Journey to the Past

I would not get out of my room for half a year. I was never without my guitar or bass. Sometimes I’d play out in the balcony—still in my room, see? Sometimes I’d get out of my room but only to go into the music room and play piano or try out new strings or instruments or write songs or bass lines or guitar parts. I was trying to learn drums but it was hard and I just grew sadder. If I’d ever be out of those rooms, it’d only be to go to the bathroom, shower, or brush my teeth. Other than that, I was locked away.

Of course I ate—but in my room or the music room. Dad, Scout, or Vinnie would come up with a plate of food and give it to me, and then would return to get it after. I was never out. They knew not to bother me but dad had perseverance to get me out somehow but I wouldn’t give in. I know he missed me and I missed him. I missed Vinnie and Scout but I didn’t want to see anyone at the same time. It became so annoying that I literally locked the door so they couldn’t barge in anymore.

Now I sat in the middle of the music room with my guitar in my hands. I played and played and played. I felt like my hands were playing but my mind was somewhere else—the lights were on but nobody was home. That’s how I usually am now. I wonder what song I’m playing…

I was interrupted though and I jumped and stared at the door with huge eyes like a deer in headlights, looking and feeling scared as my dad came in.

“You’re going to school tomorrow. The new semester is going to start in a bit and you’re going and you’re going to graduate and then we’ll see from there… but this,” He gestured at the room and at all of me. “You can’t…” He let out a deep sigh. “I know… how you must be so very emotionally scarred from what had occurred but I feel like I don’t have you—and I really fucking miss you. I still don’t know much about you. You’re here but you’re not and I can’t keep leaving you alone to go into your own little world when… I want to be a part of your life so much…” and I knew he was intelligent but it, for once, was difficult for him to find words to say to me. I feel like he had a lot to say to me, actually. “and it’s not happening because you only come down for one time of the day and you’re like a fucking robot right now and, like, really, who are you?”

I stared at him softly, waiting for him to continue.

“March came around and you missed your birthday… happy nineteenth, Andrea, in which I went to your door and had to slide a card under your door and yell ‘Happy Birthday’ to you through the door. You’re so isolated from us. It’s like you don’t even live here… you need to get out because…” He was pacing around and talking with his hands as he said this. I like how he looked. Since when did he change a little? His hair was straightened and not teased—but he did have that natural bounce because of the layers—and his hair seemed to have grown a bit longer. He didn’t have as heavy makeup (as in he just barely lined his eyes, like I could BARELY see it) and his lipring was gone and there was a vague scar on the corner of his lip. He had a blue, plain t-shirt on and skinnyjeans that didn’t look painted on. Also, his skin was as clear and smooth-looking as ever but I could see under his eyes lines that curved under and lines on his forehead and at the space in between his eyebrows and the bridge of his nose. He had noticeable laugh lines even when he didn’t smile and his skin on his arms was starting to look a bit different.

Ohmygod who is this guy?

Six months?

“You look like an old man,” I said.

“And you would know that if you spent time with me.”

“You should’ve made an even bigger effort,” Oh. I hit a nerve, I knew. Why’d I say that? He’s going to think of not just the six months but of all the years without me.

“Andrea!” He yelled. I jumped and slid back. “Get the FUCK out of this FUCKING world you’re in. FINE! Music: Great. Good for fucking you but you aren’t getting out and your BEST FUCKING FRIEND is crying every single FUCKING day at least once because the kid misses you like crazy. Me? I’ve cried so fucking much that I can’t even muster up anymore fucking tears for you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. “You’re going to shower and then we’re going shopping for you because you’re going to school and you’re going to spend time with me, Vinnie and Scout.”

I felt my eyes start to water. I was being yelled at. I honestly wasn’t used to this at all. Dad walked to the door and stopped at it to let in a few more words. “You know you can talk to any of us, right? I bet there’s a lot in that head of yours… that you might want to let out to people that care about you. We can listen and help. We’re here for you… and I’m your dad. I always want to know what’s in your mind. Don’t be shy or afraid or anything—especially with me. His blue eyes looked into mine and he smiled crookedly at me, making his eyes barely wrinkle.

“Okay,” I said, nodding. I got up and walked out of the room with him.

I hate how dads are right…

---

We went shopping. It was actually fun. Vinnie had hugged me practically the whole time or he was holding my hand. I liked that he was holding it. It felt nice. I know I didn’t really talk to dad much… which is going to change now… or even Vinnie… and I know he wants to talk to me… Scout… I should talk to her, see what’s up with her. I wonder why she’s here sometimes…

And so I suggest Vinnie and I camp out in the backyard. He was all for it. Dad looked at us with an incredulous look on his face but he let us go for it. We built the tent and made a little fire with marshmallows. It was a lot of fun. We ended up playing a strange game called “Chubby Bunny”, which I failed at terribly.

“This is a dangerous game! Someone could die!” I said. He laughed.

“Oh hush, woman! It’s funnier when it’s video taped…”

“I quit!” I announced, handing him the bag of marshmallows. “Marshmallows cannot be shoved like that all at once in your mouth. It can’t be done.” He laughed again. “SHUT UP VINNIE!” We laughed and he threw a marshmallow at me. I gasped and laughed, picking it up and throwing it at him. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“SO! That’s how you wanna play, eh?” He asked, smiling. He had a lovely smile. He’s a cutiepie! He jumped up. “BATTLE OF THE MALLOWS!” He yelled in a funny attempt of a brave voice. He threw them at me and I giggled, standing up and running from him.

“No fair! I have nothing to fight back at you with!” I said. He stopped throwing the sweet food at me and I turned around to face him.

“You’re quite right, madame,” He said in an English accent, making me giggle. “Outrageous, really. I say, how about a good old fashioned sword battle, old chap?” He asked. I couldn’t help but smile and giggle at him. Vinnie was so funny! He smiled whenever I’d giggle loudly. He looked around and grabbed two sticks from the ground that fell from a tree and threw one at me. “And I say, miss,” He said as he swung at me. I countered it and we clashed our swords. He pulled his sword back and twirled around in hilarious movements. We clashed our swords in a fight and I ducked and turned and jumped. “School’s quite a riot, really,” He said as we fought, still in his accent.

“Oh really? Please, do tell, sir,” I said.

“Righty-oh!” He said, smiling so much now. We laughed and fought with the twigs and grunted like in video games. “Hi-yah!” we yelled, and he continued. “I expect it’s nothing like school at an orphanage,” He said. “and you’ll meet new mates… and good ol’ chaps… maybe… possibly… it depends…” We clashed again. “And then there’s those boys who are so dashing to look at…” our twigs collided again. His eyes twinkled mischievously. “They’re the reason they make me wanna come to school.”

“Now, in what sense, sir, did you use ‘come’ in?” I asked, laughing at my small joke.

“Oh ho ho!” He pointed his “sword” at me. “You naughty naughty thing! I shall stop teaching your such language!”

“I feel like you’re going to keep tutoring me on such things if I’m going to be going to school tomorrow, sir, don’t you think?” I asked.

He nodded. “Quite so, miss, quite so.” He dropped his stick and I dropped mine. “That was fun,” Vinnie’s voice was back to his normal one and I nodded in agreement. He jerked his head towards the tent and we went inside it. We had two sleeping bags in here, a small lantern and two water bottles. We zipped the tent close and I plopped onto mine.

“Teach me about school,” I said. “In the next few minutes ‘cuz I think I’m about to pass out,” I said. He got into his sleeping back and laid down. I actually sat up.

“Well… the teachers are kind of obnoxious… there’s gunna be some boys and girls you won’t like… there’s gunna be the sluts, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the preps, the emos, the punks, the nerds, the other cliques—I don’t know… and then there’s gunna be random people—and as I call them, the cool people. They’re people you meet and become friends with, regardless what clique they are because cliques are overrated.”

“Okay,” I said. “What’s a slut?” I asked.

“I didn’t tell you?” Vinnie asked. I shook my head. “Oh. They’re girls or boys that flaunt what they have everywhere and flirt and cheat and makeout everywhere and they try to get it in every second of every day and they’re fucking obnoxious and they know they’re hot and it’s gross.”

“What is makeout?” I asked.

“Oh my god I swear I told you!” He said. I laughed. “Okay, it’s when you kiss for a long time, like a lot.”

“IS that really necessary?” I asked, rolling my eyes. He shrugged. I sighed and laid myself down now and faced him. “Why are they dumb?”

“Who really knows?” Vinnie sighed. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you under my wing.” He said softly. I smiled at what he said and nodded. I fixed his hair a little so I could see a little of one of his eyes since his hair was long and brown. His eyes were friendly and soft as they looked into mine. Vinnie leaned into me even closer—just like at the park—but was on his elbows as he did so now, and he gently brushed his lips against mine.

Wow, what a feeling! It was so subtle and quick but it was absolutely lovely. It was soft and cool and light and it gave me a warm feeling inside. I loved it… I looked at Vinnie, who smiled softly and shut the lantern off. I bit my lip softly and turned away, falling asleep with a smile on my face… maybe it was from the kiss, I’m expecting, but maybe it was also from something else…

---

When morning hit, Vinnie woke me up rather gently. School started at seven-thirty and we needed to be there on time. He smiled the whole time which brought a smile on my lips, too. What a bright and positive feeling I had inside me! Vinnie and I got out of the tent and ran up into the house. Dad and Scout were up and in the kitchen. I paused at the doorway of the kitchen to see some dilemma dad was having already.

“I don’t understand?” Dad asked.

“You don’t want them on high because they’ll get burnt,” Scout said.

“No, because… no, no, no!” he said in a funny way, like he was trying to prove her wrong. I raised an eyebrow. “You want them to be hot though, not like mid-cooked.”

“Andrew!” She yelled but laughed. “Trust me, I got this. I’ll do the waffles and you can just make the coffee.” Dad looked at her as if she were crazy. “What?” She asked.

“Like I can do coffee if I can’t do waffles…” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll do coffee and you press this button,” the toast button. “after you turn this knob to MEDIUM.”

“OHMYGOD WOMAN!” He yelled. They both softly laughed. I smiled. Dad and Scout were adorable. I walked off after Vinnie again upstairs and into my room. I grabbed some clothes and ran out of my room and to the bathroom. I waited patiently for Vinnie to get out and once he did, it was my turn. I cleaned myself up and did my hair perfectly, put my clothes on and my makeup.

I wish Erin could come with us. We’d have so much fun with it. I smiled sadly at the reflection of myself that stared back at me. A tear escaped my left eye and rolled down my cheek. I thought I couldn’t cry anymore. I guess I was wrong. I miss her so much. I felt like half of me was gone… but honestly I feel, now, with the help of Dad, Vinnie and Scout that I can slowly pick myself back up.

I was in the dark for so long…

I wiped that tear away and got out of the bathroom, running back to my room to get my bag that I bought yesterday and headed downstairs into the dining room. Dad smiled widely at me as some silverware fell to the floor at his feet. He frowned and looked down. “Really?” He asked it. Dad sat down and Scout came in with mugs of coffee. I smiled now. Coffee? Heck yes.

“So guess what I did,” Dad said as the two of us sat down. It was six thirty now. Waffles. This is so great. I just don’t know about this waking up so early, though…

“What?” I asked.

“I assumed,” Dad began, looking kind of nervously at me yet excited. “That you were like your mom…” I nodded, raising an eyebrow at him. From the corner of my eye, I could see Vinnie scarfing down his waffles like crazy. “and I therefore took an educated guess… and put you into the cosmetology shop at the high school.”

My eyes widened. “WHAT?!” I asked.

“What’s cosmetology?” Vinnie asked while he drank coffee.

“It’s the study of cosmetics and hair and nails and face or whatever—“ I answered, and turned to dad. “Dad, I have no legitimate skill to be in that shop. And if I’m going into ‘high school’ as a senior, then I’d need to have the knowledge of a senior—not the knowledge of someone who knows nothing about this sort of stuff! I’m worse than a freshman!”

“Don’t yell D:” dad pleaded. I looked sadly at him. “I mean, your hair’s always nice and you always have nice makeup so I thought you were good at that stuff.”

“I’ll deal with the humiliation later anyway. It’s too late.” I said, sighing and eating my waffles. This is just great! I don’t know anything about cutting hair or dying it or any of that stuff and now I’m in a shop that does exactly that—AND I it’s the senior class, which knows more than any other class. I’ll fail. Why can’t I just do normal classes?

“You’ll do fine,” Dad said. “Trust me.” I sighed. First annoyance I’ve ever had with my dad. This is progression in the relationship for sure. I drank my coffee as I eyed him with exaggerated anger. I am angry and nervous of course but I’m guessing it’s too late. I’ll figure it out later.

When we finished, Vinnie and I got in a car dad got him and drove off to school.

I’ve never been more terrified in my life. We jammed out to some good ol’ Motley Crue. We screamed out the lyrics of Dr. Feelgood and Girls, Girls, Girls like dorks and then put on some good Guns N Roses, having a blast with the song Paradise City until we got there. We got out of the car and walked up to the high school. Vinnie took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

We entered the doors of the lobby and found people talking.

Jeez, people here were beautiful. I felt insecure now.

“Andrea Michelle Biersack? Is there an Andrea Michelle Biersack?” I heard. I looked up and saw a blonde woman with glasses looking around. She looked like a hot librarian. Not even kidding. I looked at Vinnie who pulled me over to her. I almost stumbled on the way. She looked at us in surprise and Vinnie pointed at me.

“Me,” I said.

“Hi, I’m Ms. Myers, the senior cosmetology teacher at this school. Come with me?” I nodded and said bye to Vinnie. I grew more nervous. “So, I guess I’ll be telling you a story!” She said excitedly. “Scout Taylor Compton came in and enrolled you and that boy into the school! And she insisted you come into this shop. We saw your academic grades but there were no vocational grades so we have to see your skill today if you have any.”

“I have none—”

“She said you’d say that but she told me not take that as an answer. Come in now…” as we walked down the hall as she talked, we went into what looked like a mini salon in the school! My eyes widened. This was incredible! The girls stared at me. They were all beautiful. My insecurity grew even more. They were Californian girls anyway—well, I was one, too but I was abnormally pale compared to the sunkissed girls here. I flashed a girl a smile and she smiled back.

I FEEL BETTER.

And then Ms. Myers pulled me toward a mannequin of a head of hair. “Do these styles on this head, these styles on this head, these cuts on this head and these cuts on this head. If you need a picture as a reference, ask me, and when you’re done, call me.”

What.

Fishtail Braid… okay… I looked at the mannequin and grabbed a brush that was on the side and got to work. I’ll wing it. Who the fuck knows? Well, I guess these girls do… but really? I’ll kill dad and Scout for making me do this! But weirdly enough, every time I finished one of the styles or cuts and called her over for a check, she said I did a flawless job.”

Just trolled myself. Mom was a cosmetologist. I guess it’s in my blood.

“And you have a customer booked already—haircut and makeup.” Ms. Myers said when I finished. I groaned. I was so tired and it was almost the end of the day. “One of Scout Taylor Compton’s good friends.” She said. I nodded as I swept the hair I had cut off. “You’re officially enrolled in this shop.” She also said. “You’re very skilled in it… tomorrow we’ll see how you do with hair color.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling. Yeah, some of the girls were either fixing each others’ hair up or were working on people from the outside world who came in here for a service to be done on them. I guess I had a person today… I’m a bit nervous, though, because what if I mess up on a REAL person?!

A few minutes passed and the door opened. I looked up and my eyes widened. Dad. I gave him a “what are you doing here?” kind of look, but in a funny way. “I have an appointment.” He said. I sighed and motioned for him to come follow me. Ms. Myers didn’t notice because she was helping another student. I sat him down in what was now my station. I draped the blanket thing (I had no idea what half of these things were called!) over him and tied it behind his neck. He smiled crookedly and I gathered his dark hair in my hands.

“So, what, dad?” I asked, leaning against my station and folding my arms over my chest. “What is it that you want me to do?”

“Overall length should be up to my shoulders, a shit ton of layers, uh… and make the hair’s length layered short and then gradually go long… but layers layers layers everywhere.” He said. My eyes narrowed at him and I grabbed the spray bottle with water. I got to work. I wet his hair and snipped here and there. I redid the outgrown layers and the long hair he had that was almost at his elbows was now gone and up to his shoulders.

“Do you want me to style it, sir?” I asked. He laughed. In the middle of my cutting, I decided to be rad and turn him around so he couldn’t see what I was doing.

“Yep. The way I would prefer it.” He said.

“Of course…” I bit my lip and ran my fingers through his hair. What 38 year old man could pull this look off so well? None other than Andy Biersack. So proud to call this guy my father. I grabbed the hair dryer and dried it with my hand running through his hair, and then I looked around my station for the straightener, which was already on and fully heated. I took it and straightened his now wavy hair (since I had to wet it) and straightened each strand—but the back ones I straightened out.

I racked my brain for memory. How’d he used to look like? I chewed my lip and ran to stand in front of my dad. He smiled sleepily at me.

“KNIVES AND PENS!” I yelled at him. He looked at me weirdly and I ran behind him again. I grabbed some invisi gel and ran that through the back of his hair, grabbed a teasing comb and whipped the back, making it crazy. Then I teased it here and there… and then I grabbed a piecing serum to piece the ends of the strangs and his bangs.

“Shit, son,” I said, putting the serum back on the counter of my station. “You look mad younger.”

“MAKEUP ME!” He said excitedly. I went to the makeup drawers and grabbed everything black, ran back and took the black eyeliner first to line his eyes. This is so weird but it was still fun.

“How exactly do you want your makeup done?” I asked.

“Surprise me,” He said.

“Close your eyes, then,” I said and used a concealer that matched his pale skin tone well to hide any marks that indicated his aging… then I used a black crayon eyeliner and filled his eyelids completely. I filled that with a black gel liner and then connected that under, making it like a raccoon black eye. I then to liquid eyeliner and drew the shape of the lashes and filled that in with the crayon liner and gel liner. I then took a matte eye shadow and painted on whatever war paint I could remember was on his face—the dashes on his cheeks, one on each side. I filled that in with the crayon eyeliner and the gel one and then smiled at how satisfied I was with this.

But then when i caught myself. I knew something was missing! How could I forget the most important trademark of him?! His Chelsea smile on his right side of his mouth. I did that with the pencil liner, liquid and gel. It came out very good. I smiled again and turned his chair around to face the mirror.

“Who’s that?” He asked himself, smiling widely.

“MY DAD!” I yelled in a funny way. He laughed. “I definitely de-aged you like twenty years.”

“I miss looking like this every night.” He smiled sadly now at his reflection. He sighed and clapped. “Great job, girly.” He said. I smiled up at dad and walked off with him and grabbed my stuff on the way—until I heard a loud gasp.

Ms. Myers stared wide-eyed at Dad. Oh. Fucking. God.
All the Black Veil Brides fans are grown ups…. Oh fucking god… oh god god god god! If she was one of them…

“You’re kidding me right now!” she said. Dad blinked at her. “You’re from the band Black Veil Brides, aren’t you? Or you were, at least…” She said, smiling at dad.

I heard some whispering and then someone say “Oh yeah!” and another say “My ‘rents listen to them still.”

Dad nodded slowly and as I looked at him, I knew he felt weird. OH COME ON!!!!!!

“Remember me?!” She asked. He shook his head. My teacher smiled. “I’m Brenda!” Dad’s eyes widened and I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He slowly looked at me and grimaced when he did. He looked back at Ms. Myers and ran for it. “Well he’s still quite handsome like he used to be.”

“That’s my dad,” I said. The look she gave me was ridiculous. She no longer liked me. I didn’t like her, either. I returned her little glare.

“Who’s your mom?” She asked.

“Michelle Donahue.” I said. She stiffened at the name. I wanna hear about this story. “And anyways… since my father is here… and it’s five minutes until the bell rings… I’m going home with him. If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Myers, I’m to go into Cabinet Making to fetch my best friend and then I’ll be off—thank you very much.” I said and walked off—but right at the door was Vinnie, who was smirking at me.

“Your dad’s about to piss himself, I swear.” He said. I giggled as he pointed at my dad standing against the wall looking pale.

“The fuckkkk,” He growled. “Vinnie, you drive. Offspring, come hither,” I laughed and we all went down the hall and out the lobby doors to our cars.

I survived the first day of high school! 179 more days to go!
Now dad should tell me what’s the deal with Ms. Myers…

Inherited
verb. To receive (a genetic character) by the transmission of hereditary factors