The World Will Stain Us

Wretched and Divine

"No, no, no―Dad, stop," Andy laughed. "That's not―"

"Not what?" Chris Biersack laughed, his voice crackling slightly through the phone speaker.

"That's a myth," Andy grinned. "Which is what I've been trying to tell you for the last five minutes."

"So you can see your reflection?" Chris asked.

Andy laughed. "Yes. It became a myth that we couldn't in the 1930s, when mirrors switched from being backed with silver―which is detrimental to us―to being backed with aluminum. Jake has never let Jinxx live down the story he told of the first time he saw his reflection since his turning―he told us he saw his reflection in the mirror of a store he'd entered and jumped so much he made the pair of human women closest to him shriek and run away."

Chris chuckled, his lined face alight with the joy of having his son back. "Sounds like he had quite the shock."

"Like I said, Jake's never let him live it down," Andy laughed. "But anyway―yes, I can see myself in the mirror, it's how I do my makeup."

Chris looked briefly surprised. "You still do your makeup?"

Andy nodded. "It's kind of a big part of the band's image. Besides, I've never stopped loving it―not since Mom first taught me."

Chris smiled, a little sadly. "It's a nice way to honor her."

Andy considered that. "Yeah, I guess it is." He fell silent, remembering that day―he'd been a teenager, interested in the stage makeup some of his favorite bands wore, and his mother had taught him how to apply some of the simpler aspects when he'd brought it up.

"You think she knew?" he asked. "That I'd be doing this someday?"

Chris adopted a look of thoughtfulness. "She was your mother," he said finally. "I think a part of her always knew everything when it came to you." He smiled faintly. "Maybe that's why she never gave up on you."

Andy smiled. He liked that thought.

"So when do you go on tour?" Chris asked, effectively changing the subject.

"Like...the fourth or something, I think," Andy said. "The album comes out a few days after we start tour, on the eighth―we can't really play a Church of the Wild Ones tour without being able to, you know, play the Wild Ones songs."

"And you're going...?"

"Everywhere," Andy said. "We're doing most of the States, touring the UK on Kerrang!, doing a Wild Ones leg in the EU, then doing Warped, and touring the EU and a few other places on the Monster Outbreak tour at the end of the year."

His dad whistled. "Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you."

Andy nodded. "We'll be okay, though. We'll have hotel stays periodically, and it's not like we're about to get sick of each other." At least he hoped they wouldn't―living in close quarters on a tour bus was bound to get a little uncomfortable after a while, but these were Andy's boyfriends they were talking about; he wasn't sure it was possible for them to get sick of each other.

Chris smiled at him through the screen. "That's good. Well, I've got to let you go, I've got a couple of old friends coming over to watch the game tonight."

Andy grinned. "I might force my boyfriends to sit through it, too. It's been a while since I've subjected them to a football game."

Chris laughed. "I love you, Andy."

"I love you too, Dad," Andy replied, feeling lighter than he'd thought possible at saying those words. A moment later, he was faced with a black camera screen as the video call beeped to an end.