Chapter Text
“can’t wait to see you Thursday! I’m whipping up a special tofu dish, just for you. :) It’s going to be the best thanksgiving ever. Xx mom”
Completely unsure why his mom was signing text messages even though he explained he had her as a contact in his phone last Christmas, Andy sent the best smiling emoji he could muster to his mother to hide the fact he was dying inside.
“and bring that lovely boyfriend of yours too!” pinged a response.
Andy sighed, responding “for sure!” before locking the phone and pocketing it. He picked up his metal water bottle from next to his kit to take a swig, clanging it down after. With now admittedly sweaty palms, he picked up his sticks again. The drummer donned his oversized headphones and began to mindlessly play.
It was that faithful time of year once again. The holidays were quickly approaching, much to Andy Hurley’s dread. It wasn’t that he hated to see his family, by no means was that the case. He’d always been close to them, what with not being a tour musician, he made his own schedule to come home, and the holidays were just the time for even more warm fuzzy feelings than usual.
Andy hated disappointing his mom. Though it was a sport he had always been particularly good at, it didn’t feel the best to win. Before he moved out with Mixon to the city, on the nights where he would play underground shows until 4am, his mom would always wait up for him at his childhood home. She never made it obvious, but Andy could see the light go out from down the hall once he shut the front door. She was always so supportive of him with a dream of being a heavy metal drummer that never really took off. He didn’t want to let her down again.
Around the holidays in particular, he always felt this expectation. With prying eyes from the relatives as he sipped on water while everyone downed wine.
“So where’s your girlfriend?”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Just haven’t found your match yet, huh, buddy?”
“Don’t worry sugar, there’s someone out there for everyone”
Yeah right.
Andy did well on his own. He really had only been lying to his mother for several months about having a totally real boyfriend because she believed the contrary. She always thought someone needed to take care of her son. But Andy was very much satisfied with taking care of Andy.
This time, however, the lie was catching up to him quickly. Something really had to give.
His phone buzzed again, thankfully with a message from someone not blood related to him. A text from “peter wentz aka daddy *eggplant emoji*” (who decided his own contact name many a year ago) popped up with a new message.
“do u think the pardoned turkey knws how special he is?”
Andy snorted, tapping a response.
“No, but you don’t see me going to farms picking which cow they won’t kill when I don’t eat burgers.”
“fair enuff. hows my 2nd favorite ginger 2day?”
“desperately seeking some thoughtful arm candy for thanksgiving? Any suggestions?”
“craigslist, dude. I’ve seen it in like, a million movies”
“Were they pornos?” Andy responded, cocking an eyebrow.
“…maybe” was all he got back.
Highly doubting this he responded “noted” and Pete texted him back with a thumbs up.
He figured that he really had nothing to lose at this point. So that’s how he found himself later that day, freshly showered and shaved, mindlessly scrolling through Craigslist under the personals section. Normally, this is not where he would go trolling for a new beau, but his mom knows Mixon too well to pass him off as a new bf and his other friends she might not know already bought their tickets to New York, Paris, Austin and beyond to see their families.
Mixon was also like a second son to his mom, so she would see right through the bullshit if Andy actually tried to finesse him off as a boyfriend.
He sighed, scrolling past all the sexual ads. He only really had ever used Craigslist twice before, once to sell a workout bench and another to find funny “missed connections” and convince Pete they were for him. This was a brand new territory and Andy knew it was wayyyy out of his comfort zone. He scrolled until what he felt like was hours had passed, his beard had grown back and the sun had rose and set three times before he saw the post.
“I’ll attend your social gathering with you for $50 bucks. No serial killers, please”
He couldn’t believe it, if there was a God then this was her divine intervention.
“I’m a 25 year old dude looking to make some extra money this hanukah season. Did you guys know gifts for your loved ones actually costs money? Wild. I read about another guy that did this on facebook and figured I’d give it a shot to the patrons of this lovely greater chi-town area. I can be an angel or a devil, really just depends how much racist shit your aunt can say to me before you want me to pop off.
Anyways, customize this tall drink of water to fit your needs. Perks are as follows: I have a smelly French bulldog named Louis that can come along for the ride as well. If you wanna clear a room of people you hate, one of his farts will do the trick. Beard or no beard too, I’ve included pics of both. Clean up real good, pics attached. If you want me to smoke indoors around your stepdad that hates you, it’ll cost you an extra fiver. Gimme a days notice and I’ll be there. Hit me up.”
Attached at the bottom was a picture of a man who was, according to the post, was 5 years younger than him. He looked it too, a baby face on a 25 year old was a sight to be seen. A mess of curly hair sat on the top of his head, accented with a beard in one photo and no beard in the other. A hand rolled cigarette dipped out of his bottom lip in one of them. Andy would never admit it to himself, but that is kinda hot.
Messaging him took deliberation. To Andy, there was sort of an illegal feel to this. Almost like buying a prostitute. He hung upside down off the edge of his bed, his laptop sitting open on the duvet to tempt him. Finally, he sat up and sighed, blood rushing back to his brain. He wasn’t doing this for himself. It was for mom. He mustered up the courage and reluctantly, sent Joe a message.