The Rhythm Of Our Broken Hearts

Chapter Twenty: My Plague's Begun

Chapter Twenty: My Plague's Begun

The night at the restaurant had been a turning point. At least that's what Matt told himself. It had reminded him why he fell in love with Andy, it was the sign he needed. They spent the night making love, barely getting any sleep. Matt woke up feeling on top of the world. He knew better than to think things would be perfect going forward, but at least he knew Andy still gave a shit. He had missed the man's infectious smile.

That hope was what made the past few days feel like soul-crushing defeat. Two weeks of seeing how things could be had dwindled back to square one. Slowly, Andy started becoming more distant again. Getting drunk and sleeping all day. Completely uninterested in any form of intimacy unless he was shit-faced drunk.

The singer had lost more weight, and Matt suspected he was back to his old ways. Whenever Matt tried to bring it up, Andy would insist he was trying to tone up for Warped Tour. The older man was too exhausted most days to fight him on it, it was easier to leave the subject alone.

Matt sighed, laying back on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. Instead of moving into an apartment together, Andy had basically moved into his room. He told Andy he was still looking for a place, but the truth was he'd abandoned the idea. The last thing he wanted to do was move in with the singer only to have him bail. Leaving Matt to pay the full rent.

The guitarist turned onto his side, checking the time on his phone. It was well past two in the morning. Andy had gone out drinking with the guys, promising to be back by one. Matt wasn't surprised he hadn't come back yet. But it was still another let down on the list.

He flipped through photos on his phone, smiling sadly at the ones of him and the singer. All the way back to when they first met; simpler times. Andy looked so much younger, still holding onto naïve innocence. Matt kept telling himself that person was still there, hidden under all the pain. But he was starting to wonder if that was true, or if he'd ever see that Andy again.

A tear slid down the older man's cheek, the happy memories bringing an empty feeling to his heart. He tried to wipe it away, but the damns burst. He felt stupid for crying, he was too old to be doing this. He was holding onto a ghost, loving the shell of a person. Andy seemed hellbent on destroying the person he once was.

How much longer was he going to put himself through this? Would it be better to end things now and start to heal? He knew Andy wouldn't react well to it. But was that because he loved him, or because he didn't want to be alone? Matt didn't know the answer, and that worried him. Andy loved his comfort. That was why he refused to get sober, stop the disordered eating, or commit to anything new. He found comfort in this pain and Matt enabled him. Andy would never hit rock bottom as long as the guitarist was there to catch him every time.

Andy stumbled in the front door, his head spinning from the night of drinking. He felt like shit, already starting to come down from his drunken high. Drinking on an empty stomach had been a bad idea. He got drunk a lot faster than he anticipated, blacking out in one of the bathroom stalls. By the time he came to the bar was closing and he was late.

He rounded the corner, seeing double as he reached for the doorknob. Matt was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes red and puffy.

"Matt... what's wrong?" the singer slurred, collapsing onto the bed beside the man.

"Don't worry about it." Matt's voice was cold and distant, instantly sobering Andy up. At least enough to realize it was probably about him.

"I'm sorry I was late... I passed out at the bar." He reached for the older man's hand, but Matt ignored him.