Andy

In morning light, I awoke to a slight chill in the room, and took notice, groggily, that the window was open, but a bright stream of warm sunlight poured in. Sitting in my usual seat, dressed in a fresh pair of black skinny jeans, all customized with patches and chains and studded belts, a black V-neck t-shirt and his Prophet jacket with a pair of converse, was Andy. I even noticed that he exchanged his usual black studs for one of my golden cross earrings.

I didn't make it obvious I was awake right away. Instead, I stayed very still and studied him with a half grin. He sat with his knees pulled up, a journal open in his lap, he bit his lip while he wrote, and I found it hard to keep from laughing, watching how sucked into whatever he was doing.

When a strangled chuckle came from me, he looked up in surprise, the sunlight catching all the metal he had in his face, sending prisms across my ceiling and walls.

He glared halfhearted at me. "Emo bitch." He grumbled, sticking his tongue out at me before resuming his work.

"What are you doing?" I laughed, shoving aside the covers and pillows to get up. As I approached him, he closed the journal and looked up at me expectantly.

"What?"

"What are you writing."

"Stuff."

I laughed and shoved his shoulder, collecting my clothes to go take a shower.

"Your voice sounds better." Andy commented before I left. "You don't sound so much like Andy singing now."

He was half smiling when I looked back at him, and I smiled back. "You heard about CC's input?" I guessed, and he nodded. "Same shit he would've said to my face, though." He chuckled, his deep voice sounding odd and familiar, like waking up from a dream. Only the dream was his presence from a week ago.

I could hear my Mom on the phone downstairs as I stepped out into the hallway. I listened for a few moments, and got the gist: It sounded like she was talking to my aunt Carolyn.

"-Yep! We're heading that way tomorrow. Oh, absolutely! I'm sure we can arrange that.... Yeah... Ash isn't thrilled. Teenagers, right?"

"Psshh." I muttered, continuing towards the bathroom.

~~~

"I see white blotches of nothingness." Andy groaned, lying on his back on the ground of my backyard. He complained because the ground was lumpy, and because a ladybug landed on him, and he was contantly swatting at a fly that had taken a liking to him.

"There's shapes." I insisted, pointing up at a fleecy cloud directly above us. "That one is shaped like a ship."

His face contorted in confusion, and he cocked his head to one side, trying to see it. Finally he shook his head and sighed. "Okay, sure, Ash... I see a ship." He mumbled sarcastically, reaching up to pluck a blade of grass out of his hair, tossing it to his left in annoyance.

"Don't you like the outdoors?" I laughed, and he frowned, shielding his eyes from the sun. "I like it, just not when it's abusing me." He replied flatly.

We were lying further down from the house, beyond the small pond we had. So if my Mom happened to look out the back window inconviently, she wouldn't see her teenage daughter having a complete conversation with the spring air.

"Maybe you're just a city kid." I replied, poking his arm in enthusiasm, he grunted, rubbing his arm where I'd jabbed him. "Don't you ever clip your nails? Goddamn..." He examined the invisible scratch on his forearm.

I rolled my eyes and sigh. "What a woos."

He narrowed his eyes at me, blue irises sparkling brightly in the sun against his wishes. "Fuck this shit..." He muttered, reaching up to pull the pair of sunglasses off the the top of his tank top, putting them on, crossing his arms, lying there begrudgingly on the cool ground in the warm sun.

"You're grumpy." I commented, scooting up off the grass to sit there, hugging my legs, digging my toes into the earth that stretched out beyong us, fading into a thick forest that went on for miles.

"I'm irritable, yes, grumpy, no."

"What's got you in stitches?"

I couldn't see his eyes, but I could see the accidental, tiny smile he got as he thought. "There was this one time..." He began, drawing it out.

"Oh, boy, here we go." I clapped my legs, waiting for him to continue. His head angled slightly in my direction, and I could imagine he was probably glaring at me, but he continued anyways.

"A few months after I moved to California, I had made this friend group of weird ass kids. You're classic 90's reject bay punks, you know." He began dismissively.

"Well, I was new, and I was impressionable. They invited me to this... Beach party," He cracked a grin, "I couldn't decline, I had to look cool in front of my peers, so I was like, 'yeah, sure, I'll come'. But I didn't really think about it much. I mean, obviously, there's warm days here, but a lot of overcast ones, too. Out there, it's pretty sunny almost every day, and I'd been a recluse since I arrived, so I hadn't really adjusted to the temperature difference yet. So... I show up to this beach party, all wigged out in black shit, like this, except with like heavy leather jackets and all that. I didn't seem to grasp the words 'beach party'.

So anyways, I show up, and there's nothing but sand and brine water for miles. Most of them were fresh out of high school or young collage students, so I was just the weird twenty-three year old watching chicks sprint across the beach in two pieces. Quite distracting. Anyways, I'm fucking roasting with all the leather shit I had on, so I take it off, wearing a normal Misfits shirt and jeans, and fuck... Did I get the sunburn of my life. My arms-" He paused in a fit of laughter as he recalled "Were so red and blistered, you could mistaken them for pool noodles. They didn't tell me I'd need sunscreen, and I didn't think about it.

I got sand in my pants, like, the shit sticks to everything. Every little nook and cranny had a fine grain of sand in it. Those students all got shit-faced, most of them passing out from heat stroke, or were puking in the sand... It was undoubtably the worst day I'd spent in California." He shook his head in disgust as he thought about it. "I guess it wouldn't have been too bad if this chick I was talking to hadn't randomly thrown up on me, but whatever."

After a few moments of silence, he looked up at me, grinning. "You can laugh." He chuckled, and I did. A giggle at his expense and embarrassment.

"And that," He concluded, crossing his arms behind his head, "Is why I dislike the sun." He pushed the sunglasses further up his nose to prevent even a sliver of light from touching his eyes.

"You look like one of those rich kids." I joked, getting up from the slightly damp grass to go get another glass of lemonade. "Want anything?" I called back to him.

"Nope... Except maybe less insults." He grumbled.

I headed up the remainder of the lawn barefoot, before leaping up onto the concrete stoop, heading towards the sliding glass door on the back of the house. When I got inside, I could hear the vacuum running in the living room.

"Honey!" My Mom shouted over the rumble, "You've got mail! It's on the kitchen counter."

Curious, I went to investigate, abandonning my mission briefly to go find it.

Sure enough, on the kitchen island was a small, white, letter sized envelope. Curious and confused, I searched for a return address, but there was nothing other than the initials E.J. Halican.

My brow furrowing, I cut open the letter and fished out the crisply folded piece of floral stationary.

Hey, Asheen.

I hope this letter find you well, and excited! I cannot believe it's almost been nine years since we've seen each other, it seems crazy. I can't wait to catch up with you, it's been too long.

I'm really excited to hear our fathers will be working together. Hopefully we can see each other often. But I also hope, you're comfortable with the move out here. It was definitely tough on me when we moved from Pendant, but I've learned to love it here.

There is a million things I want to write, but by the time you get this, we could either be conversing already, or it'd be right before you leave, and I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to discuss them.

My Father mentioned you play music now. I'd love to hear you while you're here, we have a music room in our house. I don't play, but my brother Franky does. Oh yeah, did you know I have an older brother now? My Dad adopted him two years ago after meeting him at my school, learning that he was homeless, so really, we just took him in. He's a year older than me, and a world away in difference, too. I can't wait for you to meet him, though. He's really nice. :)

There are some shops nearby I'd like to show you, as well. Sorry for rambling a bit, I tend to get overly excited. Anyways, looking forward to seeing you soon!

- Eva

I'd had a small inquiry that it was from Eva, Mickey's daughter. That explained the intitials E.J. Halican. Eva Jane Halican.

I smiled and folded up the letter again. The letter had given me a conderable ammount of courage for the trip, but also stressed me slightly. But I was excited, in a way. To see her again, to visit family and to see the long, bright beaches. I struggled to get myself pumped up and excited, fixing my messed up mood while I finished out my mission, refilling my glass efore rejoining Andy out on the lawn.

"What took so long?"

"Letter." I replied.

"From who?" He asked curiously, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better look at me as I approached. "Eva. She's the daughter my my Dad's friend in California."

"That Mickey guy?"

"Yep." I sat down crosslegged beside him, looking at the dark woods that extended into an endless void where the lawn ended. "You know what we should do today?" I asked him, easily distracted and in a hurry to change the subject.

"What?"

I pointed at the woods, "It's been a long time since I hiked out there." I replied absently in a nonchalant tone.

"Is it even safe?" He tugged down his sunglasses a little to look at the woods, were a low rising mist of fog rolled about in the shadows of the trees, not yet evaporated by the sunlight.

"These days, anything you do isn't safe. You get attacked at a concert, in a car accident visiting your parents, or your dog gets hit by a car while you step out to get the morning paper. You've just got to know, and accept, life can end at any given moment, so you'd better make sure what you're doing as it happens is worth it."

"So... Like a 'spend more time loving, less time hating' type thing?"

"That's right." I looked fondly at the woods. "If I'm the author of my life, and I'm writing in pen, unable to erase my mistakes. I'm going to make sure my life was interesting and well lived. Not a manuscript of forgotten, stressed out thoughts. Making life the best it can be within the moment is what it's all about, right?"

He narrowed his eyes at me slightly. "Who are you and what have you done with Ash?"

"I'm being serious."

"So am I... I mean, just last night, you hated the world. Now?... You're acting all philosophical." He made a face. "Intellegiant people with their lives figured out disturb me."

"You desturb me." I replied sarcastically with a sigh. "I'm a teenager," I defended, stretching out my legs and crossing my ankles, looking at the yard thoughtfully. "I'm supposed to have mood swings that make me want to start World War III one minute, and join Yoko Ono and John Lennon's peace circle the next. It's just a phase, right?"

"Make love, not war." He quoted, with a suggestive wiggle of his brow. I shoved his shoulder, "No." He laughed it off and continued.

"I've found that anything in my life that was supposed to be a 'phase' hung on for dear life..." He sighed with a shake of his head, his expression distant for a moment. "That's why my parents let me have tattoos, piercings and sing in a grunge band. To them, it was just a phase. To me, it was my whole life, my future, and I loved it dearly, and did everything in my power to fit to the image." He stretched out his inked arms before him, stretching, and discreetly showing off his example.

"Anyhow, before I was even a teenager, I knew I was destined for music."

My brows pulled together in thought, "But you studied mechanics in California, right?"

He flashed a brilliant grin, pushing his sunglasses back up, high on the bridge of his nose. "That," He laughed, "Was just an experiment. Just a phase."

Notes

Who's heard the single Andy released today? It's called 'Stay Alive'. It's streaming here: http://www.teenvogue.com/story/andy-black-stay-alive-premiere

Chapter inspired by New World Coming by Benjamin Wallfisch & Disa

Shoutouts:

- anathema
- BVB_Rebel_Love_Song