The Rhythm Of Our Broken Hearts

Chapter Eight: Waltz Moore

Warning: Parts of this chapter could be triggering from those suffering from an eating disorder. 

Chapter Eight: Waltz Moore

Andy ended up crying himself to sleep, his bottle of whiskey almost empty. The tears falling silently onto his pillow, not wanting anyone to hear him. He kept checking his phone, waiting for a text from Matt, something to fill the hole that had opened up in his heart from the man's absence. He didn't blame him for walking away, Andy knew that he made it almost impossible for anyone to be around him.

Matt was too good for him; he would just bring him down. Andy knew he was heading towards rock bottom; he just didn't know when he'd hit the ground. When would his fall from grace come, when the whole world would see that he was nothing but a shell of a person? Too concerned with what others thought of him to actually live.

The drinking made him forget the reality of what he didn't want to face. That he didn't like women, that he never had, and he'd known that since Catholic school. That he was destroying his body every day by eating like shit, binge drinking, getting high, and hardly sleeping. So many people who claimed to love him didn't even know him and the one person who probably did love him, he'd pushed away. None of that he could handle sober, that was the worst thing in the world to be.

That's why when he woke up at ten A.M. the next morning, he went straight to the liquor cabinet to grab a bottle of wine. Jake had attempted to say something about it being too early, but he shut up when Andy shot him a warning glare. The singer's bloodshot eyes clearly showing that he was going through something.

The buses had all stopped at some cheap diner for lunch, by which time Andy was already pretty wasted. John had taken the wine bottle from him, insisting that he couldn't bring it in. Killjoy.

Andy had to make do with a diet soda, pretending to give a shit as he flipped through the dessert menu. The rest of his band seemed upbeat and energetic, all joking around and laughing with each other. Well, everyone but Ashley, he was still asleep on the bus. That was the only reason Andy had even decided to come in with everyone else; he was still fuming about what the bassist said the night before.

"Hey Six, you alright?" CC asked before taking another bite of his burger.

"I'm fine, I'm just exhausted." It wasn't really a lie; he'd barely slept and any sleep he did manage was plagued with nightmares.

"That's life on the road, baby" The drummer laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

Andy just shrugged, looking down at the plate of greasy food he'd ordered. He could hear Matt talking a few tables away, he didn't sound like his normal goofy self. He was talking with the rest of his band, discussing some guitar riff for a new song they were writing. His voice sounded worn out and tired like he hadn't slept much either. That only made Andy feel worse, no doubt he was the reason why.

The singer took a bite of his french-fries, the mediocre food tasting delightful due to his intoxication. He tried to focus on the story Jake was telling, his focus fading in and out. Before he knew it, he'd eaten almost everything, only the crust of his grilled cheese left. His stomach felt uncomfortably full, the wine not sitting well with everything else. 'Great' he thought, now he'd be bloated during the show.

He used to eat shit like that all the time when he was younger, he had very picky diet. If it wasn't greasy or junk food, he didn't want it. That would probably explain why he got teased for his weight. Life on the road meant essentially the same diet, only now he had to worry about fitting into his impossibly tight leather leggings every night. 'Should have just stayed outside and smoked' he thought to himself.