Cliché (Andy Biersack)

You're Impossible

"Hey, Biersack. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"In the kitchen."

"Hey- oh, hello, Sophie," Ronnie Radke greeted me, though he looked surprised to see me.

"Hello, Ronnie," I smiled at him.

"Are you crying? Christ, man, what did you do to her?" He asked Andrew, looking worried.

"She's chopping up onions. That's why she's crying. I can't believe you would think that I'd hurt anyone," Andrew replied. He seemed a bit insulted by Ronnie's implication.

"The thought of you causing a girl to cry isn't that far fetched, and you know it." I pointed my knife at him.

"Careful with the knife there, Miss Williams," he warned me.

"What exactly did I interrupt?" Ronnie asked us suspiciously.

"We're making lunch, because someone basically kidnapped me and then forgot to feed me," I offered my explanation.

"I did not kidnap you. And you're a grown woman. You should've told me you were hungry." Andrew countered.

"So, if I understand correctly, I interrupted a date?" Ronnie asked again.

"NO!" We both said at the same time.

"Alright, alright. Not a date. Jeez."

"Why did you interrupt our non-date, by the way?" Andrew asked his friend.

"I needed your advice on something. I can come back later though."

"Nonsense, Williams signed an NDA when she started working at her company, so she's not really allowed to talk to anyone about anything we tell her, are you?"

"That's not how it works, Andrew. However, if you're comfortable sharing your issues with me, I promise not to tell anyone. Not even Sam."

"I guess two heads are better than one," Ronnie said after careful consideration.

"Out with it, Radke," Andrew said.

"How do I know if someone likes me for me and not for my fame?" He asked, shoulders slumped.

"You don't. That's how they get you," Andrew said menacingly.

"Great."

"Oh, don't listen to him. He just doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body. Do you and this person only talk about your work?" I asked, shushing the taller of the two men.

"Well, not at all actually. I've asked her more about her line of work than vice versa. And we've mostly talked about travelling, and childhood memories. Oh, and our future plans."

"What does it feel like when you talk to her? Is it forced? Does she seem to be trying too hard?" I asked.

"Not at all. It feels comfortable. It feels like I've known her all my life. She sort of feels like home. Don't laugh at me, Biersack. I should've known you weren't the right person to talk to about this."

"Wait, Ronnie. Andrew will behave, won't you?" I asked him and he nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"I think one date wouldn't hurt, even if she only wanted you for your fame. However, I doubt that that's what she's after. Especially, if this is Sam we're talking about. Oh, don't look so surprised, I have eyes. Anyway, I've known her my entire life, and I can tell you that she doesn't have a single manipulative cell in her body. Sure, she's been your fan since the beginning of your career, but the fact that you've been mostly talking about other, deeper, stuff, means that she's interested in you; not your fame," I told him.