The Prophet And The Redeemer

Andy in the hospital

Andy layed in the stiff, uncomfortable hospital bed, dead...

Okay, he wasn't actually dead, but the singer felt like he was damn near close to it.

He had just gotten out of emergency surgery because his appendix decided to rupture, you know since Andy didn't have enough going on in his life.

He glared down at the IV in his hand as if that was the soul reason he was there before he sighed, dropping his head back against the pathetic excuse of a pillow and prayed to every god that he didn't even believe in to get him out of the hospital as soon as possible.

Tour was in a few weeks, he had to get better! He couldn't bare the thought of disappointing the fans by pushing the dates back to recover, but after the many injuries and illnesses that he didn't take proper care of in the name of going on with the show so to speak, and all the repercussions he's had to face physically and mentally from it, he knew better than to risk his health now.

It was a miracle that Andy even thought to go to the ER since his constant back and side pain from his nerve damage made the appendix rupturing inside of him feel like any other day.(to be fair, he probably could've not went to the mall while he was in agonizing pain, but when has he ever made good decisions?)

Andy had posted a quick tweet, and an Instagram post to let the fans know what was going on, and to his surprise, Jake replied to it.

@JakePittsBVB: 'damn dude, that's some serious stuff man, glad you're ok! Wishing you a speedy recovery.'

Andy snorted at it, a mirthful smile on his face as he replied to it with something very neat, polite, and friendly. None of which he felt.

"Ten years and all I get is a tweet." Andy whispered, tearing up as he thought about how strained his relationship with his bandmates was. He couldn't remember the last time they talked just to shoot the shit.

The last tour felt so... final. They all knew it was the end. Andy was so tired of pretending everything was fine, he was tired of the constant drama and abuse for the sake of the fans.

Andy couldn't do it anymore, and it broke his damn heart.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Andy glanced at it for a moment, watching as the person walked in without waiting for an answer, if it was anyone else, Andy would've been annoyed, but the familiar sight of the long black beard, and snap back made him smile slightly.

"How you feeling, bud?" Blasko asked the younger man with a warm smile.

"Like death warmed over." Andy replied with a sarcastic grin, drawing a snort from his agent.

"Well at least you still look great." Blasko joked as he sat down on the chair next to the bed. "The single is doing great so far, by the way."

Oh yeah, Andy put out a single for the Ghost of Ohio today.

At least something good was coming out of this fucking day.

"Yeah?" Andy asked instead, he was really proud of that song, it was almost a tribute of sorts to one of his heros, Bruce Springsteen sonically and the lyrics very personal to him, just like every other song on the record.

It still made him laugh when people called Westwood Road his most upbeat song when he released it.

"Oh yeah! People are loving it!" The bearded man beamed, making Andy smile genuinely.

"That's good, I was hoping they would." Andy said softly, picking at the blanket on top of him. He was a firm believer in putting things out you love and not being audacious enough to think that you know exactly what your audience like and what 'formula' works for them. As long as he was being true to himself and creating things he liked, the fans usually liked it too because it was authentic.