Symphonies of the Damned

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I muttered, as Ashley finished his reasoning for forgiving Jake.
“Andy, come on!”
“No.” I decided, standing up. “I don’t care how fucking sorry he is, I’m not letting him back in the band after what he said.”
“Please?”
“Why the fuck are you defending him?” I groaned in exasperation, practically throwing my arms in the air.
“He feels guilty as fuck, Andy.” Ashley mumbled, looking down at his lap. “The least you can do is listen.”
Great.
I’ve made him feel bad, and that pout centered on his perfect lips is going to guilt-trip into forgiving Jake.
“I’ll hear him out, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let him back in the band just yet.” I warned, shaking my head.
“Chris forgave him.” Ashley hinted.
“Motionless?” I questioned. He nodded. “Well, it must have been either really sincere or Chris was drunk.”
Ashley sighed, momentarily pleading defeat. “You know what? Let’s forget about Jake for a while, and go do something.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to hint at.” I muttered.
“No.” Ashley smirked. “You just wanted to stop talking about Jake. You never suggested we do something else.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine.
“You’re such a tease.” I whispered, as he pulled back and smirked; walking off the bus completely.
“I know.”
Turning the muted television off, I clambered off the steps and followed Ashley around the venue.
It was the last day of tour.
After this concert, we’d be traveling the short distance back to our respective homes and we’d be finished.
“Fuck!” I complained, suddenly remembering something.
“What?” Ashley asked distractedly, slightly amused by my sudden outburst.
“It’s the last day of tour.” I pointed out, recalling the thoughts I had in the past couple of seconds.
“Yeah…”
“We’re supposed to go home after this show.” I continued.
“Yeah…”
“Juliet.” I hinted, covering my face with a hand in annoyance. “We live together, remember?”
“You can stay with me.” Ashley shrugged, as if it wasn’t any trouble at all. “At least, until something gets resolved.”
“Thanks.” I sighed gratefully.
Ashley nodded, trailing towards the front gate of the venue. It was still locked shut, keeping early fans from sneaking in.
There was already a trailing line, gripping onto the chain links and waiting for a certain band member to walk out.
With a nod of agreement, we crept past the milling fans and proceeded to jump over the wire fence.
They watched us in amusement, a few screams breaking out when they realized who we were.
“Hey.” I smiled, running fingers through my growing hair.
It wasn’t too long ago that my previous mane had been chopped short. The blackened strands were already growing out again.
“OH MY GOD!” a teenager with dip-dyed hair yelled out, clutching an issue of AP Magazine. “IT’SANDY AND ASHLEY!”
“No, duh.” someone else muttered under their breath,
We walked down the line, greeting every waiting fan and thanking them for coming to the show.
We took several pictures with them, signing pictures and phone cases.
“Andy?” a timid voice spoke up, as we reached the end of the line. She looked around fourteen, with dark colored hair.
“Hey, thanks for coming out!” I smiled, wrapping my arms around her.
“If anything, I should be thanking you.” her soft voice mumbled, playing with the bands around her wrist.
There were delicate scars running across the insides of her arms, all the way to the crease in her elbow.
“Thank you for making the music that saved my life.” she sighed, tracing a more distinct line absentmindedly. “If it wasn’t for your lyrics or the band, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you.”
“It’s not a problem.” I smiled, hugging her again. “The reason I make music, is for the people who feel alone. For the ones who need a sense of comfort. If I can help just one person, then I’ll keep making music for that one person.”
It was little stories like these that helped brighten my day. It happened at almost every show, yet it never ceased to amaze me.
It really made me think – everyone is going through something. They have reasons for how they act.
You can’t hold something fragile, such as emotion, against someone because there’s a past behind it.
There’s a story between every scar; physically and mentally.
There’s a story behind every carefully chosen word; whispered or lashed out in pure anger.
It made me think… Jake had a valid reason for the way he felt.
It was an asshole move for bringing my unborn child into this, but there was still reasoning.
He wanted me to feel the same hurt he was feeling. He just wanted to make me understand.
The least I could do was listen.
In the midst of these thoughts, I had let go of the fan that unknowingly brought light and understanding to the situation with Jake.
She was conversing with Ashley, letting out little nods and smiles of appreciation as he spoke.
When she broke out into giggles, I couldn’t help but smile.
“You have an amazing laugh.” I pointed out, leaning into Ashley’s chest. “You should really use it more. There are so many things to laugh about, to smile about. Cease your worries and live life, Princess.”
“Thanks.” she smiled, wrapping her arms around my waist tightly. “Thanks for absolutely everything.”
“It’s not a problem.” I shrugged. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk with Jake.”
Ashley smiled in encouragement, a relieved light flickering in his eyes. “Do you want me to come?”
“Nah.” I waved the offer away. “It’s something I should really do on my own.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll see you later, babe.” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I walked off, feeling the different stares as the secret was let out; as the fans whispered and questioned.

---

"What do you want?" Jake mumbled, as I approached him.
He was sitting on the ground, against the back wall of the venue.
There was a half-empty beer bottle clasped in his hand and his hair fell in a tangled curtain around him.
"I'm just here to listen." I sighed, regretting the idea already.
I wasn't one for giving in easily; I stood my ground.
He looked up, a wide-eyed look on his face.
His eyes appeared glazed and red, almost broken.
You would have thought he was high, but when he choked back an audible gasp, it was obvious he really did feel guilty.
"What?" Jake asked, seeming thrown off.
"I'm ready to listen." I repeated. "Instead of just yelling or throwing you off the bus, I'm ready to listen to why you feel that way about me and Ashley."
"Felt." Jake corrected.
I raised an eyebrow, confused.
"About why I FELT that way about you and Ashley." Jake shrugged, letting me know he wasn't going to intervene in our relationship anymore.
My lips twitched with the hint of a smile, but I forced to keep an indifferent expression.
"Andy, I'm so sorry!" Jake stuttered out, his words tumbling out faster than his lips could keep up. "The worst thing I could do was bring your child into that argument. You're going to be a good father, and I never should have said those things. I don't have a right to ask for forgiveness, and you shouldn't even give me the benefit of listening to me, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for every rude comment I've made about you or Ashley. I'm sorry for every single thing I've done. I deserved to get kicked out of the band; hell, I deserve that punch to the face Ashley gave me."
"I just want to know why." I muttered, feeling slightly frustrated that he was only unendingly apologizing.
"It was like a snowball effect." Jake contemplated. "Once I made that first comment, I couldn't stop myself. It happened when I was in high school too; I turned against my best friend just because he was openly gay and I was being accused of fucking him. I didn't want to deal with that teasing, so I turned my back to him. I left him alone, and, and he killed himself. He could have handled the assholes who made him feel like shit, but his own best friend? What was he supposed to think? To feel? I was afraid of that entire ordeal happening with the band; having everyone accused to fucking each other, so I tried to keep you from seeing each other.”
Despite of myself, I was smiling.
He was being honest and sincere. The guilt had been eating him alive when he'd realized what he was doing again.
"Hey, Jake?" I spoke up, interrupting his little speech.
"Yeah?"
"Get ready." I smiled. "We have a show to play tonight, fucker."
“You mean…?” his eyes were shinning and a smile was forming on his lips as he jumped up.
I nodded. “Welcome back, Jake.”