Symphonies of the Damned

There was a sharp pressure on my collarbone as someone bit down, grating their teeth against the soft, warm skin.
“Fuck, Andy!” I breathed, panting his name.
He smirked in response, biting harder. The sensation was almost too much to handle.
His tongue moved down my chest, leaving a glistening trail as he came closer to the taut surface of my Outlaw tattoo.
“Fuck me.” I forced out, tangling my fingers in his hair.
“Beg.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised when he pushed himself off me, crossed his arms and smirked.
His ocean blue eyes danced with lust and whiskey as he played with the silver ring at the corner of his lips.
“Please, Andy.” I sighed, groaning softly. “Just fuck me.”
He complied, pressing his naked body against me
“Anything for you.” He purred, leaving warm kisses down my neck and around my jaw.
His fingers playfully danced their way down my torso, resting on my hipbones. His tongue glided down my neck.
“Ready?”
“Andy...” I couldn’t help but moan.
“That’s right. Moan my name baby.”
He sat up a little, before aligning his hips with mine. After a second he thrust himself into me.
My hips buckled, as I arched my back
“Fuck, Andy!” I repeated, pulling harshly on his hair.
He groaned in response, muttering a string of profanities as he clenched his eyes shut.

“Where are you going?” I asked softly, watching as he pulled on his ripped skinny jeans and a leather jacket.
“To hang out with the others.” He answered casually, fingering out his obvious sex hair.
“Oh.” I sighed, hoping to not appear crestfallen.
He walked off the tour bus without a second glance, without a second glance as the door shut behind him.
The silence began to creep around me, showing the existence of its friend Emptiness.
Pulling on my own skinny jeans, I leaned back against the mismatched pillows on the mattress.
It was early March, and we were on the first tour of the year.
After a couple weeks of planning, we had created the Symphonies of the Damned tour, which would be co-headlined with Falling in Reverse.
It was our first show and I had already gotten fucked over by Andy fucking Biersack.
It wasn’t that hard for him to convince me.

You guys did great!” Ronnie complimented us, as we ran off the stage and away from the cheering crowd.
“Thanks.” Andy smiled cockily; wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel he had been handed.
“Who’s up next?” Jake queried.
“I See Stars.” Jon answered, leafing through his iPad as someone herded the black suit, colored tie-decked out band onto the Kellic stage.
Motionless in White would be playing after their set was finished.
Before Jake could reply, Andy had grabbed me by the sleeve of my leather jacket and dragged me elsewhere.
“What’s up?” I asked, my heartbeat spiking when I looked into the deep color of his eyes.
“I was wondering…” he smiled, taking a swallow from the bottle in his hand, “if you’d like to come back to the bus with me?”
By this point, I probably seemed like an overeager fan-girl as I followed him back onto our own bus.
He pushed me backwards onto the mattress in the back room, pulling off his shirt in the process.
His lips instantly attached themselves to mine as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear.

It was the same every tour; he would talk me into having sex with me whenever he was drunk or horny.
After we were finished, he’d get back up and walk out like nothing had happened.
Every time he did that, my heart shattered just a little bit more.
It wasn’t too bad, if it would happen again the next day. At least I could pretend he returned the feelings.
At the end of the tour, he would return back into the open arms of his long-term girlfriend, Juliet.
That was when another piece of my heart would be ripped off and burned into smoldering ashes.
There were so many meaningless sex scenes between us, but I still refused to see Andy in a different light.
In the light where he was a lying, two-faced, cheating man whore.
He was perfect.
He was such a caring man with a sense of humor and a profound intelligence. He was confident, but still very down-to-earth about the things he had accomplished.
He was passionate.
My heart was his, given on an engraved silver platter; I had fallen deeply in love with this man.
With a man who wouldn’t see me the same.