Symphonies of the Damned

Fuck everything.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, my head was throbbing and the room was spinning.
I couldn’t remember where I was.
Sitting up, I couldn’t place the setting of my surroundings. This wasn’t my tour bus.
Fuck.
It was too fucking early to be thinking; to be wondering what was going on.
I was shirtless; my leather jacket discarded over a couch just a few feet in front of me. At least I was still wearing pants.
Standing up, I stretched my sore muscles and admired the reflection in the one way glass that made up the window.
“Andy?”
The deep, sleep coated voice perked at my ears, catching my attention.
Fuck.
It was too early to be horny, but it was how my body reacted to hangovers.
Ronnie was standing in the hallway leading to the bunks, rubbing his eyes with a tired hand.
What was he doing here?
Oh, that’s right,
This was Falling in Reverse’s bus, if it wasn’t obvious by Jacky Vincent’s electric green guitar in the corner.
“Good morning.” I smirked, sending him a coy smile.
“You’re phone is ringing like crazy.” Ronnie offered me the Batman-cased device, while simultaneously pulling on a black tank top.
“Thanks.”
“I’m going to get coffee, do you want some.”
“Sure.”
He nodded, stepping off the bus with his wallet in hand as he headed towards a quiet coffee shop just across the street.
Yawning, I settled myself on the couch and scrolled through my messages.
There was a good morning text from Ashley, a “where the fuck are you” message from Jinxx, and the rest were Twitter notifications.
Ignoring Ashley’s text, I sent a reassuring reply to Jinxx and started reading through my Mentions page on Twitter.
Several were from fans; talking about how great the show was last night or how excited they were for an upcoming venue.
Then, there were the others.

“Fuck, the tour would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for Black Veal Brides!”
“I don’t get how Andy Ballsack got a recording contract, he’s worse than a dying cat.”
“LMAO, he probably sucked the labels dick to get signed.”
“Why is he even alive?”
“Suicidal emo-freak! He should just kill himself already!”

Biting my lip, I tried to ignore the oncoming rush of emotions as I reach each hate-filled message.
Fuck them.
I was so much better than they were, and they weren’t going to be the ones who were going to bring me down.
Right?
A single tear rolled down my cheek as realization hit.
I would never escape high school’s hatred and bullying. It was bound to follow me everywhere, and it wasn’t going to stop until it won.
It was insane.
Wiping away at the traitor tear, I tried to focus on other things. The energy that I felt performing last night.
There were so many people out there to support Black Veil Brides; it was bound to outweigh the negative!
Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on the positive when the door opened and someone stepped back on.
“I’m baaaack!” Ronnie sung, laughing sleepily.
Oh, fuck yes.
He was carrying two coffee cups in his hands, the steam escaping from the tiny puncture hole on the top.
His eyes danced with happiness.
Since he didn’t drink anymore, he wouldn’t have to deal with hangovers anymore; lucky son of a bitch.
“Thanks.” I smiled, winking at him.
He set the coffee down, sending me a confused glanced. “Are you okay Andy?”
“Yes.” I ensured.
“You seem…upset.” He pressed, worry gathering in his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it.” I growled, pushing him back against the opposite couch.
“Andy!” he protested.
Not very much, though.
His arms crept down my lower back, resting on top of my ass. My fingers decided to tangle themselves in his hair.
“This- shouldn’t- happen.” Ronnie tried, between sexual pants.
Playing with the zipper on his skinny jeans, I started pulling at the man-made mechanism.
“Mmm, it should.” I whispered huskily, leaving kissed down his neck.
“What about Ashley?” he asked, pulling my shirt off.
“What about him?” I questioned, biting down on his collarbone. He groaned in response, writing beneath me before giving me an answer.
“What about Juliet?”
“I don’t give a fuck.” I growled after a second of consideration.
Biting down harder on the soft skin above his collarbone, I continued until a deep purple mark appeared.
“Oh. Fuck, Andy!” Ronnie moaned, groping me through my pants.
“That’s right.” I smirked. “You know we both want it.”
Fuck.
I’m such a god damn whore, but what can I say? I’m living out this rock and roll lifestyle, and not even haters were going to stop that.
“You’re such a whore.” Ronnie groaned. “You’re nothing but an easy fuck for me.”
“Same.”
Pulling his pants down, I leaned down on my knees and left playful kisses between his thighs.
“Fuck!”
“I love when you scream like that.” I winked, rubbing my thumbs against his tattooed hipbones.
“I can make you scream louder.” Ronnie smirked, tugging at my hair
“Do it.”
“You want me to show you how much of a fucking whore you are?” Ronnie raised an eyebrow.
“I love it when you talk dirty.” I breathed, nodding.
He stood up, switching places with me as he pushed me against the floor of his tour bus.
He started kissing down my neck, letting his tongue glide across my chest.
“Oh, fuck!”
His eyes sparkled with lust as he bit on my hipbones, pulling off my skinny jeans and following my example.
His lips touched between my thighs, randomly gripping at the skin with his teeth.
“Fuck!”
He was right; I could scream louder and I fucking loved it.
“You’re such a slut.” Ronnie laughed, his lips kissing at the tip of my throbbing member.
Fuck.
No wonder Ashley loved it when I fucked him.
The sensations were overwhelming, and just. Fuck!
“What about Ashley?” Ronnie raised an eyebrow, teasing me with the obvious playful wait.
“I was just thinking how much he must love it whenever I do this.” I groaned, scratching at his back lightly.
“Oh…”
His eyebrows raised in amusement.
“What?” I panted, the tension becoming painful. I needed to be fucked already.
“He likes you…” Ronnie sang, smirking.
“Who?” I asked. “Ashley?”
“Mhmm.”
“No he doesn’t.” I argued, taking in the new piece of information.
“Andy! Why the fuck do you think he keeps coming back every single time?” Ronnie questioned my sense of judgment.
“Because I’m a great fuck.” I replied cockily.
“That you are.”
“Are we going to fuck, or do I have to ask Devin to do it?” I demanded, thinking of the front man for I See Stars.
“Ugh.” Ronnie groaned, kissing between my legs again. “You are a fucking whore, Andy.”
“I know.”
His tongue flicked at the tip again, causing my senses to go stir-crazy.
“Fuck!”
“You’ll go to anyone for a fuck Andrew. If you weren’t in a band, you’d be a pretty good prostitute.”
Smirking, I bit down on my lower lip as his mouth wrapped around my length, his throat clenching.