We'll Brave This Storm {Andy Biersack's Daughter}

2

We sat there in the waiting room at the little clinic. They took our blood and swabbed inside our mouths. I was tired of sitting there. Mrs. Terry was crocheting a blanket in her lap and Andrew was on his phone. I still had my phone, but I didn't have service. It was only good on WiFi and I didn't think to bring it.

"What happens if he's not my dad?" I asked.

"Then we continue the search. He is the only Andrew Biersack that was enrolled in the same high school as your mother. He even admitted to having a sexual relationship with your mother." Mrs. Terry said, never looking up from her crochet project.

Andrew looked up, "I don't know why she would even put my name down to begin with. We had a relationship, then she packed up and left without saying anything. She broke up with me over MySpace."

I couldn't help but laugh, "MySpace? You're so old."

He gave a chuckle, "That's uncalled for."

"Do you remember my mom?" I asked softly.

He gave a nod and tapped on his phone before turning it around to me. On the screen was a girl about my age with long blonde hair, stripes of blue and green, then sections that had black stripes. I could clearly tell it was my mom, though she had on so much black eyeliner and a few facial piercings. It was hard to believe. My mom dressed like this? "How long did you date?"

"Eight months. Her parents hated me. They were always on her about her looks and hated me with a passion because of how I dressed."

I didn't want to admit it, but from what I have heard from Mom and my grandparents, my grandparents hate Andrew. They always mention about how my father was no good for my mom and so on. I never knew what to think since I had never met him. Mom always defended him whenever she could. She always used to tell me that she wished he was the love of her life. She never showed me any pictures of him, saying my grandparents destroyed every picture she had of him, which I could totally see them doing. He slid over the bench to get closer to me, holding his phone up so I could see it. There was a picture of my mom looking how she did in the other picture along with what looked like a younger version of this guy.

"Stephanie and I were the ultimate couple in the day. Everyone at school wanted to be us or be like us and everyone on online wanted to be us. We used to do these YouTube videos, oh god they were so bad, I still have them on my YouTube channel, but I have them on private." Andrew said. He gave a laugh as he thought of the memories. I smiled, "I'd like to see them."

Andrew shook his head, "No. You can't. They're illegal."

"But they have my mom in them." I said, snapping slightly at him.

The doctor walked out of his office and stopped in front of us. He was a man around his fifties with short brown hair that was greying and brown eyes, "May I see you in my office?"

We nodded and started to get up. Mrs. Terry shoved everything into her bag quickly as she stood up. When we were in the office, the doctor shut the door and went to his desk. Terry and I sat in the chairs, Andrew kept standing. "Is he the father or not, Mr. Rivers?" Mrs. Terry asked.

Mr. Rivers nodded, "Yes, Andrew Biersack is the father of Ivy Taylor."

My heart stopped. He is my father. This weirdo is my father. I have a father. I mean, I knew I had a father since I'm here. I wouldn't exist if I didn't have one. I looked up at Andrew. He seemed frozen, just staring at me with his jaw sharp, a small section of his hair hanging in his right eye. It was relief that I felt. I finally know who my father is. I can finally know who my father is. He can be in my life. I wanted to run into his arms for that simple reason. But I was also torn. I had been told all my life by both my mother and my grandparents that my father wanted nothing to do with me. I wanted to hit him. Why didn't I mean anything to him? I don't know what's going on. What do I do?

I blinked a few times and then Andrew was pulling me into him, hugging me tightly. I was still in shock. My father was holding me. My father, my actual father, was holding me. He was really here with me.