The Rhythm of Our Broken Hearts (Andy/Matt)

Chapter Eleven: Ritual

Andy tipped the bottle back, hoping that if he just drank fast enough the anxiety buzzing in his brain would stop. His head was in Matt’s lap, his body laid out on the massive couch. Some cheesy 90’s sit-com was playing on the flat-screen TV, although neither of them was really watching it. The singer closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of Matt’s fingers running through his hair. The soft rumble of the bus mixed with the emotionally draining morning was threatening to lull him to sleep.

“The deal was you had to share.” Matt chuckled, taking the wine bottle from the boy.

“You should have brought your own,” Andy replied, watching as the older man took a swig of the bitter liquid.

“You’re impossible.” The guitarist teased, combing his fingers through the singer’s silky black hair.

“Mm, that feels good…” Andy shut his eyes, trying to just enjoy the moment.

“What? Me playing with your hair?” Matt raised an eyebrow, working a few knots out.

“Yeah… I like it.”
“Dear, I think that’s the wine talking.”

The older man looked down at the singer in his lap, his eyes looked tired and sad. When he’d first met the kid, they were so full of life, a youthful spark of someone who believed they were limitless. Now his baby blue eyes were dull, the spark extinguished by the weight of the world. All Matt wanted was to light them up again, help Andy regain what life had taken from him.

Andy had collected so many vices over the last year, maybe not all new, but vices none the less. By Matt’s count, he was up to almost two packs of cigarettes a day, entire bottles of alcohol, drugs, and what he suspected was a very dangerous coping mechanism. He couldn’t shake the memory from the diner, he didn’t want to believe it, but the signs were hard to miss. The younger man had lost quite a bit of weight since their last tour together and he doubted it was just the result of his new party lifestyle.

There had to be a way he could get Andy to talk about things, open up so that the older man could try and help him. If he really was making himself sick, he could ruin his voice, maybe even for good. Andy had to know that; he wasn’t stupid.

Matt picked up Andy’s right hand, brushing his thumb over the man’s knuckles. The singer watched him, flinching when he ran his thumb over the healing red marks on his pointer and middle finger. ‘Fuck’, Matt thought.

“What happened to your hand?” the guitarist asked, maybe by some miracle Andy would tell him the truth.

“I don’t know… probably from when I hit Ash this morning.” The younger man pulled his hand back, rubbing it.

“Oh… yeah, that makes sense.” Matt played along, Andy was lying to him, those marks were at least a few days old.

“Hey, how about when we get to the venue you and I go get something to eat. I’m pretty sure there’s a pizza place down the street, and it’ll keep you from getting into another fight before the show.” The guitarist suggested both a test and a change of subject.

Andy forced a smile; he knew what the other man was trying to do. The only thing he could do was go along with it, assure him that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about. Matt was just being over vigilant because of Sonny, the singer understood that, but at the same time, he wished the topic would just be dropped. He didn’t want to worry that every move he made would be watched, which was part of the problem.

If he was being honest with himself, he knew he was spiraling down into a very dark place. The problem was if he was honest with Matt, he’d make him stop. The younger man couldn’t handle any more control being taken away; it was his body. If he wanted to chain-smoke, drink, and do drugs, he could. If he wanted to engage in ‘unhealthy’ behaviors to make sure he fit the ‘rockstar’ image, that was his choice. He was young, he would be fine.

“Sure… but you’re paying.” Andy laughed, feeling relieved when the older man seemed to relax a bit.

“I guess it’s only fair, seeing as how I’ve seen you naked but haven’t taken you on a date,” Matt smirked, tugging on the singer’s hair playfully.

“Mm,” Andy bit back a moan, raising an eyebrow, “Does that mean we’re officially dating now?”
“Seeing as how I just told you I love you like an hour ago, I’d say yeah… we’re dating Six.”

The two busted into laughter, a genuine smile spreading across the younger man’s face. It warmed the guitarist’s heart to see Andy finally look happy for the first time today.

“Come here, asshole” Matt teased, pulling the singer into a kiss.
-

As it turned out, several fans had the same plan of grabbing something to eat before the show. It took the two almost an hour to take photos, sign things, and talk with the group of kids that had gathered at the pizza parlor. Andy did his best to seem upbeat, but the events of the afternoon were still weighing heavily on his mind. Was he supposed to pretend that he hadn’t almost dropped everything and quit just hours before telling these kids to ‘believe in yourself’ and ‘never give in’?

It made him feel like a hypocrite, they believed every word that came out of his mouth. They saw him as some kind of savior, someone to look up to, and he was lying to them all. He wasn’t the bulletproof persona they thought he was, he was just as fucked up as them. Fuck, he was barely even older than some of them.

“I think our pizza is ready, I’ll grab it and we can go find somewhere to eat,” Matt said as Andy finished signing another CD.

“Yeah, I’m sure there’s somewhere at the venue,” Andy replied, making it obvious that he wanted to get away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the fans, there was just a limit on what he could take. It got overwhelming at times, so many people prying for his attention, calling his name, touching him, and pouring their hearts out. The wine from the bus wasn’t nearly enough to quell the anxiety it provoked.

The singer was thankful when Matt returned holding a box, telling the fans that they had to go but they would see them at the show in a bit. Andy waved goodbye, sticking close to Matt as they made their way back to the venue, careful to avoid the large line that was starting to form by the entrance.

“I got extra cheese on it, I figured you would like that.” The older man commented, sensing that Andy was still feeling a little down from earlier.

“It’s like you know me or something.” Andy joked, turning the corner to the bus lot.

The pair ended up going back to Matt’s bus, it was easier than trying to find somewhere private inside. The rest of his band was off doing something else, probably setting up for the show or doing interviews. The front lounge was empty; the bus driver having retreated to his bunk to sleep. This would have to do for their date, Matt thought, a tour bus, how romantic.

Andy took a small bite of his second slice, trying to focus on what Matt was saying instead of his brain yelling at him that one was enough. The guitarist was telling him some story about recording their last music video, he had apparently pulled the greatest prank ever on Craig.

“Anyways, yeah… it was totally worth almost getting my ass beat by him.” The older man shook his head, chuckling to himself as he glanced over at Andy.

He was pleasantly surprised, Andy seemed to be just fine. Maybe he had been wrong, maybe he was making things out to be bigger than they really were. The singer had been right when he accused Matt of trying to save Sonny. It was a long time ago, but he did once have feelings for his former singer. Nothing like what he felt for Andy, but enough that the man’s self-destructive behaviors had brought him to the edge of his sanity. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for missing the warning signs, for looking the other way for too long.

He saw the signs in Andy, and it brought all those memories back. If he made the same mistake twice, what did that mean? At the same time, Andy was his own person, he wasn’t Sonny.

“Isn’t this some of the best pizza you’ve ever had? Who would have thought for just some random restaurant in, where are we? Grand Rapids?” Matt commented.

“Don’t ask me, I lost count after the third stop. It’s pretty good though, thanks, babe.” Andy smirked as Matt almost choked on his beer at being called ‘babe’.

“Well, sorry our first real date had to be on a tour bus, but now at least you can’t accuse me of not buying you dinner first.” The older man laughed, grabbing another slice of pizza.

Andy cocked an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? You mean when you finally get up the balls to try and fuck me?”

The singer thought it was a little bit strange that Matt hadn’t tried yet. This wasn’t the 50’s anymore; he could have that night at the hotel. So why didn’t he? Andy was partly glad he hadn’t, he was still kind of freaking out at the prospect of it. At the same time, it made him wonder. Surely the older man wanted to, right? They had done pretty much everything up to that point.

“Oh, come on, maybe I want it to be special and romantic.” Matt teased, faking a girly voice.

“You think that’s how I like it? Hm, interesting…” Andy gave the older man a seductive smile, watching his eyes go wide when he caught on to what he was saying.

“Noted,” Matt replied, finishing the last of his beer.

---

Andy tried in vain to focus on painting the intricate designs on his eyes, but he couldn’t distract himself from the anxiety that had been building in his chest since the bus. He ended up eating a lot more than he normally would, which was currently causing him to feel nauseous and bloated. By the time Matt and he were done eating it was already time for soundcheck, which the singer was forced to suffer through, feeling like shit from all the grease and beer.

The younger man had spent most of the soundcheck mentally trying to justify what he knew he was going to end up doing anyway. He’d been through the whole gauntlet of reasons why it was ‘okay’. Just like the last time, he needed to feel better. It would be worse if he tried to jump around on stage and ended up puking, wouldn’t it? How would it be any different than if he had just gotten blackout drunk and ended up with alcohol poisoning?

By the time soundcheck ended he had successfully convinced himself that he wasn’t doing it because he was worried about how he would look on stage, but that he would perform better if he just ‘got it over with’. As long as he was quick about it, no one would even notice.

What he hadn’t counted on was that Matt would glue himself to him the second he got back from soundcheck, making it damn near impossible to slip away. To make things even worse, Ash had invited some strippers to the show, and they were all in the bathroom doing blow.

“Does this look good?” Andy asked the older man, turning to face him.

He adjusted the cropped leather vest a bit before pulling the multiple belts he wore down to cover his lower stomach.

“Yeah, of course, it does. You pretty much wear the same thing every night… it always looks good.” Matt commented, looking the singer up and down.

Why did Andy even need to ask? The younger man was jaw-droppingly beautiful no matter what he wore. Matt had to admit though, the leather leggings and cropped vest were incredibly sexy.

“I mean, you look a little bit like a prostitute, but that’s what you’re going for right?” the guitarist teased, laughing at his own joke when Andy rolled his eyes.

Andy turned to the side, sucking his stomach in a bit and looking at his reflection. “Fuck, I probably should have waited until after the show to eat half that pizza. I feel like shit now.”

“I think I have some medicine in my guitar bag if you want?” Matt offered, eyeing the singer cautiously.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, I’m sure I’ll feel better by the time I go on.” Andy assured him, flashing an obviously fake smile.

The door to the bathroom busted open as Ash and three scantily clad women walked out, one of the girls almost falling over her stilettos. All four of them were wasted and coked out of their minds; great Andy thought, so it was a problem for him to get fucked up before a show, but Ash had different rules? Good to know.

The bassist glared at Andy, his foundation barely covering a clear bruise from where the younger man had hit him. The singer felt the same rage from the morning start to bubble up in his chest, having to suppress it as to not cause another scene.

“You’re gonna be alright, right?” Matt asked, putting his guitar strap over his shoulder as he prepared to go on stage.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. He’s not going to do shit; he’s too fucked up.” Andy sneered.

“Okay, good. See you in forty-minutes, love.” The guitarist waved before heading out with the rest of his band.

Andy scanned the room, his fingers tapping nervously at the inside of his arms. Jake and Jinxx were in the corner tuning their guitars and CC and Ash had gone back to the bus with the girls for the moment. The singer bit at this lip ring, knowing in the back of his mind that making himself sick right before he went on stage was a bad idea. It would probably fuck up his voice for the night, but he could just have the crowd sing most of the lyrics. He’d be fine by tomorrow.

The lock on the bathroom door clicked; the anxious feeling only growing worse by the minute. He had felt out of control all day like the world was going too fast and he couldn’t stop it; helpless. He just wanted to feel better, that was it…

The singer knelt down in front of the toilet, pushing his hair back to the side. He had to be careful not to fuck up his makeup or else someone might notice, and by someone he meant Matt. A twinge of guilt went through the boy, was he lying to Matt? Surely, the man wouldn’t be happy if he knew. He tried to push the feeling away; this would be the last time he promised himself. ‘Liar’ his conscious screamed.

Andy gagged as he pressed two fingers into the back of his throat, closing his eyes and waiting for it to be over with. Thanks to the already sick feeling in his stomach, it didn’t take much effort. The man tried his best to stay quiet, not wanting to tip off anyone outside. His throat burned from the acid and alcohol and his hands shook as he gripped the sides of the toilet. He wanted to cry; why was he doing this to himself? ‘You’re so fucked up’ he thought, ‘and no one even knows how bad’.

The singer repeated the process one final time, but something didn’t feel right. His heart dropped in his chest as he retracted his fingers, seeing the bright red blood covering them. He could taste it in the back of his throat. He felt his stomach lurch as he threw up again, this time mostly from shock. His whole body shook as he tried to wipe the blood dripping from his lips away, quickly flushing away the evidence.

Andy felt lightheaded as he stood up, his vision blurring as he fought to stay conscious. He’d just scraped his throat or something, he told himself, anything but actual damage. Walking over to the sink, he frantically washed his hands clean, trying to mentally calm himself down. He opened his mouth to say something, prove to himself he was fine, but his voice sounded raw and strained. Shit, no… he just needed some water or something.

He unlocked the door, slipping out and back over to the mirror. Matt would be offstage any minute now which meant he would be on stage any minute. The panicked singer downed a bottle of water before popping some gum in his mouth and fixing his lipstick. His throat felt like it was on fire, he’d fucked something up the only question was how bad?

Matt grabbed a towel from one of the stagehands, wiping the sweat from his brow as he made his way backstage. The crowd had been phenomenal, probably one of the best so far. The guitarist was still riding his stage high when he walked into the green room. His euphoria quickly faded when he saw the distraught look on his lover’s face; something had happened.

“Hey… babe, you alright?” Matt whispered, placing a hand on Andy’s shoulder.

“Mhm,” the younger man mumbled, conveniently taking a long drink of water.

Matt raised an eyebrow; Ashley was across the room flirting with the girls. No one else looked alarmed, so clearly world war three hadn’t broken out while he was on stage. Andy’s hands were visibly shaking though, what was going on?

Before the older man could ask, John yelled from the hallway that it was showtime, scrambling the men in the room to action. Andy leaned in and pecked the guitarist’s cheek once everyone was distracted, waving at him as he took off after the rest of his band.

Matt got his answer almost immediately. The music started to their opening song and instead of belting out the first verse, Andy held the microphone over the crowd letting them chant the lyrics while he mouthed the words. It was only a temporary fix though as Andy attempted to sing the next line. His voice was absolutely shot, it pained the older man to even hear as the singer strained to hit the notes or even produce a sound at all.

The younger man had been fine less than an hour ago; Matt’s heart sank as he started to realize what had happened. Andy was right, he wasn’t Sonny; he was sicker than that.