The Rhythm Of Our Broken Hearts

Chapter Twelve: I Can't Save Our Hearts Tonight

Chapter Twelve: I Can't Save Our Hearts Tonight

Andy ducked his head, quickly making his way off stage and out of sight of the fans still screaming for more. Halfway through the set his voice had almost completely failed him; he lied to the fans telling them he had laryngitis. Of course, they believed him, it was a perfectly plausible reason. The rest of the band knew he was full of shit, and worst of all, Matt knew he was full of shit. He had fucked up; you should have known better he thought to himself. How embarrassing that he couldn't even make it through a forty-minute set, having to rely on the crowd and backup vocals to carry the show.

"Andy, I'm talking to you. What was that you were just fine at soundcheck." John's voice was surprisingly not as angry as his face had been through the duration of the set.

If anything, his manager seemed concerned. With all the illnesses and injuries, he'd had in the handful of tours they'd done, the man had reason to worry. Andy felt bad for John, he didn't sign up to be a babysitter, and he was pretty sure he stressed the blonde-haired man out. But if there was one time he wished the dude would just leave him alone, it was now. John was nothing compared to Matt, however.

The singer had made the mistake of looking over at the guitarist towards the end of their set; the look on the older man's face was a mix between anger and worry. Andy had no desire to get a lecture, he felt like shit and just wanted to go to bed, so he didn't stop when Matt tried to talk to him after the show. His throat was on fire after frying the last of his voice on stage, and he felt dizzy and lightheaded.

"Andy?!" John yelled again as he followed after the singer through the maze of backstage hallways.

"John, I'll handle it," Matt said, placing a hand on the shorter man's shoulder and pushing past him.

The older man was infuriated, he was trying not to jump to conclusions, but he just couldn't think of an innocent explanation. Andy had lied to him; he'd asked him if he was okay; he shouldn't have fucking left him alone. He wasn't quite sure how to even confront the singer, should he just come out and accuse him? Cornering Andy hardly worked out in anyone's favor; the man seemed to have a knack for getting himself out of those situations. Besides, what type of conversation would they even have, Andy could barely even bid the crowd goodnight.

"Andy, you're not running away from me. What the fuck happened? You were fine less than two hours ago?!" Matt yelled at the retreating man.

Andy flung the back-entrance door open, almost hitting Matt in the face with it. His heels clicked against the asphalt as he made his way towards the bus. He wasn't even sure why he was ignoring Matt; it wasn't like the man would suddenly realize he didn't want to talk and drop it.

"Take another fucking step and we're done." Matt snapped, stopping in his tracks and holding his breath for Andy to make a move.

He watched as the singer came to a halt, keeping his back to the guitarist, just feet away from the bus. Slowly, he turned around, his expression blank as his blue eyes looked up at the older man.

"Andy, please... just tell me what happened." Matt sighed, feeling defeated as he braced himself for a lie.

Andy opened his mouth, his voice cracking and squeaking when he tried to speak, having to settle instead for a barely audible whisper. "Matt... not right now." He pleaded, trying to come up with a reason; anything but the truth.

"Yes, right now, Andy. What did you do? You were fine when I went on stage, what did you do?" Matt's anger was starting to turn to sadness as tears threatened to fall.