Addicted (Andy Biersack)

Chapter Two

"Okay, be good, honey. No boys. No parties. No booze. And please don't give Andy too much trouble," dad said while hugging me goodbye.

"Oh, my little bean, I'll miss you so much," mom hugged me too, tears welling in her eyes.

"Chill out, guys, this isn't mine and Andy's first rodeo. Have fun in Hawaii," I told them.

"Go on, or you'll miss your flight," Andy added.

They each hugged me one last time, and then they finally drove away.

"Finally," I chuckled, "I thought they'd never leave."

"You know how they are. I think Ronnie has a tough time going on vacation alone with your mom in general because he doesn't get to see you as often as he'd want to."

"Thanks for the words of wisdom. It's not my fault he's a world-famous musician. Speaking of which, how come you even have time to play babysitter's club? Don't you have a job and a tour to get back to?"

"I already told everyone back in December that I'd take this break," he told me.

"Okay," I said. "Would you like some coffee?" I asked him before going inside.

"Of course," he answered.

I went to our kitchen and put on the kettle. I took two of my favorite cups out of the cabinet above the kitchen sink. They both had Marilyn Manson on them.

I put two teaspoons of coffee in each cup and poured the boiling water over it. I added some milk into mine. Andy drank black coffee.

He was holding the door open for me when I reached the backyard.

"Why, thank you, kind sir."

"Any time, milady," he smiled down at me.

I know how much older he is but hotdamn.

"I was expecting these cups to make a comeback," he smiled. He was the one who gifted them to me back when I first started listening to Manson in freshman year.

"I'm back in my Manson phase," I admitted.

"I've actually met him," he told me.

"Really?" I was awestruck.

"Your dad has too."

"Holy shit. That's kinda awesome. What's he like?" I asked.

"He's really intelligent and kind of hilarious," he told me.

"I totally envy you," I said.

"Maybe you'll meet him too someday," he smiled.

"Do you want me to roll you one?" I asked him, changing the subject.

"You have got to stop flexing that skill, baby Summers."

"It was a yes or no question, Grandpa Biersack," I said.

"There is absolutely no doubt about who your parents are. It's fascinating. I can do it myself, thank you, though," he chuckled.

"Why have you always called me baby Summers and never baby Radke, by the way?" I asked him.

"Uh, I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you. How much do you know about your parents' love story?" He asked me.

"You mean how at first mom didn't want to tell dad about me and all that crap?" I asked.

"Yes, Josie, all that crap. So basically, because we all thought that your stubborn mom would never tell your dad about you being his, I was pretty sure that you'd only have her last name, so I started calling you baby Summers. The origin isn't even worth mentioning. It just caught on."