A/N: Ann is back and ready to actually write a full fic and FINISH it. Yes this is based on Andrew/Konstantine and maybe a few cameo parts from our favorite emo boys.
Disclaimer: I don't own the song Konstantine. I don't own Andrew unless he's in my bed which happens a lot. I don't own Something Corporate legally wise, but a few voodoo dolls fix the mentally part.
Dedications:
To Ashley for writing FSM and making me an emo whore and of course, inspiring me for writing this. If I ever write nearly as good as you, I'd die happy.
To Julia for not only coming up for the title of this, but for always giving me the honest truth.
Be a cool whore and you'll end up in my dedications.
Long Sets for Konstantine
Chapter 1: Konstantine
They screamed. They cheered, sing along with the songs. They yelled his name and called him sexy and hot.
He loved this.
The adrenaline went through his body as the song finished and the crowd went wild, screaming for the songs he'd written. Songs that held so much of him in them; of his life and the past that seemingly linked him to the fans. Almost like a journal he had to read every night. Or a flipbook of his life. How ironic. Flipbook. He had just made one the other day of an emo cow singing Jimmy Eat World in a pasture. Whatever. He shook his head. He was so fucked up.
It wasn't pleasant being reminded every night of the past while he played the same songs on stage again and again, but the fans made it worth it. And playing them almost made it seem like what it was. Just a song. Held no meaning, right? Because songs were just songs. Maybe.
He laughed to himself hearing the girls scream his name like he was some god. Fuck, maybe he was even invincible because he felt it. This was so different then how he thought it was going to turn out. His life. He felt like a stranger looking in, slightly envious and in awe of this man that almost had it all. But what was shown on the surface is never what it seems. He learned that the hard way.
The lights dimmed down until they only focused on him. Again, the same thoughts processed through his head that nagged him every night. He was the main attraction. How did that make him feel? This band spent so many years together but somehow, it always boiled down to him. Andrew McMann. Musical genius. If only the world knew he wasn't a genius. Just a pathetic emo kid trying to make his way through the world.
His dreams had come true, right? He was sitting here, performing and writing songs like he always dreamed of doing. Damn. All his life it had always felt so good to be on stage and let all his emotions and frustrations out by just pounding on the piano, song after song and singing until he thought he was going to collapse. That was life, right? Finding one thing that makes you who you are. And that was what he had become. A musician. Then what was missing?
He knew the answer, but asking the question made it seem like he didn't. Ignoring made things better, less painful and maybe if he worked hard enough 24/7, he'll forget. At least, that's what he kept repeating to himself over and over.
Clearing his throat, he waited until the crowd settled down before he spoke.
"This is the last song we'll be playing tonight. Really, this is about a girl I once thought I knew. A girl I wish I could just forget. This is for everyone out there. You keep this song alive." Andrew said softly.
What a lie. Memories of her every night was enough to keep the song alive in his mind. He just wanted to get this song over with.
And with that, he started playing the opening chords to a song he wish he could tuck somewhere dark and unknown and for the first time tonight, he didn't feel better. The adrenaline left him as nostalgia took its place. No, not nostalgia but bitterness at the girl the song was about. Slowly his hands glided over the familiar chords. Over and over. The same notes each night that reminded him of her. Damn her and her ability to always sneak back into people's lives without really being there. And taking a deep breath hoping he would be able to last through all 9 1/2 minutes, he started into the song. The notes that made him famous. The song that made him a god. Oh god, How ironic. The girl who destroyed him built the road to his success. What a bitch. Always trying to sneak back into his life.
B flat. B. E. Over and over, the repetition going so well with the girl the song was written. Konstantine. That bitch.
He hated her.
I can't imagine all the people that you know
"More like men that you've fucked." Andrew angrily thought. Without realizing it, he was pounding on the piano. Furious.
Andrew. Andrew. Andrew. His name being screamed by 16 year old girls made him smile. And forget for a second as he lost himself into the mechanics of performing, this song became just a song rather than a poem of heartbreak. His first heartbreak.
As he neared toward the crescendo and the climax of it, he turned his head and smiled at the girls to his left side gazing at him adoringly.
One girl screamed that she loved him. Doesn't everyone these days? Girls hung off his arm and words like the way sweat hangs onto to you. Clinging to your body and never leaving. He was a rockstar and was suppose to appreciate groupies and all the available sex from these whores. But he wanted none of that. He just wanted Konstantine.
Andrew closed him eyes and nearly chocked on the next words with emotion. His fingers automatically moved and all he could feel was his heart beating so fast. About to explode with memories of her.
Did you know I miss you?
God he missed her. So much. The way her long blonde hair always swayed along with her hips when she walked. Her gorgeous face and bright blue eyes laughing at him when he made a fool of himself. He hated her so much, but he still loved her. Oh, how he loved her.
Oh God I miss you
The song was almost over. Usually it didn't get to him like this, but today was the same day so many years ago when she broke his heart. She was a heartbreaker and he was just a naive kid, thinking his love would be enough for the both of them. But love was never enough to tie someone like that down, especially to someone that was too much of a wishful thinker for a realist like her. He assumed all bitches were realists.
You'll miss me in your living room
Did she? Or was that some passing fantasy that held on by hopelessness? Just a few more lines. He could get through it. He rushed the song up just a bit. A little bit never hurt anyone.
Because we all need a little more room to live
Oh god, what a joke. We? More like just her. Just Konstantine. That was the way she wanted it.
"Andrew..." She had said softly, her hands twisting nervously as her head slowly nodded to Jimmy Eat World playing in the background.
"I uh... You're leaving soon. I just think I need room to breathe again. We all need a little more room to live."
She had the nerve to do that even after he forgave her.
Bitch.
My Konstantine
She wasn't his Konstantine anymore. She was someone else's. Probably across So cal she had been my Konstantine's to 50 guys.
He played the last chord like it was a great finale. In a way, it was. The trip back to another time was over. Andrew sighed, suddenly so tired. He just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep away the memories that kept haunting him.
This song represented everything. Him. Her. Jimmy Eat World. Those nights. Long sets. Everything was for her. Maybe she knew but just didn't care. When did she ever care about anything other than herself?
The crowd went crazy, screaming and jumping up and down as Ross played a few random tidbits on the drums. Wilgene strumming the guitar erractically. So repetitive every night, but he loved it. This made his life so worth living. And he stood up from the bench and jumped onto his piano, playing the keys with his shoes.
Andrew reached for the microphone and fell off the piano onto the floor all awkward. They laughed at him thinking it was all a joke. His shoulder hurt like fuck though. He really needed to stop falling off the piano. Maybe he'd take up ballet in his spare time or something to help improve his gracefulness. He was still too awkward.
"Good night Fresco!" he screamed into the microphone.
He got a few laughs from the girls and boos from the guys. Fuck them.
"OMG ANDREW! You are like so hawt!!!!"
He almost wanted to roll his eyes, but instead he smiled. He was doing a lot of those tonight. Smiling when he felt like doing something else. Perhaps smashing his own head onto the ground or in this case, smashing the bimbo's head. He wondered if she was even there for the music. Judging from the ample cleavage showing, probably not. Just wanted a good roll in the hay with Andrew, a "rockstar!!!", to brag to her other whore friends.
Fucking whores. He'd settled for an emo whore but not the slutty ho kind of whore.
As he stood for another picture with a group of 13 year old girls, his mind kept reminding him that Konstantine lived in Fresco. Why did he care? He bet she didn't.
Then again, she was a cold hard bitch.
"OH MY GOSH ANDREW!! YOU ARE SO HOT!! LETS TAKE A QUICK ROLL IN THE HAY!!"
Oh god. Not again. Please god please. Usually he could stand it, but not on a night like this.
He turned and caught sight of a girl. She looked around 18, dewy and fresh the way untouched girls are, and it was apparent sarcasm was fresh on her lips as her eyes laughed at him. She looked vaguely familiar.
"Have I seen you before?" Andrew asked her. The amusement on her face was too much for him. He threw back his head and laughed, feeling better for the first time since playing Konstantine.
The girl just shook her head before she giggled. He never liked it when girls giggled, but she made it sound magical. It was rough and smooth at the same time, yet still stayed feminine. He was entranced.
Maybe he could invite her into his bed tonight. He hadn't had a good lay in a while.
"So what's your name?"
The girl shifted from foot to foot, her pink converse shoes peaking underneath her long frayed jeans. She lost her cool then, hesitating.
"Krystal."
Fuck. Now he remembered where he'd seen her before. She was Konstantine's cousin. Their family had an obsession with K's.
And if she was there, then that must mean...
"Krystal! We gotta go."
Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He could recognize that voice anywhere. Konstantine. It set his heart pounding and he could barely breathe. Krystal shot him a sympathetic look and gave him a quick hug.
"It was my idea to go..." she whispered into his ear.
He was stunned. Krystal had the nerve to cover up for his cousin. He knew Konstantine well enough to know she was a bitch with the nerves to do anything. Even show her face at his show.
He wanted to die. But instead, he walked away quickly from the spot, aware that all the girls were staring at him like he was omnipotent. He didn't want to be a god right now. Just invisible. He hoped Konstantine didn't see him.
"Andrew!" Wilgene yelled.
He didn't feel like talking to his bandmates right now either. They'd just nod sympathetically without ever understanding. He wrote all the fucking songs anyways.
"Ya man?" He said, just to be polite. His eyes shifted around to the girls staring adoringly at both of them like they wanted to eat them up. And then, he saw her. Well, not exactly all of her but her long blonde hair swaying behind her back with her hips dancing in the same sync, singing the same words over and over.
I'm heaven sent
Don't you dare forget
Even her hair was too arrogant for him. Everything about her was too good for someone like him. Too beautiful and bold. He didn't deserve her, even if she was cold.
"Will, I'll be right back, kay?"
He dashed towards the blonde light staring straight at him without thinking anything than he wanted to see her. Just one last time. He just wanted closure. This was for the best. He was lying to himself, but that was okay.
Running out of the venue, he ran towards the parking lot but she was gone. He had lost her. Most likely he'd lost to her in Konstantine's sick games. Again.