The Brightest Star In All The Glory [Andy Biersack Story]

Chapter 1 (A Flashback Chapter)

It was a cold and gloomy day in autumn in the state of Ohio. Snow gently fell out of the gray clouds and I clutched my hoodie closer to my body with one hand, the other carrying my case that held my bass guitar.

I heard the sound of the leaves rustling from the harsh gusts of wind that bit through my skinny jeans and thick hoodie. My bangs were blown out of my face, but luckily I wore a cute beanie so they weren't too messed up.

After about ten minutes of walking in the cold, I reached my destination. The home of Andrew Biersack, my best friend.

I hesitated slightly before knocking on the door. In the end, I softly tapped the door and waited patiently on the steps for it to open. When it did, it was Andrew's mom, Amy, who answered it. She flashed me a warm smile and invited me in. I obliged, politely.

"Hello Heather," she greeted.

"Hi, Mrs. Biersack!" I chirped, smiling back as well.

"Are you here to practice with Andy?" she asked, glancing at my bass case.

I nodded and said, "Yup. The others as well." Others being our  buddies who played with us. I was the female vocalist of our little play band. I played the bass as well.

Mrs. Biersack's smile faltered and she stared at me in the slightest appearance of dismay.

"Is there something wrong, Mrs. Biersack?" I asked, concern filling my voice.

"The thing is," she began sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. I could guess where this was going. It sounded pretty band already, just from hearing the tone of her voice and her physical movements and facial expressions. Something wasn't right. At least, it wasn't for me.

"Andy left with the others to form an actual band that would get noticed. They finally decided to get serious. It breaks my heart to know that they left you out, hun. Andrew is at one of their houses at the moment," Mrs. Biersack continued.

The instant she said the word left, my smile vanished from my face completely, replaced by a look of sorrow. I knew that it was going to run downhill in this direction. How could Andy form a band and leave? Without me? I was an extremely talented musician. And he knew it.

"Oh," I simply stated, a wave of disappointment rushing over me.

"I'm sorry Heather," said Mrs. Biersack.

I shook my head and began to protest. "No, it's alright. It really is."

My hand automatically went up to my face to fix my bangs, but really, I was wiping the tears from my eyes that were threatening to spill down my cheek.

Betrayed, I began to open the door and leave. I looked back at Andy's mom and waved goodbye. Turning around once more, I took my leave. The last sound I heard, besides the rush of the wind, was the sound of the door softly clicking as it closed.

I clutched the handle to my bass guitar case tighter and trudged back to my house.

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I slammed my house door shut as I walked inside. Angry tears streamed down my face as I stomped upstairs and made my way to my room. Slamming my room door shut as well, I jumped face-first into my large bed. Burying my face in my black pillow, I let out all of my hurt and anger in forms of screaming.

My fits of screaming subsided once I heard a loud banging at my door, nearly loud enough to drown out my screams.

"Come in!" I yelled angrily.

My brother, Trevor, who was three years older than me and two years older than Andy, walked inside of my room, softly shutting the door.

"Why the fuck were you screaming, Heather?" Trevor demanded. He breathed hard and his bangs flew out of his eyes, revealing the deep-green color.

My brother was the brother of any kid's dreams. Especially for a kid who was fourteen years of age.

"Andy," I hissed, "made his own band and went off with the other guys we hang out with. I don't understand why he would leave me behind. He didn't tell me anything. If he did, maybe I wouldn't be as pissed as I am now. Everyone knows that I'm an amazing musician. Why would he leave me?"

Trevor looked at me, anger and sympathy burning in his eyes. "The answers for those questions lie within Andy alone, Heather. Confront him and talk to him about it. Sitting in your room and crying about it won't help you with anything."

That's what I liked about my brother. He simply told the truth, no matter how much it hurt. I did the exact same thing as well.

Hugging him, I told him thanks and he departed from my room. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and texted Andrew.

Thirty minutes passed and there was still no reply. Soon, two hours flew by. Still nothing. Eventually, I grew tired of waited and ended up falling asleep on the floor.