Cliché (Andy Biersack)

What Grandchildren?

I decided to take advantage of my week off, so after I took care of all legal documentation concerning my new last name, I finally got to work on the altar pieces that have been awaiting restoration in my studio. I am ashamed to admit that I have kind of turned my back on that part of my résumé. Ever since I started working at my company, I've only really had time for paintings that came with that job. I haven't been taking any commissions from local churches, nor have I been doing my usual abstract art. However, around New Year, I finally contacted my ecclesiastical clients to see if they had any work for me. It's not like I needed it for financial reasons, because Wayne&Co. pays very nicely, but I missed restoring Christian art. I am not religious personally, but there has always been something about religious art and imagery that has intrigued me. That's why I decided on getting a certificate in art restoration.

So, as I was saying, I took advantage of the free time and finally started working on the three altar pieces in my studio. Two out of three weren't very badly damaged, so I finished those two first.

It was a Wednesday, full four days after our wedding. I am adding this detail for context. You'll thank me later. Anyway, I was enjoying my day, listening to the kind of music I like, doing the thing I love, you know, the usual, and just as I was about to start working on the third piece, my phone buzzed.

Biersnack: You gotta get over here😩😩
Me: I thought we agreed on meeting at 6? Is something wrong?
Biersnack: I am in a very dire situation. I need saving! 😱
Me: Why? What's wrong???
Biersnack: Your mom is here😢😢😢
Me: WHAT?
Biersnack: Exactly. Hurry up and save me, please 😬😬😬

What in God's name was my mom doing visiting Andy? Ugh, she's probably swooping in there like some sort of high-class mosquito, wanting to feed on Andy's fame. He was right, he was definitely in a very dire situation. And to be fair, my mom was in a dire situation, too. Andy didn't particularly like her, and I don't know if I trusted the two of them to be alone together.

I quickly washed all my brushes (sorry mom and Andy, but painting supplies are expensive and, more importantly, very precious to me), and then I grabbed my stuff and drove as fast as I legally could.

I hastily parked my car and after making sure that I locked it, I ran up the stairs inside Andy's apartment building. The door was unlocked and just as I walked inside his flat, I heard him saying: "You cannot possibly be serious."

"What did I interrupt?" I asked, nonchalantly leaning on one of the walls and subtly trying to catch my breath.

"Oh, hi, honey, your hubby and I were just talking about the beautiful disaster of a day your dad and I's wedding day was," my mom giggled.

"Ah, okay. I remember that story. Wasn't there a huge blizzard or something that day?" I asked, sitting down next to Andy on his couch.

"No, silly, not a blizzard... It was a mini tsunami. It got your grandma, and we only found her hours later."

"Did she die at your wedding?!" Andy asked, eyes wide in shock.

"What? No, no, Carl's mom was a tough woman. A regular sized tsunami would have been no match for her. No, the waves carried her body to the other side of the beach. At least we think that's what happened... Either way, she was lying unconscious on a beach towel 400 feet away from our wedding venue. She might have just gotten drunk and wandered off. Who knows? Anyway, tell me more about your special day!" She beckoned Andy to speak.

We have succeeded in putting at least some of the pieces of the whole wedding puzzle together in the past couple of days. So, when my mom asked Andy to tell her about our wedding, I shot him a look, hoping and pleading that he wouldn't tell her all of the details of what we had succeeded in remembering.