The Mortician's Daughter™ ♥ Andy "Six" Biersack

The Mortician's Daughter ♥ Andy "Six" Biersack {Chapter 2}

The Mortician's Daughter ♥ Andy Biersack 

Chapter 2

"Hello?" I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I teased the back of my hair.

"Want to do something tonight?" Peter asked.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. I scored that interview. Tonight." How had I forgotten to tell him? Maybe because we never really talked about anything important anymore. Except journalism, but even then, he was always off far away doing something for said journalism, so I hardly ever saw him anymore.

"Why at night?" he asked. "Why couldn't it have been earlier today?"

"Because the guy I'm interviewing's band has a concert and he wanted the interview afterwards. He's semi-famous, so I couldn't complain. I just took what I got."

"He is not just semi-famous," Sabrina said from beside me, "he is drop dead gorgeous, sexy, hot, beautiful--"

"Says you," I said.

"I'm gonna rape him," she said. "When we go backstage for the interview and he pulls us to the side I am going to make love to that man."

"At least wait till I'm done interviewing him. And could you please not talk about another human being like that. 'Rape' is not a word to use lightly." Sabrina rolled her eyes at me.

"What?" Peter said.

"Nothing, hun. I was talking to Sabrina." Sabrina tapped the top of her wrist in a time gesture. "I gotta go. I'll call you. Love you!"

"Love you, too."

I hung up and gathered my journals, camera, bag, and dumped a few extra pens in there. "Okay. Let's go."

"Now, word of advice. Don't say anything about the whole your dad is a mortician thing."

"Why not?"

"You were wondering why he acted so weird when you said something. His ex-girlfriend's dad is a mortician."

"Oh." I kept my eyes on the road.

"Yeah. He wrote 'The Mortician's Daughter' for her. He loved her so much. He was going to marry her and everything. She's such a stupid hoe. He still loves her."

"That explains a lot," I said as I pulled into the concert hall parking lot. "But you can't possibly know what transpired between them."

"Transpired?" she shook her head. "You and your SAT vocab. I know enough. Oh gosh I can't believe this!" she practically squeed.

"They do live in Hollywood," I pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but now they're trying not to play quite as many shows so close to home."

"Whatever," I said. I slammed the door as loudly as I could.

Sabrina was jumping up and down until she realized it would ruin her hair. "Ah, dang it, I should've brought hairspray!"

"Hairspray at a concert, really?"

She was wearing a t-shirt with the whole band on it, and booty shorts that said Andy was here on the butt. She went around to the back of the car and pulled out a poster that said *Marry me, Andy!*

"Fangirl much?" I mumbled.

She ignored me and pulled out another poster. This one said *Marry me, Ashley!* And yet another one that said *Proud SandraSexual!*

"Sheesh."

"You got your backstage pass?"

"No," I said, holding the badge around my neck up, right in front of her face. "I left it in my locker yesterday," I said sardonically.