Chapter Text
2016
“i love you josh.”
it rings in the air, piercing. it feels like the dead silence just as a nuclear bomb makes contact with the earth before being enveloped with a deafening crash.
tyler will never forget the the look in josh’s eyes. the gentle orbs that he’s so used to receiving rays of love and gentleness from now emanate disappointment, disgust, as if tyler's confession is poisoned waste.
for once, josh’s eyes drop from tyler’s face to bore holes into the ground. he’s silent and unwavering in the way the tension keeps his shoulders tight and square, his chest barely moving as if he can’t breathe.
“josh?” tyler says quietly. he can barely breathe with the weight of a panic attack slowly settling into his chest and pressing his ribs closer and closer to his lungs, mind ringing with white noise. “please say something.”
josh lets out a sharp breath, fists beside him shaking but he doesn’t lift his eyes, keeping away the familiar reassurance he’d always been so generous with tyler in the past.
when he speaks, every word echoes with resentment, reservedness, thinly veiled disgust and every word stabs tyler in the heart.
“don’t say that, ty. i don’t love you, not like that,” he shakes his head and tyler can almost see the incredulity in his eyes even though he keeps them glued to the floor. “why would you say that? why would you ruin what we have?”
tyler’s shaking, sobs bubbling up in his throat. josh’s words are the last things he ever wanted to hear in his life and yet they ring in his ears louder than anything else. “josh, i’m sorry,” he says desperately. even though it feels like the world is falling apart, he clings on with broken fingernails, trying to hold together the shattered pieces of the friendship he threw so carelessly to the ground with his confused, deranged heart and dangerous desires. “let’s just forget about it. please.”
that makes him snap.
“forget about it?” josh is shouting, lifting his fiery eyes. tyler’s never seen his face contorted with so much anger, so much unbridled rage that it steals what little breath he still has in his lungs, and he swears josh’s silhouette is on fire. “i’ll never forget about this! tyler, this is wrong! you’ve perverted everything we have!”
“josh!” he almost screeches, sounding like a scared, cornered animal. “please—“
“no!” josh shouts. “fuck you, tyler!”
he storms off in a rage, and tyler collapses to the ground. he’s heaving, sobbing, but there’s no more air, the dirt collecting under his fingernails as he claws at the earth in pain.
he’s screaming at the sky that rains blood, crying hysterically and uncontrollably as every seam of the earth splits and falls apart, and he swears he’s dying. dying. dying.
nails rip into his forearm and it burns—
“tyler!”
the world disappears like smoke and he’s met with icy eyes, sharp and blue and full of an ocean of concern.
tyler only registers a few seconds later that he’s heaving for breath, sweat dripping from his forehead and suspicious liquid is spilling down his cheeks.
it’s only when he notices how tightly jenna is holding his arm that he realizes how badly he’s shaking.
“tyler, baby, you were screaming,” jenna says softly, stroking his curls from his forehead with her soft, ever-patient tone.
another nightmare.
“i’m sorry—jenna, i’m sorry,” he pants as he struggles to sit up in bed, feverishly wiping his face with his hands and trying to foolishly hide the undeniable tear tracks marking their salty way down his cheeks.
jenna’s quiet for a moment, and tyler already knows.
he was sobbing.
he was twisting and jerking in bed as if he was strapped to the rack.
he was shouting josh’s name.
he hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks.
jenna doesn’t repeat any of these things, simply scans the brunette with her eyes silently for a moment before sighing. she doesn’t move to sit up with him, knowing that once he’s up, he won’t go back to sleep. instead, she scoots over, laying her head in tyler’s lap.
his hand immediately finds her blonde hair, playing with the strands as he tries to calm himself down.
“i love you, baby,” she says quietly, like she knows that words are empty arenas tyler finds barely any comfort in, but it still soothes his heart, fills it and makes it a little more bearable at times.
he tries not to think about how every time it helps less and less, like a bandaid holding together torn flesh.
“i love you,” he whispers quietly. “i’m sorry for waking you up… again.”
“it’s okay, hon,” she yawns tiredly and tyler’s heart hurts just watching her close her eyes and nuzzle her cheek against his leg. this beautiful girl deserves the world, he thinks almost bitterly, knowing he’s standing in the way of not one but two people’s happiness now.
he bends over and kisses her cheek, hoping one of them will fall asleep.
••••
two weeks later.
tyler’s heart feels like it’s racing, the people that swarm around him and pat his shoulder in hello and good luck feel like the passive waves you sail through to get to the island, the beacon that holds center and attention, night and day.
the first thing that sticks out of the crowd like a sore thumb is the neon hair, bright and obnoxious. tyler remembers how wide he smiled when josh sent him the picture reveal, eyes squinted with his trademark joy and tongue between his teeth, his brilliant locks a highlighter shade. on anyone else tyler thinks it would look tacky, but josh pulls it off, just like every color of the rainbow.
“ty!” josh practically shouts, as if he hadn’t seen tyler a few minutes before, bounding over with an even brighter look in his eyes. they hold the familiar glaze of anxiety but he looks happier than ever; even in the cover of darkness provided by the blackout curtain, he radiates like the sun. “ready?”
tyler breathes and nods, offering josh a small smile. first show of the emotional roadshow tour and tyler feels his nerves alight with fire, the chanting and screams of the crowd traveling through his capillaries. usually he’s afraid of messing up on a particular song, getting to stage b on time, worried about the inevitable little mistakes that might happen during the show that they’ll have to learn from and tweak later on. sometimes he’s worried the set list might be played in the wrong order, or someone will let go of the standing platform during trees.
but josh’s eyes are the things that make him the most nervous this time around; having spent so many nights seeing them full of disgust and anger has almost scarred tyler’s vision of them, put memories that had never happened in josh’s eyes.
tyler knows it’s stupid to make a memory out of dream, but he can’t help when he flinches instinctively just a little when josh pats his hand against his shoulder in his usual, well-intentioned, kind way. it makes tyler cringe internally when a faint flash of hurt crosses josh’s face.
but he smiles again as if his body automatically is trying to salvage the situation, pretending he didn’t catch how the singer reacted to his touch. it’s a notch less genuine and accompanied by a strange look in his eyes and tyler’s stomach turns.
someone calls josh to the opposite side of the stage on his radio, and he turns to begin walking away, but the familiarity of the sight of his best friend leaving sets something off in tyler, a rising panic that seizes his very soul. tyler’s vocal cords start before he realizes it.
“josh?” he calls, and it sounds almost strained, desperate.
the drummer turns around to look at him, stopping dead in his tracks even as one of the crew members continues to beckon josh loudly.
“um,” tyler gulps, almost not expecting josh to stop. he could never stop josh from walking away, not in his dreams (and a part of him worries that he still can’t here in the realm of reality). “good luck,” he offers weakly, hoping josh can’t hear over the crowd screaming the way his voice cracks.
josh is silent for a moment, his hazel eyes studying tyler for a moment as if he’s bookmarking this moment in time, a leaflet to look back on later.
“good luck, ty,” he says back before someone walks up to him and whisks him away.
••••
“and then, i swear, the milk came outta michael’s fucking nose!”
the table erupts in laughter, michael shaking his head with annoyance though the redness in his cheeks tell another story, and the glare he shoots mark can’t mean anything good. mark shrugs sheepishly while chucking, clinking his beer glass against another one of the crew member’s.
josh watches all of this blearily, giving half-hearted smiles while everyone breaks off into little conversations, going off on their own little tangents about michael’s unfortunate cereal story or bringing up their own little hilarious misfortunes involving food on the road.
the good mood permeates around the restaurant table; two weeks in and the tour has been nothing but a success so far. everyone’s enjoying themselves at a well-earned dinner that isn’t a rushed pickup of taco bell or catered by a venue; everyone’s spent the whole night laughing raucously and smiling ear to ear.
everyone, it seems, except josh.
for the most part, his head had been down, little lies of being exhausted falling too easily from his lips whenever someone nudged him or asked if he was doing okay. it’s believable enough; not all of them played drums for more than two hours straight in front of thousands every night, and that was discounting all of the other physical stunts he’d had to pull off every night.
he tries to keep his eyes glued to his phone, even though he keeps flicking back and forth through his apps: photos, messages, emails, snapchat, instagram, then closing all of them and reopening them seconds later. it’s a vicious cycle propelled by inner turmoil, the sheer force of will to continue blankly staring at the monotony of his phone screen just so he doesn’t have to look at tyler.
and jenna.
tyler and jenna who sit across from him at the table, her arm slung around his shoulders and his hand on her thigh, no doubt.
he bites his lip a little bitterly every time his brain decides to flash the memory of how jenna was introduced to him that night, how it felt like all of his arteries were clogging and the blood was slowly draining from his heart as she made her way towards him as they greeted the crew, tyler trailing behind.
“josh!” she says his name like she’d known him for years, quickly moving over to embrace him. josh vaguely thinks about how she smells like clean linen and lemon, and there’s a faint draft of tylers cologne that he recognizes.
it almost makes him sick.
“i’m so glad i get to finally meet you!” jenna beams at him, and under any other circumstance, josh would think about how beautiful her pearly smile is between her peachy glossed lips, how stunning her icy eyes are, maybe even how complimentary her white floral dress flows around her figure, but he’s frozen, brain short circuiting as he realizes he’d never seen or heard of this girl’s existence in all of his life. he vaguely realizes that she may have been the reason behind why tyler texted him so slowly these past few months, why tyler had stopped hugging him or smiling at him like he used to—
suddenly, tylers beside her, clearing his throat with an almost worried look in his eyes. “uh, josh,” he says, smiling a little waywardly and saying his name like josh is lost in a sea storm, like tyler’s a beacon trying to call him back to earth. “this is jenna.”
he doesn’t add “my girlfriend,” but josh isn’t stupid enough to think it isn’t implied. not with the way jenna grabs his hand and laces it between her fingers perfectly like it was something they practiced for years.
josh is sure the silence only lasts a few seconds but it feels like eternal agony thinking about the way he used to take tyler’s hand so carelessly and freely, the way jenna is holding it now.
something about the way tyler blinks and clears his throat pointedly at josh nervously compels the drummer’s throat to start working, though his voice grates on his own ears suddenly.
“jenna,” josh repeats as if it had been a relevant name he heard from the singer before. he nods at her and offers a polite, tight-lipped smile. “i’m josh but… you knew that.”
she nods, golden curls bouncing. “i’ve heard so much about you! you were so great at the show tonight.”
something turns in his stomach at the thought that she was the reason tyler was late to soundcheck earlier, why he was so distracted and practically evaporated after the show.
“thanks,” he mumbles before someone else stands up to greet the couple and josh slips away as quickly as he can.
he knows tyler will take it wrong if he disappears into the bathroom, and being cornered alone by the singer is the last thing he wants, so he sneaks into michael’s chair (thank heavens michael was always late to dinner) beside mark instead of the one he’d been saving beside tyler’s seat, and if mark gives him a strange look, he doesn’t mention it, continuing in his conversation with logan, another person from their camera crew.
josh’s head reels every minute after that incident, brain filling with uncomfortable fuzz, and for once, he feels tyler’s eyes burn into him unrelenting through the whole uncomfortable meal.
when dessert rounds begin and tyler disappears to the bathroom with jenna, josh excuses himself, saying to whoever listens that he’s tired and he’s off to the hotel, foolishly hoping tyler won’t notice and follow.
he’s about to exit the door when someone grabs his arm, and his head whips around so hard his neck pops.
“geez, calm down,” mark says, brows furrowed as josh groans, rubbing the sudden bloom of soreness. “where you going?”
“hotel,” he says briskly, glancing over mark’s shoulder nervously towards the bathroom. “i told you.”
“josh,” eshelman sighs, crossing his arms. that concerned look from the beginning of the night never left his face, as long as he was looking at the drummer that night, at least. “are you okay?”
“yea, i’m just tired,” he lies again before seeing a familiar, haunting blonde walk out of the bathroom hallway. “sorry, i gotta rest. catch you later.”
before mark can say anything else, josh practically bolts out of the door, footsteps impatient and brusque against the dirty concrete of the city like he can’t wait to leave it, like he’ll die as long as he’s within proximity of it.
bodies pass around him, avoiding collision into him and the storm cloud over his head.
if a little rain gets in his eyes, no one would know.
••••
josh never falls asleep that night.
in the morning , he pulls the lever sharply to the left. the water is scalding hot, practically boiling as it pours down on josh’s skin. he’s shaking, mindlessly leaving harsh red scratches down his arms with his jagged, bitten-down fingernails. somehow his tears burn his skin more than the water, and it almost makes him scream.
he isn’t sure how long he stays in the shower, just enough for the heat to settle under his skin like a fever and for his arms to be torn up by the constant scratching.
when he changes into his clothes he’s shaking; when he robotically packs the small backpack he’d brought he’s shaking; when he walks down the hallway of the hotel he’s shaking.
everything is a blurry sea to him, his vision warped and distorting everything to look dimmer and paler. he barely recognizes mark until he’s up in his face, holding josh’s red arms and shaking him.
“josh,” he says sternly, “where have you been?”
the drummer blinks, throat sore from the sobs that ripped through it the night before. “shower,” he answers gruffly, even as his throat screams in protest, aching and raw, his arms burning under mark’s harsh hold.
everything hurts.
mark’s face softens as he takes in josh’s appearance, and the concern that fills his eyes makes him uneasy, the hands on his arms looser and looser until they let him go.
“dude, are you okay?” mark’s tone is hushed and gentle, and the drummer can’t even look him in the eyes, starting stubbornly at his chin. “you look like a lobster with an allergic reaction.”
“i’m fine,” josh snaps a little too loudly, coughing a couple of times to try to reset the pain that blossoms in his throat. he pushes past mark, unwilling to say any more.
he knows he’s late to the bus, he knows he missed breakfast with everyone, he knows he looks like utter hell surfaced on earth. he’s missing everything and messing the entire schedule. he just isn’t enough, and he knows that.
it doesn’t make it hurt any less when he squeezes his eyes and all he sees in his mind’s eye are his least favorite memories from the night before, tyler and jenna, holding hands, smiling at one another, giving each other chaste kisses over shared martinis and fresh baked bread.
josh remembers how he bristled the first time he saw jenna press a kiss into tyler’s tan cheek, how his whiskey eyes seemed to spill love and comfort as he glanced at her with the softest smile.
he remembers how he dug his fingernails into the fleshiest parts of his arms at that very moment, and didn’t let go until the crescent moons stained his nails crimson.
when he hops onto the tour bus filled with their sound and light techs, they all seem a bit startled though no one says anything, only greeting him politely and nodding easily when he asks them if he can ride with them.
settling into a corner, he shoots mark a text to let him know he wouldn’t be riding on the main tour bus. he stuffs his phone eagerly into his pocket, pointedly ignoring it when it buzzes a couple of times.
pulling his hoodie over his head, he shuts his eyes tightly, and tries to will away all invasive thoughts filled with whiskey eyes and tan skin.
the ride to the next city is all too short, even though josh doesn’t get down to eat for lunch. he hasn’t even had so much as a sip of water when they get to the venue late in the afternoon, but his stomach still bubbles uncomfortably with nausea as he slowly makes his way over into the arena, feet quick as he tries to find his dressing room, vigilantly staying out of everyone’s (tyler’s) way.
he changes monotonously out of his clothes and into his red suit, trembling fingers fumbling with his black tie for what feels like hours. he’s millions of miles deep in his mind when he hears someone knock on his door, so much so that he barely hears it.
he jumps when it pierces through the clouds of his poisonous thoughts, when it’s become heavy thumping accompanied by an all too familiar voice calling his name.
at first, he thinks maybe if he stays quiet, tyler will go away and look for him somewhere else, or better yet, forget about josh all together, but despite holding his breath tightly in his lungs, remaining stone still as if tyler has mutated x-ray dinosaur vision, tyler only begins knocking louder.
“josh,” tyler almost shouts, and the tone of his voice alone makes an abused, broken part of josh automatically walk over to the door. he grasps the handle, but stops himself.
“what is it?” his voice wavers even though he tries hard to keep it steady, throat tight.
“josh,” and the singer says his name so softly, so sweetly it almost makes him cry, and that’s the moment he knows tyler has him right in the palm of his hand. “open the door.” it’s enough for him to twist the knob and jerk the door open, and suddenly he’s gone from staring at a plain black door to his best friend’s face.
tyler pushes past him silently and into the room, and the drummer shuts the door slowly. he doesn’t turn around to look at the singer, simply keeping his body faced stubbornly towards the door, as if he needs to be ready to bolt out of the room at any moment.
“josh?”
the air in the room feels like a thread slowly pulling tighter and tighter with each passing second.
•••••
it’s quiet in the room, save for the thumping and footsteps and incessant chatter going on the other side of the door, but all of that falls away.
tyler stares at the bright crimson back of josh’s suit jacket, the way his arms hang limply around his sides motionless and dangled.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” josh says quietly, and tyler imagines the way he blinks in between the moments of silence, the way he does when he’s nervous or confused. “nothing.”
“you didn’t ride on the bus with me today,” the singer remarks, trying to keep his tone light-hearted but failing miserably; it ends up coming out as accusatory as it sounds in his mind, so much so that tyler physically winces even as it leaves his mouth. he clears his throat and tries again, “just thought you would get lonely riding with all the tech guys.”
josh shrugs, mulls it over silently for a long while. “guess i just needed some quiet time.”
and that’s the nail in the coffin for tyler; with how soft and silent josh could become, he hated quiet. constantly he had to be surrounded by his drums or friends; even when he was sick and needed rest, he’d rather be lounging on the couch among his friends playing nintendo, not participating but simply basking in the laughter and arguments and shouting.
“josh, are you mad at me?”
“no,” he denies quickly, almost as if he doesn’t answer immediately it’ll give him time to think, to let his doubts creep in like dust settling into his bones. “why would you think that?”
tyler blinks, not trusting josh’s repudiation but tiptoeing carefully. a part of his brain tastes sour, knowing that it was something he wasn’t used to doing around his best friend.
“nothing, last night you just seemed like you were,” he pauses, wracking his brain for the right word, “caught off guard, and i guess you were.” he sighs, moving a few steps in an attempt to try to close the gap between them. josh still doesn’t face him.
“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you about her. i was just—“
scared?
confused?
anxious?
it’s like tyler’s internal clock stops but the time in the outside world moves high speed. it takes tyler aback, the realization that he can’t pinpoint a singular fear or reason why he hadn’t told his best friend about jenna, why even now he feels bugs crawling under his skin as he’s talking to josh, like he’s confessing his darkest sins.
“it’s fine,” the drummer mumbles, shrugging helplessly, his voice almost inaudible when he adds, “i just didn’t know we were keeping secrets from each other.”
tyler vaguely realizes when his body begins twitching, almost protesting the defeated, devastated way his best friend speaks.
“i should’ve told you.” his words are slurred with regret, the way his words become when he feels this nervous. “i’m sorry.”
josh turns around briskly, eyes glued to the floor as he practically rushes past the singer.
“let’s just get this show done,” the drummer grits out, and tyler’s stomach clenches.