The Rhythm Of Our Broken Hearts

Chapter Eleven: Ritual

Warning: This chapter may be triggering for those suffering from an eating disorder. 

Chapter Eleven: Ritual

Andy tipped the bottle back, hoping that if he just drank fast enough the anxiety buzzing in his brain would stop. His head was in Matt's lap, his body laid out on the massive couch. Some cheesy 90's sit-com was playing on the flat-screen TV, although neither of them was really watching it. The singer closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of Matt's fingers running through his hair. The soft rumble of the bus mixed with the emotionally draining morning was threatening to lull him to sleep.

"The deal was you had to share." Matt chuckled, taking the wine bottle from the boy.

"You should have brought your own," Andy replied, watching as the older man took a swig of the bitter liquid.

"You're impossible." The guitarist teased, combing his fingers through the singer's silky black hair.

"Mm, that feels good..." Andy shut his eyes, trying to just enjoy the moment.

"What? Me playing with your hair?" Matt raised an eyebrow, working a few knots out.

"Yeah... I like it."
"Dear, I think that's the wine talking."

The older man looked down at the singer in his lap, his eyes looked tired and sad. When he'd first met the kid, they were so full of life, a youthful spark of someone who believed they were limitless. Now his baby blue eyes were dull, the spark extinguished by the weight of the world. All Matt wanted was to light them up again, help Andy regain what life had taken from him.

Andy had collected so many vices over the last year, maybe not all new, but vices none the less. By Matt's count, he was up to almost two packs of cigarettes a day, entire bottles of alcohol, drugs, and what he suspected was a very dangerous coping mechanism. He couldn't shake the memory from the diner, he didn't want to believe it, but the signs were hard to miss. The younger man had lost quite a bit of weight since their last tour together and he doubted it was just the result of his new party lifestyle.

There had to be a way he could get Andy to talk about things, open up so that the older man could try and help him. If he really was making himself sick, he could ruin his voice, maybe even for good. Andy had to know that; he wasn't stupid.

Matt picked up Andy's right hand, brushing his thumb over the man's knuckles. The singer watched him, flinching when he ran his thumb over the healing red marks on his pointer and middle finger. 'Fuck', Matt thought.

"What happened to your hand?" the guitarist asked, maybe by some miracle Andy would tell him the truth.

"I don't know... probably from when I hit Ash this morning." The younger man pulled his hand back, rubbing it.

"Oh... yeah, that makes sense." Matt played along, Andy was lying to him, those marks were at least a few days old.

"Hey, how about when we get to the venue you and I go get something to eat. I'm pretty sure there's a pizza place down the street, and it'll keep you from getting into another fight before the show." The guitarist suggested both a test and a change of subject.

Andy forced a smile; he knew what the other man was trying to do. The only thing he could do was go along with it, assure him that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about. Matt was just being over vigilant because of Sonny, the singer understood that, but at the same time, he wished the topic would just be dropped. He didn't want to worry that every move he made would be watched, which was part of the problem.

If he was being honest with himself, he knew he was spiraling down into a very dark place. The problem was if he was honest with Matt, he'd make him stop. The younger man couldn't handle any more control being taken away; it was his body. If he wanted to chain-smoke, drink, and do drugs, he could. If he wanted to engage in 'unhealthy' behaviors to make sure he fit the 'rockstar' image, that was his choice. He was young, he would be fine.