Going out with a celebrity (no pun intended) was a little bit like being a fish in an aquarium. People passed by, stared at you, and occasionally took pictures without your permission.
Andy didn't seem to mind the photography. He wasn't even wearing sunglasses, but it was dark outside, so you guessed the lack of them made sense...
"You okay?" Andy reached out, putting his hand on yours.
You nodded, picking at your Chipotle. You both decided halfway to the sushi place that the Subway of Mexican food sounded more appetizing than raw fish.
"Don't seem okay..." Andy muttered, momentarily taking his hand away to hold his burrito with both hands and take a bite.
"It's just..." You thought for a moment, wondering if you two were actually going out. Did this make you two official, being out in public like this? Him holding your hand from across the table?
Shit you COMPLETELY forgot to text your best friend and tell her the good news!
"Sorry, hold on." You retrieved your phone, quickly beginning to type out a message.
DUDE! You'll never guess what happened! Andy and I are like kind of a thing now?? He kissed me and we've been kissing and now we're dining in public, yo! Totes reply when
"—you get this message," Andy read aloud. He'd sneaked to sit beside you—and now he was reading your super secret text!
"Hey!" You held him at arms length as he gently smirked, that smile blooming into a grin.
"What? I can't help but read what people think about me," he replied.
"It's secret!" You cradled your phone against your chest, pouting as he threw his head back in laughter.
"Alright, alright." His hand extended out to you, as he settled back against his seat across from you. Pinkie finger extended. "I won't snoop anymore. Promise."
With a wary look, you reached out, hooking your pinkie with his. His finger hugged yours, and for once you actually felt like he'd hold up his side of the bargain.

---

It was late when your phone buzzed.
You rolled over, picking it up from the nightstand and squinting past the brightness of the screen.
Shit—
You nearly dropped your phone, seeing the number.
Your ex.
Shit. He hadn't texted you in, what, four months?
"Andy..."
"Hm?" Andy looked up from his phone, the light shining and illuminating his worried features. "Yeah, what's up?"
You motioned to the phone, one hand over your eyes. "My ex..."
"Tell him you're with Andy Biersack now," he said, unplugging your phone and gently dropping it on your chest. "Send him that selfie we took on the bus."
Actually not too bad of an idea. Good on you, Andy.
Without reading what had been sent, you began typing out a message that began with Hey bastard as Andy yawned, placing earphones in and watching some video on his phone.
"How's this sound?" you asked a few minutes later, and began to read what you'd typed. When you were done, you looked to Andy, his phone lighting up his face in the darkness.
"Sounds..." A malicious grin crossed his face. "Vengeful. I love it."
"Thanks, superstar."
"You're welcome, roadie."
"Roadie?" You gasped out, pressing send and cuddling against his chest. "I'm way more than some roadie."
"Considering you drove with your friend to get to your second Warped Tour for the year."
Damn. He had a point...
"Well, whatever." You rolled away, almost rolling off the bed before the sheets caught you. Your grin stayed on your face, as Andy scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Come back..." he whined.
"No!"
"Please?"
"No!"
Andy pouted, making puppy dog eyes before you laughed, retracing your rolls and ending up at his chest again. His arms wrapped around you, the rain lulling you both to sleep.

Notes