“Andrew Dennis Biersack, give me my bra!”

I had woken up that morning and taken a shower as usual. I had neatly set all my clothing out on the counter, ready for me to put on once I stepped out of the shower.

When I was done singing the entire “We Stitch These Wounds” album, I stepped out to find that my lacey black bra was not on the counter like it should have been. I figured that I had forgotten it on my bunk, so I went back to see if it was lying on the blanket. I opened the door, a towel wrapped around my body and my hair, to see Andy holding my bra, his index finger wrapped in a black strap, and his mouth curled up in a devious smirk. He swung it in my face and ran to the front of the long bus, and I sighed and closed my eyes, trying not to scream.

Now, I was running through the tour bus, with only a towel on, trying to retrieve my stolen bra.

“Andy, here, I’m open!” I heard Ashley scream from behind me, and Andy balled up the bra and threw it over my head. It landed in Ashley’s hands and I ran towards him, only to be stupid enough to get to close and have him throw the under garment, over my head, again.

I finally gave up and sat down, crossing my legs at the ankles and I sighed heavily.

“Men are literally the most immature beings on the planet,” I thought to myself.

A couple minutes of nagging from Andy went by and he finally surrendered, throwing my bra on my lap, muttering “You’re no fun.”

“That’s right Andy. I’m no fun at all. I’m stuck up and I’m so insanely boring that you shouldn’t even be hanging out with me today,” I said, loud enough for him to here from his bunk. I heard him hop down and come racing into the lounge and he bent over and he shook his head frantically, worry lacing his features.

“We have a date today. And you’re not boring, which is why I said yes to this cute little date. Now, get up, go get dressed, and I’ll do your hair if you want me to,” he said, offering me a large hand, which I gladly took. He helped me up and smiled at me, giving me a little push towards the bathroom in the back of the bus.

---

After I had gotten changed and done my makeup, I blow-dried my hair, getting every strand and dry as possible without burning it. I put on light makeup, because being out in the sun all day causes me to sweat all of it off anyways, and I walked back to Andy’s bunk to see if he was willing to do my hair, because I wasn’t.

I found him sitting on the mattress, looking at his phone with teary eyes. His lip was quivering, and he looked like he was ready to burst. I backed off a little bit, not wanting to intrude, and I tip-toed to the bathroom to straighten my hair.

After I had finished that, I checked on Andy again and I discovered that he was lying down with his back towards me. I lightly tapped his shoulder and cleared my throat, making my presence known.

“Oh, hey Des, I didn’t know you were there,” he said, his deep voice groggy, probably from crying.

“You okay?” I hopped up onto the bunk and smiled slightly, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“Yeah, totally, what makes you ask?” he questioned, sniffling a little, and he wiped his eyes with his fingers.

“Just looks like you’ve been crying. You sure you’re okay?”

“You saw that, huh? I mean….I can’t really get over what Scout did to me. She broke my heart. I have a whole song dedicated to her.” He looked to me with new tears and he wiped them away.

“I thought you said I make you forget all that?” Why is this so confusing?

“You do, it’s, just, I can’t shake that feeling that I wasn’t, or ever will be, good enough. For anybody,” he said quietly, his eyes avoiding mine.

“Are you kidding me?” He gave me a confused look and I threw my arms into the air, a crazed expression plastered on my face. “You’re ANDREW FUCKING BIERSACK! Do you even know how many girls out there are craving your dick? Do you even know how many people out there haven’t committed suicide because of your voice and your lyrics, and your band’s music? Do you even realize how many people look up to you? Did you know that you’ve saved my life? Did you know that your music has stopped Acid from cutting so many times before? Andy, please, don’t say that you’re not good enough, I’m lucky to even be having this conversation with you.” I looked him dead in the eye and added “12-year-olds want your dick in their mouth, Andy.”

“Oh ew, that’s nasty,” he said, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “Aren’t you like, 12?”

“I’m 18, you bastard, fuck off,” I said, playfully shoving him into the wall.

“So, you ready to see a baseball game?” He asked, sitting himself up, he started to scoot his butt closer to me, inch by inch. I looked to him with a raised eyebrow and he winked, slowly pulling me into his lap.

“Who’s playing?” I asked, pulling out my phone and seeing that it was almost 11:30.

“Colorado Rockies and Atlanta Braves. They play at 2:30, so I figured, if we get out now, we’ll have plenty of time to go do whatever the hell we want,” he said, snuggling his head into the crook of my neck. His dark hair was tickling my collarbone, making me giggle.

“And what exactly do you want to do?” I asked, lifting my head slightly enough to kiss his soft cheek.

To our surprise, the bunk curtain was swiped away and we were face to face with my red-headed best friend. She laughed quietly and said “Ashley and I are going to the clubs. I have my phone on me if you need me, okay?” She reached in, ruffling Andy’s hair and she blew me a kiss before she closed the curtain and shuffled out of the bus, loudly shutting the door behind her.

“Have I ever told you that your best friend is weird?” Andy asked, wrapping his inked arms around my torso. I smiled and cuddled into his chest, pulling his arms closer to my heart. I loved the feeling of how warm he always was, and how he was always open to the concept of being close to me.

“Why can’t we just be like this all day?” I asked, my question muffled by Andy’s raven black hair. He chuckled, shaking my body slightly. He laid himself back, taking me with him, and we just sat there, content with each other’s company. I listened to his heart beat with my head on his chest for what seemed like forever, when he finally sighed happily and sat up.

“Come on Des, I wanna show you something.” His deep voice coaxing me into sliding out of the bunk.

“You never did tell me what it is you wanted to do,” I said, poking at his ribs with my elbow.

“That’s what I wanted to show you,” he said. He glided through the lounge and into the kitchen, where he reached into the fridge, grabbing two pre-made sandwiches, two sodas, and two bags of chips. He looked around and found a straw-woven basket, and started to place the items into the basket.

“You’re taking me to a picnic?” I asked, smiling and sitting down at the tiny table in the kitchen.

“Of course I am. I feel like it’s my responsibility to make up for what I did,” he said, glancing momentarily at my wrist. I looked down and saw that I had forgotten to put bracelets on, and my eyes widened in realization. I ran back to my bunk, grabbed my bracelets and hurried to shove them all onto my wrist without breaking the scabs. I walked back to kitchen and was faced with Andy, who had his right hand held out in front of him.

“What?” I questioned.

“I want your bracelets.”

“Why? You can’t take my bracelets. They’re mine. They hide th-the ugly scars.” I grabbed at my bracelets and looked to Andy like he had slapped a newborn baby.

“Destiny, please, you’re so much more beautiful without them. Your scars show signs that you’ve fought a battle, and you won. Please, just give them to me. If you can go a month without self-harming, I’ll give them back, okay? They’ll be in my suitcase where you know where they are.” He stuck his hand out farther, emphasizing his statement.

I reluctantly started to pull each bracelet off, one by one, and I piled them onto Andy’s outstretched palm. I got to the last bracelet and I looked to Andy with pleading eyes.

“This one is my favorite, please let me keep it,” I said, clutching the bracelet to my chest. It was gray with the words “BVB Army” scratched into it with black ink.

“You may keep that one,” he said after staring at it with a small smile. He sighed and went to dispose of the bracelets in the bunk area of the tour bus. When he came back, he added “I’m going to be checking your wrists every day for new ones, okay?”

“Do you have to?” I asked, worry hinted in my voice.

“Yes, Destiny. I have to. That’s what my music is about, I want people to realize that they can make a difference in this world, that they matter to people, that they matter to the band. I want people to understand that you’re going to be different and that’s okay.” He paused and reached out and took my hands in his, looking me in the eye. “I want them to understand that they’re worth something.”

“So why do you think that you aren’t good enough?” I asked quietly.

He looked down at the ground and mumbled “I fuck up everything. I make people mad and I made you hurt yourself.”

“Andy, everyone makes everyone else mad at least once in their lifetime. I hurt myself over something stupid. I have issues with my self-confidence, and I’m trying to work on that, okay? You did nothing wrong, I took what you said too literally. None of this is your fault,” I said gently. I squeezed his hand and put it on my chest, just above my heart, and smiled at his bright blue eyes.

“Let’s go have this picnic,” he said, and he took my hand and skipped, literally skipped out of the bus, dragging me behind his tall gazelle legs.

Notes

I've split this into two chapter because it's insanely long, so the next chapter is just continued from this one. (: