He stood above me, facial expression caring but yet imposing. I immediately bristled, hairs on the back of my neck standing up and on end. I looked down, our eyes no longer met.

"Are you alright?" He asked yet again, one of his eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I said, wiping my eye and sitting up against the wall. Andy took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling deeply and then looking back down at me. His eyes changed, and I saw pity in them. I didn't want anybody's pity, though, no matter how hot or famous they were. But he was pretty hot. Since the opening bands were still playing, he wasn't quite ready for the show. His black hair was teased and he wore his performing clothes, but no war paint has been applied. It reminded me of mine, which had probably been smeared.

I started to get up, and I stood. I had to look up to meet his eyes. "Are you sure?" He asked. "It's okay, I know what its like." He said, staring, once again, down at my wrists, but I didn't hide them this time. The red marks of cuts burned bright as fire in my vision, and my eyes misted over in embarrassment. "You do?" I asked, voice shaking again, tears accumulating in the corners of my eyes. I must look like the most pathetic thing on the planet.

He flung his cigarette away, reached out, stepped close, and pulled me to him. Andy surprised me, but I didn't pull away, even though he could secretly be a rapist or something. I cried into his leather clad shoulder, my body wracking with sobs. "Yes, I do," He said, clutching me. I didn't get why he hugged me so hard. He exhaled, and his breath shook. Maybe I reminded him of himself. It was almost comical. Me, hugging my favorite singer in the world.

He pulled away first, and his eyes were serious and grounded now. "Here," He said, pulling a black marker out of his pocket. "It's for signing things," he mumbled, uncapping it with a click! and pulling my right arm over, and writing on it. "You can't show this to anybody," He said, his voice gravely serious. When he finished, I pulled my arm back and looked. On it was an email address. His email address.

"Thank you," I said, and scratched my other arm awkwardly.

He started to walk away, but turned back. "You should stop," he said, taking my razor out of my hand. "It's unhealthy." Before I could say anything, he threw it away, quite far, in the direction opposite the street. He gave me a quick nod, and walked out of the alley.

I waited outside the entrance to the building, after the concert. Lizzie walked out, in a crowd of others, looking upset and exhausted. I started over to her, and as soon as she saw me, a splash of relief washed down her face. She pulled me into a tight hug.

"I was so fucking worried!" She said, grasping me tightly.

"Can't breathe here," I said, voice strained.

"Sorry," she said, pulling away. She grabbed my hand and went in the parking lot towards the car. As we walked, I turned my head. I saw the alleyway, where just hours before, I hugged my hero. And then I remembered. I had his email on my arm. Andy Biersack's email on my arm!

We got in the car, and buckled our seatbelts. She started talking, and I said incoherent responces. Apparently the concert was pretty good, and she was sad I missed it.

Before I knew it, we were back at my house. We said our goodbyes, and I went inside. I went up to my room slowly, careful not to wake my dad. Pulling out my laptop, in my room, I went on my email. I sent Andy a message, not really knowing if he'd care or not

'Hey. I made it home safe. Thank you for talking to me when I needed somebody. You don't understand how much I appriciate it. I didn't tell anybody this email, and I won't tell anyone in the future. Thanks again. Bye.'

I hit send, hating how awkward it sounded. Andy must have checked his email on his phone, because after toying around on a second tab, I saw that he respnded. I, for some reason, felt giddy when I opened it.

'Good, glad to hear that you're safe. And you're welcome. Send me a message whenever you need to, okay? I'll be here. Alright. Bye.'

I smiled. At least I had somebody, and that somebody actually understood. And he was insanely hot and famous and talented. No big deal, right?

I got into bed, laying my head on my pillow. I was really tired, so as soon as I shut my eyes I started to sleep.

And it was the first night in months I slept with a smile on my face instead of slowly-drying tears.

I am so sorry about the update time! It took me quite a while to get this one. But thank you to all those who are still reading! :)!