these darkened stars {andy biersack}

chapter one

andy biersack/age 25

andy never quite knew why he never got tired of driving, even when he's been going to some of the same places the past two years. it was like this pull-this pure instinct that had him itching for his keys whenever he had stopped for more than a few days. it was his comfort, his happy place.

it was also the only thing he had known for years.

there was nothing else. there was no stable job (though, the money that his parents left him had been enough to keep him going when he ditched temporary jobs), no house, no friends, no family. there was nobody else, nothing else, but him and the open road.

sometimes, it saddened him—to have no one kicking their feet up on the dash in the passenger seat, talking about their days and where they would go next. sometimes, he'd lay under the broad night sky and wonder about all of the things he could be missing out on. he might've settled down by now, finished college and started down a good career path. a cat or two, and a relationship as well. a normal life. a healthy life.

sometimes, that was what he wanted. but he loved the road, and he wouldn't give up the only life he had ever really known and loved.

"hello—uh, can i get a large cup of fried rice, and instead of a fork can i please have a spoon? and then i'll take a large lemonade, thank you," andy leaned out of the truck window, speaking loudly so that the drive thru worker could hear him.

"is that all for you tonight?" the feminine voice replied with a definitely too-chipper tone for almost four in the morning.

"well," he paused, overlooking the menu. "does it come with just one fortune cookie or can i add more?"

"it comes with one but if you want, you can add more for 50 cents each."

"oh," he nodded," okay, well, can i add five-actually six more fortune cookies to that, please?"

"sure thing!" the worker responded, and the first thought that occurred to andy was how did this person manage say it so relaxed like this is an often occurrence instead of a weird ass order from a tattooed man with the darkest dark circles at an outrageous time of day?

"thank you, that'll be all."

the worker told him his total and then he proceeded to pull up to the drive thru window where he saw the person vanish into the kitchen. he tapped along to the song playing on the radio against the side of the truck, not in an impatient way but rather a relaxed, carefree way. here in the city, the air smelled so much of gas and pollution that it made his nose wrinkle in distaste. he longed to inhale the fresh, crisp scent of the forest where he often stayed, taking long walks and nearly getting lost in the process. he missed being able to see so many of the stars where the air was nearly free of human pollution. but alas, that would not happen tonight (or rather, today). he would be settling into some old motel room after he ate his late, late dinner.

once he laid on received his order, he got back on the main road and searched for any motel that was still open this late. preferably one that didn't have bed bugs (his encounters with them have never, ever been pleasant, and it happened too often), but he would end up taking what he could get.

soon, he saw a lit sign for the motel 7 that had the word 'vacancy' underneath it and turned into the parking lot, repeatedly hoping for the best. all he took inside with him was his usual overnight bag, which was a worn gray backpack with nothing in it but a toothbrush and fresh clothes. usually, if he was lucky enough to book a hotel room he would bring his other bags in and do laundry, but it seemed like he was out of luck tonight. better luck in a few days' time.

the lobby of the motel 7 wasn't dirty, per sat, but it had a very old, musky scent to it that nearly suffocated him as soon as he walked in. andy swore under his breath but kept walking to the counter where an older man sat, looking as if he'd fall asleep in his chair any minute.

"excuse me, do you still have a vacancy?" he asked, drumming his fingers lightly on the white wooden counter as he waited for a reply.

"yeah," the man grumbled, sitting up to grab his computer mouse, "name?"

a few minutes later and he was checked in, holding a set of room keys although there was only one of him. it took him a couple more minutes of vague confusion to find his room. when he finally unlocked the door, he went straight to the bed to check for bugs. after scouring the mattress and sheets over and over, he decided with a relieved sigh that he was safe this time.

it wasn't until almost six am that he settled down enough to sleep, curling up into the lonely white sheets.

walls. dull, egg white walls, barren save for scattered picture frames and directional signs.

he swung his small legs back and forth in the chair, too big for his still childish frame. they had been there for hours now, barely moving an inch. the halls were quiet as per usual, but his small mind was chaotic, repeating what is happening what is happening what is

tick. tock. tick tock.

tap. tap. tap. tap.

andy almost didn't notice when the woman approached them, but the woman that was beside him took his hand and tugged on it for him to stand up. it had been a tense few hours.

he expected the hand to be wrinkled and calloused, but instead he was met with smooth, soft skin and that was when he realized that something was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to turn his head.

"are they okay?" the all-too-familiar female asked anxiously, knowing that words had failed me. my hope followed them out of the room and faded into the night like smoke.

it was the doctor in front of him he was focused on. he stood still, feeling too out of place in the small body he had long since outgrown.

the lady was still dressed in surgical clothing, fresh out of the operating room. with a somber expression he knew way too well, she shook her head. cries erupted from andy's mouth and his knees buckled with a smack against the floor. the pain stung, but it was nothing compared to the heart that broke in his tiny chest.

he felt a hand on his shoulder, the shaking, old hand that he expected in the first place. another one, bigger and stronger, was placed on his other one. he felt the presence of all three people he had lost surround him like it was a knife rotating itself into his chest endlessly, and he felt his parents' dying all over agin. this was misery, and it followed him around like a fraud of a shadow.