“Can I get a Caramel Macchiato?” I heard a familiar voice in front of me. I had been looking down, opening a new roll of change and putting them in their respective slots in the cash register when he walked up… so the voice surprised me. I jerked my head up and smiled a little, so surprised to see him here. Thankfully it was seven in the morning. All of our customers right now were at the drive-thru window…only persons inside were myself, the assistant manager, and the girl working the window.. And now Andy.

“Wow. Small town.” Andy said before I could even chime a word in. Did he remember me from yesterday at the meet and greet? In fact…what was he still doing in town? Didn’t he have another show to play somewhere today?

“It’s kind of big… it’s no Los Angeles,” I made the comment with a soft smile as I punched in a Caramel Macchiato. Before I could say how much it was, he had the money and exact change on the counter.

“I’m a coffee freak,” he commented as if it should be obvious to me… I am a super Andy freak but, aside from him loving pure Pumpkin Spice shots around October and creating a whole Twitter movement because of it… I didn’t know he was a coffee freak.

“Me too. Hence working at Starbucks,” I teased and started on his Macchiato. When it was finished, I walked around the counter and handed it to him personally.

“Oh? Personal service?” The male asked with a raised eyebrow. I rolled my shoulders somewhat.

“Do you see other customers in here, smart ass?” I asked and he merely smirked. I followed him to a small two person table, sitting across from him. Part of me was starstruck, the other part of me kept my composure, just as I had yesterday when I asked about him.

“Are you feeling better today?” I asked as he took the first sip of the drink and got a little white foam upon his upper lip. I thought to myself that… if we were on a date, this would be perfect. But, I wasn’t on a date with Andy Biersack. This was all coincidence. This may be a pleasurable meeting but it wasn’t actually FOR pleasure.

“Honestly?” Andy asked and I nodded my head. I wanted him to speak as honest as he could with ‘just a fan.’ “I feel like shit. The only people who know why are my band-mates and my manager. They all have biased opinions because they know the situation. It’s moments like this I wish I was just a fifteen year old boy in Cincinnati, going to the damned school counselor for advice.” I honestly couldn’t believe those words had just come out of his mouth. I smiled a little.

“Hi, I’m Livvy. I’ll be your Starbucks advice counselor for the morning.” I said in a very professional tone, causing him to chuckle a little, taking another sip of his Macchiato.

“If only it were that simple. I don’t want to burden you. Plus my problems are too much to explain over one Macchiato.” Andy admitted and although I sighed on the inside—admitting defeat, only somewhat… I still thought of a way to keep the conversation going.

“Alright. I won’t be your Dr. Phil, right now. But at least tell me what you’re still doing in Louisville? I mean…don’t you have another show to play in a different city tonight?” I questioned him and he nodded.

“Yeah. I felt so bad though, was so sick yesterday afternoon when we were set to get on the road that my manager decided it was best I just stay here in a hotel. The whole band, of course. I’m meant to be back at the hotel by nine to hit the road for the next venue but… I just don’t even have the will to sing tonight.” Wow. It sounded really bad, whatever Andy was going through. I sighed a little.

“If we’re speaking honestly here… then, I apologize for not holding back, okay?” I asked and he simply nodded. “I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you—but, being enough of a fan to know some of the hardships you’ve faced… Surely whatever you’re going through right now isn’t any worse? I know earlier last year you lost your Grandpa…” my voice trailed off a little bit, as I chewed on my bottom lip.

“I don’t mean to upset you by bringing it up but… for me, if I lost my Grandpa, I know it would be the hardest thing I’ve had to go through so far as a nineteen year old. I couldn’t imagine something being harder than that… So, I just want to say that maybe… whatever you did then, will work this time… to help you get through it.” That’s when Andy really broke down, biting hard on his bottom lip to choke back tears. Before he could say anything, I instinctively reached across the table and took his hand.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to speak so brutally…” but I was cut mid-sentence.. He squeezed my hand. Andy wasn’t full on crying, but you could tell… he was most certainly on the verge.

“That’s the problem. I don’t have the support system now, that I had for that…” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant. I gasped a little, squeezing his hand a little tighter. I knew it wasn’t my place, but I was just so flabbergasted.

“She left you?” I asked and he hung his head low… He didn’t have to say yes, or even truly nod. I knew the answer was yes. It had been I think a year and a half now for Juliet and Andy. They were both singers in successful bands, so it was no secret when they became a couple…but I was surprised it wasn’t all over the Internet that they’d broken up.

“I’m so sorry… I really am. I never would have thought that… Even yesterday, when you looked so depressed…I never thought it was this that was hurting you. I thought maybe he’s just sick… maybe he’s overworked… maybe he ate something bad… or maybe Ashley pissed him off…” that earned a small chuckle from him, but ultimately, he was in shambles sitting in front of me. I scoot my chair around the small two-person table and wrapped an arm around him. I didn’t care if it was PDA or not… he needed a friend.

“She was my everything.” His voice was soft as he laid his head on my shoulder and I just hugged him close. I didn’t really know what to say… right now, really, he’s the one that needed to talk. To get it all out… “I’ve had a lot of women come and go in my life… Scout, hell I have tattoos of her too. We’re still such close friends and I know Juliet wants the same. She wants us to still be friends, that’s what she said but… with as much in love with her as I am, how can that ever work? With Scout it was a mutual break up. We both felt like we needed to separate. I had to give time to BVB, she had to commit to her movies. But for JuJu and I… it had been working so well for so long…”

“What did she say was…the reason behind breaking up with you?” I hoped he wouldn’t find my question too intrusive. He needed to vent, hopefully he saw that as much as I did.

“I don’t know. When I started out on this tour a couple months back, she was fine with it. She had her own life to live and I wasn’t holding her back from it all. But then a couple days ago, I knew she sounded different and then two nights ago, after the show here in Louisville…she called and said that we should break up. I asked her why and she said she can’t handle me being away so much…but what if this was her and her band out here getting larger than life? That’s what hurts the most! She knows I would never leave her over something so trivial as… ‘you aren’t home enough!’” I could hear the anger in Andy’s words.

“Calm down,” I said in a soft voice, rubbing over his back gently as he took another sip of the Macchiato in front of him. “If we’re still speaking brutally honest… she doesn’t know what she’s let go of. You were there, you supported her through some hard stuff. She came into your life at a vulnerable time, that much is certain. She’s helped you a lot, too, and how a person can just… let go of that. Did she say she still wanted to be friends, like you and Scout?”

“I don’t know. I was just so baffled over her breaking up with me that…the rest is just mixed signals. It’s like… does she think we’ll get back together as soon as I’m off tour? If you’re going to be that wishy washy, I don’t want you. If you can’t have me at my worst, then I don’t want you at my best.” Andy was speaking brutally honest, I could tell. I wasn’t even sure if these were things he could say to his band-mates.

“What does Ashley, Jake, the guys think of it?”

“You know Ashley…” he spoke to me as if I was… his friend or something just then. Or at least it felt that way to me. “The forever Playboy. He’s glad I’m on the market again but I’m not…not so soon. CC’s happy just sleeping about… dating different girls different days of the week. You know Jake and Jinxx are happy with their women. Hell Jinxx got married back in October…”

“I remember. I figured you and Juliet weren’t far behind, really…” I said quietly and Andy sighed some.

“We were engaged, to be entirely honest. I proposed at Christmas but… she didn’t want it to be officially official until this tour was over… I should have known something was up then… she didn’t even wear the ring when I was in Los Angeles.” He sighed even heavier and then I lent in, kissing the side of his head.

“There’s no problem that Starbucks and Livvy can’t fix,” I spoke of myself in the third person. “I’m not trying to downsize the situation. I’m not telling you you’ll get over it, or it’ll be easy, or ‘it just takes time.’ I just know that you aren’t doing yourself any good wallowing in it. You need to vent, and I’m so glad you’ve confided in me. I really feel like the luckiest girl in the world.” I admitted and I noticed him smile just a little.

“Andy, you need to do what you do best. Write a song about your broken heart. I know you wrote Mortician’s Daughter about Scout, that’s no secret to anyone. Write about Romeo and Juliet and how you feel that she just put a dagger through your heart, or poisoned you… something.” I knew it was a long shot, to really console him, but… anything was possible, wasn’t it?

“You know what, Livvy?” His smooth deep voice questioned and I raised a brow, as if asking ‘what?’ “You’re right. I’m sitting here in a coffee shop. I’ve been here over thirty minutes and no one has broken down the door screaming ‘oh my God it’s Andy Six!!!’…yet. I should just ask you for paper and write. Isn’t that what every normal person does in Starbucks?” He asked and I laughed.

“Well… we don’t see a lot of actual…writers. We see more typists.” I teased but regardless, I stood up and walked to the back of the store and returned a moment later with a notebook. “I got this out of my purse. It’s mine, I don’t really care if you read my personal thoughts. They’re probably a lot like your own. But really, just write. Write until your hearts content. If someone comes in that recognizes you, or starts flogging you… I’ll move you to the back.” I winked and he chuckled, nodding his head.

“Thanks, Livvy. You’re a good friend,” and when he said those words, I thought my heart was going to soar out of my chest. I felt it beating erratically but I didn’t let him see that. I merely smiled and nodded my head, taking my place behind the counter. I let the girl at the window take her ten minute break, so I was pretty busy from that moment on. The next thing I knew, it was drawing close to nine and Andy had stood up with the journal and placed it on the counter.

“I’m going to have to get back to the hotel, I didn’t want to take your journal though… It did me good just to write. I feel bad about ripping pages out, so I thought… you should keep what I wrote. Maybe give me some constructive criticism or something? You are a barista. I’m sure you’re a good writer.” To hear him compliment me, it was driving my ego up the wall so to speak.

“I don’t want your writing if it’s something you might put on a record one day… You can keep my journal, I really don’t mind… something to remember me by? I mean, when will you be in Louisville next? Three years from now maybe?” I asked, inwardly sighing. I thought I saw a glimmer of… denial in his deep baby blues.

“This is going to sound really forward,” Andy commented, but I stopped him before he could start. I heard a lot voices and looked towards the door to see a group full of young girls heading towards the door. They’d undoubtedly know who he was…so quickly I told him to go to the back. I met him back there about five minutes later.

“Alright. Go on,” I said, closing the door to the ‘locker-room’ in the back where the employees kept their personal items.

“I don’t want to stop talking to you.” He sounded kind of… nervous. Maybe I was just that good at reading people, because he didn’t come off nervous whatsoever. “I don’t know if it would be something you’d want… to like… exchange numbers or e-mails…” his voice trailed off some and I nodded my head.

“I’d love that. That way if you’re feeling down before the show tonight, just call me.” I smiled some and wrote my cell phone number in the journal that I was allowing him to keep.

Notes

Word Count: 2,481