Demons

Jake had to drive Andy and I home again later that afternoon since Andy didn’t bring his car. I suggested catching a bus, but Jake so kindly (and quite smugly) reminded me that their band was kind of famous - a trait so very easy to forget in their down-to-earth presence. The remaining three boys and I shared a quick farewell before we were on the road again. This time, however, the drive seemed to last forever, the wait prolonged by an expanding sense of dread growing in my stomach. Tina and Lucy were probably worried sick when I didn’t come home from work, and it had completely slipped my mind to let them know I was with the boys. As strange as it sounds, it was as though Andy had a tight grip of my consciousness, letting me indulge myself so deeply into the present that everything within the past or future couldn’t breach the entrance to my mind.

But the trip ended with an abrupt stop, and we were soon ascending the steps towards their porch - and with each step, I found myself preparing for the reprimand I was bound to receive. Andy’s presence loomed behind me, and for a moment I caught myself wondering how I was going to explain his appearance - but then I remembered how they were the ones who made him come here in the first place, to check up on me of all things, and the guilt slowly subsided. When the front door creaked open, I honestly expected them to rush in, hurling questions at us at a mile a minute. But it was silent. I threw a quick questioning glance at the boy beside me, but he just shrugged casually and walked right in. With slight hesitance I did the same, slowly closing the door behind me. “Hello?” I called out, wondering if they were even there, despite their car being parked in the driveway. However, a muffled “hey” within the direction of the living room told me that was not the case.

Side by side we walked towards the origin of the voice, and we entered the living room to see John, Karen, Tina and Lucy all huddled around the dinner table. “Hey, sweetie,” Karen greeted, not put off by our awkward intrusion at all. Tina and Lucy’s eyes slid from Andy to me, and two small, matching smirks grew on their faces, but they said nothing. “Care to join us for dinner?” John offered, already on his way up to grab more plates, but I waved him off. “No thanks.” John merely nodded and stabbed his fork into yet another potato, but I could feel the eyes of everyone below the age of 50 in the room on me. “You just go upstairs then. I’m sure you’d rather be alone,” Karen winked, prompting her children to roll their eyes. “Um… Okay, then.” Andy and I quickly turned on our heels and retreated back to my temporary room in silence. “Well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” Andy chuckled as he slung himself across my unmade bed, tucking his arms behind his head. “Tell me about it,” I mumbled. He patted the space next to him on the bed, offering a joking “I don’t bite”, and without hesitance I smoothly delved onto the soft mattress much like he had done seconds before. As soon as my feet left the floor, he pulled me into a warm embrace where I tucked my head beneath his chin.

His chest rose and fell with each deep, calm breath, and his exhales blew a few strands of hair into my face, tickling my nose. If that wasn’t the embodiment of contentment, I didn’t know what was. The warmth he radiated felt much like a blanket being tucked tightly around me, and my body felt heavy with drowsiness. Apparently Andy felt that way too, as his eyes were closed when I peered up at him, and I slowly felt my own do the same. “Do you know what time it is?” he asked quietly a few minutes later, basically on the brink of sleep already. Too tired to move my limbs, I mumbled a slurred: “There’s a watch on your wrist.” His arms tightened slightly around my torso, and I sighed in content. “I know. But I want you to tell me.” A grumble of distaste passed my lips, but I managed, albeit a bit slowly, to slide my phone out of my back pocket. My eyes squinted at the harsh fluorescent light, and I was quick to put away the electronic device. “It’s 7-something,” I mumbled, and he started stirring.

“No wonder I’m starving,” he moaned, seconds before yawning. My stomach clenched at the mentioning of food, and I quickly clutched the fabric of his t-shirt to prevent him from getting up, in the hopes that maybe he would somehow return to our embrace, but he got up anyway. My lids were heavy as I saw him run a hand through his hair before fishing his car-key out of his pocket. “Come on. My treat,” he offered. Still desperate not to leave the soft sanctuary of my bed, I buried my head in the nearest pillow and mumbled a muffled “no thanks”. Andy sighed before lacing his fingers between my own and pulling me into an upright position with surprisingly little difficulty. “You haven’t had dinner yet, and you can’t possibly convince me that you’re not hungry. Now get up, or I’ll drag your ass down to the car myself.” I frowned, but got up on wobbly legs anyways. Maybe he would leave the subject alone, or at the very least postpone the issue, if I just went with him. A grateful smiled lit up his features as he pulled me down the stairs, our fingers still intertwined. As we passed the coat rack he smoothly grabbed his own and my jacket, and once again he opened the door for me.

“There’s this little diner a few blocks from here, if you’re interested,” I suggested, and he quickly agreed. Minutes later he pulled into the practically abandoned parking lot, and the wind nipped at my exposed skin with more intensity than I’d experienced before. But I shrugged it off and deducted that I was probably just more sensitive to the slight cold since I was tired. The diner was small and quaint, tucked between to large apartment buildings. Its bright colors and fluorescent signs contrasted sharply with the dull brick walls surrounding it, but it was cute. Our cheeks were rosy as we stepped into the heat, and Andy picked a secluded booth in the far right corner to give us come privacy. He was quick to decide on a random meal off the menu, but I was scanning the pages intently, lower lip tucked between my teeth. Nothing on the menu sounded appealing to me in the slightest, but I eventually settled on a salad and a glass of water, deeming it the healthiest option. A waiter was quick to take our orders, and while we waited for the food to arrive, Andy way more excited than me, I found myself marveling at his features once again - something I’d found myself doing to an embarrassing extreme. The way his lips moved when he talked, how animated his features became when he expressed himself, how his eyes could never stay focused on one thing for too long, except when he looked at me…

The waiter interrupted our pointless smalltalk by placing our dishes in front of us, and Andy was quick to dig in. I, however, hesitantly picked up my fork and started moving things around on the plate, my eyebrows scrunched together in distaste. After a quick sip of water, I slowly started chewing on a piece of chicken breast and almost found myself moaning at the taste. Since the last thing I ate was a small dinner last night, my stomach was shrieking with delight at the sudden intake of food, but the sense of satisfaction was short-lived. Five or six bites in I was full, as though someone had stuffed cotton all the way down my throat. With forced casualty I placed the fork back down and focused on Andy, willing the overly full sensation to pass. But it didn’t. “I have to use the bathroom,” I mumbled, sliding out of my seat and heading towards the restroom. A split second after locking the nearest booth behind me, I kneeled before the toilet and vomited - a feat that was excruciatingly painful since there was barely any food to throw up.

Acid scorched my pipes and tongue, leaving a wretched taste on my palate that couldn’t be washed away with water. Thankfully I had a packet of gum in my pocket. Andy was practically finished eating when I returned, and his eyebrows sunk in suspicion when I slid into the seat. With a clenched jaw I forced down two small bites to ease his mood, which seemed to do the trick. Pushing away his plate, he rested his forearms on the table and addressed me in a more serious tone. “There’s something I need to ask you.” I raised an eyebrow in curiosity and gestured for him to continue. “So, you know how it’s April now, right?” “I’m aware,” I chuckled. “And the band and I are going to Warped in, like, three weeks?” “Uh-huh.” His gaze slid to the window, overlooking the parking lot, before settling on me once more. “And I was wondering if… You know… You’d like to tag along? Not for the entire tour, obviously, but for some of it? CC’s been begging us to let Tina tag along, and you’d get to hang out with us and meet other bands and stuff…” His voice trailed off, almost as if he was unsure of himself, as I stared at him with a slack jaw.

He wanted me to stay with them for a while at Warped Tour? A small, rational voice in the back of my mind wondered if he wanted me to tag along just so he could keep an eye on me, but the irrational, overly excited part of me was over the moon. Going to some of the shows at Warped had always been a dream of mine, since I discovered bands like Black Veil Brides, but I’d never been able to afford it. And when I finally could afford it, I was dating Nick, and he didn’t exactly share my taste in music. My inner ramblings left me at a loss for words, and I could do nothing but nod.

Notes