety net to catch him when the world stopped caring and things crashed around him. Not even bothering to finish high school, he had literally fled Ohio days after his eighteenth birthday to follow his dreams. To anyone looking in from the outside, it would appear that his passion and determination had paid off, here they were getting ready to celebrate their sophomore album's release in a few months with a fan base that seemed to grow by the day, by all standards they had made it.

But to Andy things were very different, things didn't feel like a dream, they felt like a fucking arms race. From the day his cowboy boots hit the streets of Hollywood he had been on the run. Before he knew it there were people trying to sink their claws into him, everyone wanting a piece of what was 'sure to be' the next big thing. Producers, managers, and shady musicians all looking to hitch a ride and make a quick buck off him. At eighteen he had been naïve to it all, seeing the best in people got you eaten alive in this town.

Not only did he have to constantly watch his back but everything he did, everything he said was up for criticism. The years of relentless bullying in school had done a number on his self-esteem, as a self-described 'chubby' kid the names he was called haunted him still. That was all supposed to be behind him, he had worked so hard to craft himself into something to be desired. Tall, blue eyes, long black hair, deep voice, and an impossibly thin figure, people either wanted to be him or be with him. So why was it that when some metalhead in a Black Sabbath t-shirt screamed 'faggot' at him that his blood still boiled the way it did at thirteen being slammed against a locker?

Was it because he was afraid of people seeing past the mask? That the larger than life character he'd created was nothing but smoke and mirrors and behind it all was a deeply wounded fucked up kid who never really grew up. That he'd become a borderline alcoholic by the end of their second tour, that he chain-smoked his hunger away to stay thin, that more than a few times he'd found himself with his fingers down his throat telling himself it was just to 'make himself feel better'. Or was it because he didn't want people to know that he'd spiral into anxiety and self-doubt alone in his bunk at night because he knew one day the monsters he was running from would catch up to him? That he would be exposed.

Or maybe he just didn't like being called a faggot.

"Are you taking these shots with us or not, motherfucker?" CC asked, his laugh snapping Andy out of his haze.

The drummer's painted hand dangled the shot glass in front of Andy, it was overflowing with whatever whiskey CC had brought from the bus, dripping down onto the stained greenroom carpet.

"Of course, I fucking am." Andy grabbed the shot glass, throwing it back and chased it with a can of Coke Zero, the bitter liquid burned his throat but he had grown to like it.

Oddly enough, he had started his career vowing to be a sober musician. He'd watched too many of his childhood heroes become consumed with drugs and alcohol, and he didn't want that to be his plight. It didn't take long after moving to Hollywood for him to realize that made him the odd one out. All anyone seemed to care about was partying, drinking, and fucking. He managed to resist during their first tour, but a lapse of judgment on their second was all it took.