Requested by: bvbluver71
A/N: Super long one! Sorry!
(Y/N)'s POV:
You were finally at a BVB concert! You were able to get tickets this time. It's just as awesome as you had expected. You were headed over to the backstage area for the meet and greet.
You were walking behind this fake blonde when she suddenly stopped and turned around to yell to a friend. You were unable to stop quick enough and crashed into her, the beer she was holding covering both of you.
"Sorry." You said, trying to avoid trouble.
"Don't 'sorry' me bitch! Look what you did! Do you know how expensive these shoes were? More than you'll ever have." She yelled.
You looked down to see the ugliest hot pink heels you could ever buy. Her white cropped tank top was soaked through to reveal a leopard print bra underneath holding up her fake boobs.
"I said I was fucking sorry. What the hell do you want me to do about it?" You asked, trying to control your anger.
"Don't fucking talk to me like that emo fag." She said as she stormed off in the other direction.
You just rolled your eyes and tried to find something to wipe the beer off yourself. You were able to find some paper towels as you walked backstage.
-----most people don't do this but skip the meet and greet-----
-----4 days later----
You were just fired from work for 'looking violent'. Yeah seriously. Oh you were also dumped by your boyfriend and got a death threat from your psychotic mother. It's fine though right?
You decided to head to the bar down the street to possibly have a good time for once. It was close enough that you could walk so you did. You were never really a huge fan of alcohol but desperate times call for desperate measures.
You got there and ordered one beer. You sat at the bar, watching people dance and have a good time, wishing you were happy. After you were finished, you didn't feel like having another so you decided to walk home.
As you were passing by an alleyway, you saw a group of five people beating up one guy who was on the ground. Your mind told you to just leave it, but you couldn't. You sighed and pulled your pocket knife out, walking closer.
You couldn't believe your eyes. It was Andy Biersack laying on the ground. That made you more angry. You stormed up to the closest guy and whipped him around to face you.
"Go the fuck away." You said through gritted teeth, holding your knife up to his throat.
They all looked at each other and quickly ran out of the alley, leaving you and Andy alone. You watched for a second to make sure they were really gone before turning back to Andy.
He was almost unconscious and had blood running down his face. He was holding his stomach where he had been kicked a few times. You couldn't just leave him here. You decided to take him back to your house until he was at least a little better.
You put his arm around your neck and slid you other around his middle, lifting him, with some difficulty, off the ground. You walked the two blocks back to your house with Andy leaning most of his weight on you and dragging his feet.
Once you got inside, you walked him over to the couch and layed him down. He muttered something that you couldn't understand.
"It's okay Andy. You're safe now." You said.
