The Rhythm Of Our Lonely Hearts

Chapter Two: Hollywood and Highlands

Chapter Two: Hollywood and Highlands

Matt eyed the singer, watching as he sprinted from one side of the stage to the other. His movements erratic, visibly intoxicated. The crowd screamed his name, only pushing him to do more. His voice had spite to it, singing with passion and raw emotion.

The older man leaned back against the wall. He was hidden from view, watching the show from the hallway that led backstage. He didn't know why he bothered to stay; Andy made it clear he wasn't wanted. But the guitarist had fought L.A traffic to come, so he stayed anyways.

He missed Andy. Matt had lost more than a lover; he'd lost his best friend too. The past two weeks had been lonely. Hoping that the breakup would force Andy to evaluate his life. Underestimating how deep the singer had fallen into his ways. If anything, he'd gotten worse. From Matt's vantage point it didn't even look like the man was aware of where he was. Blacked out and probably high on something.

The younger man climbed up on one of the pillars above the crowd. They cheered, prompting him to climb up the next one. His long legs barely enough to hoist him up the step. Matt chewed at his lip, his nerves acting up. Andy stumbled, the intoxication making it hard to keep his balance.

He was already up fairly high, screaming the course to the song. He glanced down at the older man. Sneering and making it known that he didn't approve of him being there. Andy ascended to the final platform, now at least fifteen feet above the crowd.

"He's... not going to jump from there is he?" Matt asked, nudging John.

The blonde-haired man looked up, cursing under his breath. "He better fucking not. I told him not to go up there."

Well, there was the problem, John should know that telling Andy not to do something was the surest way to get him to do it.

Matt's heart sped up as the singer sat down on the platform. Peering down into the gap between the hallway and stage. There was no way he was actually contemplating jumping. Even if he went straight down, it was enough to break his ankle. The older man watched in horror as Andy pushed himself off the ledge, trying to make it across the gap.

A rush of adrenaline shot through the guitarist as he heard the horrid sound of Andy's torso hitting the railing. Falling limp onto his back as he hit the ground. Matt felt sick to his stomach. Andy was laying on the ground, motionless.

"Fuck-" Matt sprinted over to the man as security crowded around him.

Andy heard the crack of his ribs before he felt the pain, blacking out instantly as his head hit the ground. When he came to the band was still playing, several men in security uniforms were hovering over him. His entire torso felt like it was on fire, sharp radiating pain making it hard to breathe.

His head was throbbing, his vision blurry. For a moment he didn't realize what had happened, not connecting the pain to his failed attempt to jump onto the stage. He rolled over onto his side, moaning as the pain started to intensify.

"Andy... fuck, Andy... oh my god..." Matt's voice cut through the screams of fans and blaring guitars.

He opened his eyes, seeing the older man knelt down over him. Matt's eyes were full of panic. "Andy, are you okay? Holy shit... someone call 911!" he shouted.

"Fuck... I'm f-fine." Andy groaned, pushing himself off the ground with the help of security.

Adrenaline and alcohol took over, dulling his pain enough to give him the illusion that he was alright. He clutched his side, staggering towards the stage. Leaving the stunned guitarist behind.