Hearts of Gray (Andy Biersack Love Story)

Chapter One: Welcome to Cincinatti

As I stepped off the plane, I searched the airport with my eyes. I'd been the last thing shipped here from our old home in Wales. All the furniture and clothes had been moved transported out here, I was the last one, coming with just a carry-on. Mother and Father were here, in America, more specifically Ohio, already.

As I found my mum, she trudged towards me. As she pulled me into an embrace, she said, "You'll absolutely love it here in America. It's so much warmer here than it was in Wales."

"I imagine it'll rain less frequently," I sighed as I tugged my bag back up onto my shoulder. "Where's Dad?"

"Already at the house. He's dealing with the people helping to move us in," she answered, sliding an arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards the exit. "It's a grand Victorian-style house. We're giving you the entire third floor, if you wish to take it."

I nodded. "Sure. Sounds wonderful."

She smiled at me, causing her laugh lines to show. My mum was so beautiful. She had green-gray cloudy eyes, and a mound of long, beautiful, golden-blonde hair that flowed down to her waist. She wasn't very tall, standing at five foot five. She made up for it by having a powerful voice, though, and the way she projected herself.

"Maybe you can go meet some of the neighborhood children after you unpack," she said.

"Mum," I groaned. "I'm not a child for bloody sake."

"Oh yes, I forgot. Maybe you can meet some of the new neighborhood young ladies," she said with a note of sarcasm.

I rolled my eyes. "At least it's better than being called a child."

She sighed. "Grace, you're sixteen years old, turning seventeen next month. Technically, you're still a child."

I sighed again. "Yes, Mum."

We exited the airport into the hot sun of Ohio and walked to the new car. Throwing my pack into the backseat, I climbed into the front and we drove to our new house.

I didn't like Cincinatti very much yet. It might've just been America in general. They all drove on the wrong side of the bloody street! And it was hotter than hell's demons out here! How in the world was I supposed to live in an bloody terrible place like this?

As we pulled into the driveway of our new home, I sighed again. The building looked ancient and like it would fall at any moment. I got out of the car before Mum put it in the garage, then I made my way past the moving people and into the house.

Coming in the front door, I could see the floor was made of dark cherry wood planks until you got to the kitchen. Then it turned into a musty old tile, which would be replaced, as shown by the people removing it. The kitchen appliances were in boxes just outside the doorway.

I made my way up to the second level. There was a long hallway filled with doors. One opened to a study, which would be used by my father. Another opened to a spare bedroom. Another opened to the master suite, which would be used by my parents. Another opened up to the bathroom. The final door on the right, if opened, revealed a staircase to the top level. I walked up.

I gasped as I saw what would be my room. It was already furnished. My chest, my bed, my cabinets, my vanity mirror. The walls were made of white oak and were chipping a bit, but posters of my favourite bands hung everywhere, covering them. The Misfits, Motley Crue, My Chemical Romance, Green Day, Alkaline Trio. They were all there. The comforter on my bed was changed from the lavender I'd had before to a deep, velvet red and black sheets underneath. My chest and cabinets and vanity mirror were made of the same dark wood as the bed. I turned on the light and found that the entire room had been strung in the high creases of the ceilings with white Christmas lights, twinkling this way and that. I walked in a little further to see a walk-in closet and bathroom all to myself.