A/N: I swear I wasn't going to update until I was 100 percent finished with chapter3 and after I revised this like crazy because Julia doesn't like it. But I lied to myself and said it was for the best. lalala. Um yea, anyways I've been very busy. And the majority of the people that read this are my friends. That is quite sad. Thank you for reviews though!

Disclaimer: I do not own Andrew, unless it is wendesday night this week and we are both drunk. Then yes, I do own him indeed. I own Something Corporate when they're high on weed. I own this song because it's about me. But legally wise, I don't own any of those.

To Wednesday night when I see Something Corporate/Straylight/Armor for Sleep/ The academy is and Ashley because she's the reason I'm going to rape Andrew. Wilgene is all for you, yourwhoreness.
Thanks again to the lovely Jules for reading this story. And everything else I write. And telling me it's crap. I love you too.

Be a cool whore and you'll end up in my dedications since the same people are in my deeds again. Damn you whores.

Long Sets for Konstantine

Chapter 2: I want to save you

Andrew woke up the next day with a major hangover. He looked around, startled for a moment before he realized the phone was ringing. Groaning, he got up from the warm covers and picked up the phone.

"What?" He said, his voice sounding extremely gruff and manly. If only his voice sounded like this on a daily basis. He sounded like a pansy the rest of the time.

"Andrew. Wake up call. Get your ass into the shower or whatever the hell pretty boys have to do. Radio show at 7, bitch."Wilgene said.

God, Wilgene's voice hurt his head. It was so obnoxious and loud, screeching into the phone just to piss him off.

"Fuck, why do you have to talk so damn loud into the phone?" He mumbled.

All he did was laugh at him. Then laugh at him some more. What an asshole.

"That's what you get for drinking my friend."

He hung up on him. Next time that kid got drunk, Andrew wouldn't be dragging his sorry ass out of the door and driving him could hump the floor drunk for all he cared.

He didn't think the hangover would be this bad. Then again, he rarely drank. It wasn't his fault. It was Konstantine's. She plagued his mind all last night and hadn't been able to ignore the bar screaming at him to get a drink. Or two. Okay, so maybe it was a lot more than two but that was beside the point. The point was that it was Konstantine's fault. He couldn't remember anything after that though. Just a haze. Except he distinctly remember seeing Konstantine's long blonde hair. He wish he could touch it to feel the silk run through his hands or even to smell it, even if it was just a little whiff. Her hair always smelled like peaches in Georgia. The smell of someone innocent and pure. What irony.

But at that moment, all he wanted to do was crawl under the covers and go back to the blissful sleep of eternal black. Then again, his whole room was still pitch black. It was almost like when he was sleeping, except his eyes were open. Wide open instead of closed like they were meant to be. It was fucking 6 in the morning, but duty calls. Damn, being in a band sucked so much sometimes. Especially when they scheduled radio shows so early.

He went and turned on the lamp next to the bed. Aw shit, the light was so bright. You'd think the lampshade would do something to compress the light. It was like... the fucking sun! He stared at it for a few minutes to see if it hurt as much. Maybe he'll go blind. That'd be a cool experience. His head was getting a little woozy from staring at the light too long, feeling like he'd just had a dab of pot. Not that he did pot. Black dots stared to appear, so he looked away. Maybe going blind wouldn't be that cool.


Crap. That came from his bed. There was a lump he didn't notice when he woke up moving in his bed. And then the lump appeared naked and rumpled.

He screamed. It was a manly scream though and he cocked his head, screaming again. Wow he sounded hot.

"God what are you screaming like a girl about?" the girl asked.


"Like Konstantine..." His mind echoed back. No, not like Konstantine. Konstantine didn't exist anymore. She was like a ghost in his mind now, faceless to everyone yet always endlessly floating from place to place in his conscience.

She was a blonde, but the color was fake like the rest of California's best females. It looked like pee and he wished he could flush it down the toilet and watch it whirl and whirl until it disappeared. God how he wish the hair would disappear. Maybe going blind wouldn't be that bad. The girl looked about 23 with aging wrinkles around her eyes that spoke of age and street knowledge which surpassed her years. He didn't usually sleep with woman older than him. Or more emo.

"Except Konstantine..."

Goodness. His mind was so annoying, betraying him and being loyal to Konstantine. He wish he had a switch to turn it off like he wished he had a switch to turn off memories of Konstantine. Maybe then he wouldn't look so tired all the time, like he'd gotten only 3 hours of sleep. Which was true. Dreams and nights were never pleasant to him and his ability to sleep.

The air conditioner suddenly turned on, making a whooshing noise, and for the first time he noticed he was naked. The girl was staring at him hungrily, eyeing his body with obvious lust even though there were bags under her eyes hinting at how tired she was. What a whore. He felt tainted and misused so he grabbed his boxers and shirt from the floor and slipped them on, instantly feeling warmer.

"Um. Hi." Andrew started. "I kind of have a radio show soon... so it's probably best that you leave. Go home or something. Don't you have school today?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm a drop out."

Go him. He slept with a girl who not only was older than him, but a college drop out. Such intellect was oozing out of her pores. He was such a hypocrite. He didn't even go to college, nevertheless apply. He just wanted to make music.

He started to say something, but instead he just said, "Oh..."

"So um... what college did you go to?"

He tried to sound interested. but the truth was, he just wasn't. He was tired and had a nasty hang over looming over his head.

The girl laughed and he couldn't help but cringe. The girl's voice sounded even manlier than his right now and that was a lot of man in a voice.

"High school drop out silly!"

Oh wow. Wow. This was bad. Very bad.

He eyed her with obvious distaste in his eyes and let out a breath, nervousness bubbling onto the surface. He could feel his IQ drop a few points from sleeping with this slightly dumb whore.

"How old are you?"

The girl suddenly looked uncomfortable. She had stopped eyeing him by now and a tear slipped down her cheek. Next thing he knew, she was sobbing, sounding like a car that wouldn't start and was about to go to the junkyard. She certainly looked the part.

He didn't know what to do, but through the mass of her sobs he distinctly heard her say she was 15.

Shit. He glanced over at the clock besides the bed. It read 6:21. He really needed to take a shower because he felt so dirty. Almost like a crib robber or whatever that phrase was. . What was worse was that this was a hotel. If anyone ever found out he slept with an underage girl, there'd be proof he did. Tapes. Illegal. Dammit she looked in her 20's!

He started to feel panic rise up in him and the girl raised her head, stained with tears yet looked almost proud of herself. Go her, right? She slept with the Andrew McMann. What a story to tell her friends.

And just like that, anger rushed into his blood and though he didn't usual have trouble with getting violent considering he was pretty weak, he wanted to slap the side of her head. What was so special about him anyways besides that he was a rockstar? Being a rockstar wasn't anything special.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Room." Andrew nearly screamed. He wanted to roar like a lion or do some animal ritual that expressed anger like he saw on The Discovery Channel. He felt like kicking himself instead. Or he could just do it Napoleon Dynamite style and kick at nothing. Less pain.

Flippin' idiot.

"And if you tell anyone about this night, just remember that I was flat out drunk. What a story to tell your friends, huh? You seduced Andrew of Something Corporate when he was drunk." he said cruelly, wanting her to feel the bunt of his anger that was boiling, red and hot, onto the surface.

The girl stared at him, wide eyed and scared before she grabbed her bra, underwear, and dress and slipped them on as quickly as possible before she rushed out of the door.

He sighed. The silence was nice. And he was glad because for once, the silence didn't mean anything other than rest for his throbbing head.

"This is z970 with So Cal's very own Andrew McMann and Wilgene Menchise of Something Corporate!"

Dammit. This guy was way too perky for 7 in the morning. He wish he could take the guy's head and smash it into the floor or something violent that'd release a few years off his age.

"So Andrew, tell us about this song you're about to play acoooooustic style!"


"I hope he goes acoooooustic style his fucking ass considering it'sWilgene that plays the guitar." Andrew muttered.

"What'd you say? Speak up sonny!"

"Er..." Andrew scratched his head. His hair was getting really long as it hung into his eyes, nearly blocking the view of the fat radio dj. Thank god. "Nothing."

"Basically this is a new song... I actually wrote it a long time ago." he started before he was interrupted... again. It was going to be one fucking long morning.

"New song?! Hear that folks! NEW SONG!"

The guy laughed a jolly Santa-fat-guy laugh that could erupt a volcano in Hades. What was his name again? Jeff? John? Something boring and trite. Name matches the person, for once. Andrew always thought his name should've been something spectacular. Like Napoleon. Napoleon McMahon.

"So, tell us about this new song Andrew."

He really didn't want to talk about Konstantine on air, but before he knew it his mouth was talking and his mind was frozen, unable to think about what he was saying as he felt his whole mood sinking into a dark, low abyss.

"It's about this girl I use to know. I think all of our fans know of her- Konstantine. Yes, another song about her." Andrew laughed nervously, twisting the promise ring on his finger around and around. He could feel his heart beating out of control, feeling like it about to jump out of his heart. He wish it would. Oh, how he wish it would.

"... uh ... Great!"

Andrew cleared his voice and his fingers move over the notes, letting his hand slide expertly over the familiar keys. The rich sound went through him, sonorous and above all else, beautiful. He could work wonders with the piano, but not with his own life. Frankly, he treasured his god given gift and felt himself surge with emotion as he lost himself in the music. In the song. The lyrics. The story. Konstantine.

He wondered if she was listening. She probably was, smirking that beautiful smirk of hers that stretched across her face, showing her dimples as the corners of her lips lifted it, somehow always making him think how he wanted to be with her forever. How he never wanted to give her up. A simple smirk. He never wanted to, but what he wanted didn't matter.

Standing on the edge of morning
Scent of sex and New Found Glory

It was so long ago, but in his mind he could still remember everything. She was wearing his shirt, letting it hang off every sinuous curve of her body, her hair still wet from taking a shower. Andrew had woken to the sound of her singing in the shower, New Found Glory to be exact. He hated them with a passion, but she loved them and that was enough for him to not hate them as much. He had smiled then, hearing her try to reach a high note but instead failed miserably. A real smile. The first in such a long time and he wanted to tell her. Not a dark, deep hidden secret even if he had plenty. He just wanted to tell her he loved her. God, He had loved her so much. And he still did.

She looked like an angel when she stepped out of the shower, the droplets dripping down her body and clinging to her. A water goddess as the sun rose behind her, the brilliant pink shining upon her and emphasizing her pink cheeks and full lips. Oh how he wanted her.

Playing as she's pulling back her hair
She drives away she's feeling worthless

He closed his eyes, his hands playing the notes with such clear precision that it seemed like background music to his memories. God, the memories.

He remembered her distinctly pulling back her long blonde hair, still wet from the shower as he tangled his face in them as he hugged her, smelling peaches. She smelled so good.

"I love you Konstantine..."

She had looked up, her face void of any emotion at all, and left without another word. In her underwear with his shirt on looking so sexy as her hips swung with her hair, whoosh whoosh. Back and forth. Did she feel worthless? Probably. This to her had just been another night of sex. She was worthless. Just a slut. He was just as worthless too.

Home by three to deafening quiet
The porch lights off guess they forgot it
She'd cry herself to sleep but she don't dare

He wanted to save her from her life. She had such a hard life emotionally, but he knew her heart had closed up forever. He didn't think she'd ever dare let it open up again, especially for someone like him. He didn't matter enough. He never did.

And she wants to be a model
She wants to hear she's beautiful
She's beautiful

She was beautiful. More beautiful than anyone he had ever seen in his life, with her full lips and wide blue eyes, always striking a string in his heart. The wide blue eyes that haunted his sleep with their iciness. He wish he was warm enough to melt them away, but all he was good for was music. That's what she told him the day he left.

Andrew closed his eyes in pain, wishing this would just stop. Memories of her. Thoughts of her when performing recently. Playing these songs was suppose to make it hurt less and turn it into just a song and not a memory. A personal hit to the heart, but they didn't. He wish he knew what was wrong with him.

Being in San Francisco knowing she was someone near here was a bad idea. Staying here for a week was an even worse idea.

I want to save you
I need you, save me too

He wanted to save her from her life. She needed someone to save her and bring back warmth into her life. Her parents were so cold and her life so lonely, always falling short of hopes and expectations. He just wanted to be there for her. And he knew if he saved her, she would save him. But he failed... again. He couldn't save her. How could he save her if he couldn't even save himself? Especially from falling so hard with her. He should've known and stayed away.

He needed to block all these memories out. So he opened his eyes, greeted by the fat radio jock bopping his head to the song, his eyes closed as if this song affected him. As if he'd ever know the feeling about wanting to save someone, but failing so miserably.

The song faded as it reached the end and he uttered the last verse quietly, desperation seeking into his voice.

Let me save you
Let me save you

He couldn't save her even if she let him. He couldn't do anything but music. That's all he was good for in this world.

He closed his eyes as the last guitar chord faded out, the memories inundating his mind. Him. Her. Dawn. New Found Glory. Her hair. Those eyes. The three words. Saving.

"I love you..." Andrew whispered. He didn't notice that the microphone was still on or the station was still airing them. All he could see was this vague outline of the present and the detailed pictures of the past, waiting on the floor, littering his shore.

All he wanted was to save her. Even if she never loved him back, knowing he saved her would be enough.


His eyes snapped open withWilgene looking concerned, his eyes swimming with questions that would never be answered. So many unanswered questions in his life.

"Lets go," He murmured. "I'm tired as fuck."

The radio dj was saying something into the microphone but he couldn't hear anything. He just wanted to leave.

"Whatever you want pretty boy."

Andrew cracked a smile. Pretty boy? Sure.