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The first time, it was raining. No, raining would’ve been an understatement for the water that came pouring down in buckets, soaking whatever crossed its path or dared to peek outside. Anyone could’ve told Johnny he was a fool for sitting in the rain like that, clothes sticking to him like a second skin while his hair leaked droplets into his face as it stuck to his forehead.
Anyone could’ve told him but there was nobody there.
Johnny was alone and he had the feeling no one would ever join him there on the bench as he kicked pebbles towards the grass, red roses carefully placed onto it. God forbid he actually reached the grass. It would be shameless, no respect for anything that wasn’t his own. Johnny scoffed to himself.
People were hypocrites.
He didn’t want to be alone but the guys were too busy to even think of joining him. They didn’t care enough. Not about him, not about anything to do with him. He sighed, the sound lost in the rain as it clattered onto stone, wood and the loudest of all, plastic. There must’ve been a shed somewhere nearby with a plastic rooftop.
Johnny gazed at the evening sky, the clouds shielding the blue from him in a thick grey mass of fluff but he could see the sun trying to fight its way through. It was slowly setting. It would be dark soon. The rapper shrugged to himself, convincing himself that no one would notice if he were to stay where he was. It seemed more… appealing to stay there. The guys would only fight, fight, fight.
He could live without that fact for now but unfortunately as he was staring at the grass, staring at someone’s property and trying to avoid the thoughts that came with it, his phone made a sound. Guess the guys did care about his whereabouts after all.
Though when he looked at the screen of his phone, he felt a wave of disappointment crash over him. It was Asia, wishing him good luck on the tour they were leaving on that evening. Right, the tour. How could he have forgotten? Three months with the guys and he could only hope they wouldn’t kill each other in the process.
***
The second time, was after their three months of touring together. Miraculously, they hadn’t killed each other but they hadn’t managed to come home unharmed. A few words of hatred were exchanged and Johnny wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the band from falling apart.
Chances were there would not be another album.
As he finally sat down again on his bench, staring at the green grass in front of him, it wasn’t raining today. There were red roses on top of the grass once again. Who would leave red roses in his usual spot? Today was a sunny day which seemed to be in contrast with what he had endured those past few months. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes tiredly. The days were getting tougher to survive since the tour had begun, no scratch that, since he had been coming to that bench to give his conscious a rest. It only seemed to nag at him for being at home, enjoying his life while they weren’t doing fine.
It was hard enough to explain to the fans that Five stood for “fifth album” and wasn’t meant to celebrate Da Kurlzz’ departure. Somehow, they thought the number five stood for the amount of band members while that happened to be a happy coincidence. Or unhappy coincidence?
Yet they noticed something was off about them. There were only four of them. Where was their fifth member? Johnny could barely look them in the eye, stuttering he was sick or something but he wasn’t.
Their fans weren’t stupid. Not like those retarded fans who would buy thousand dollar tickets to see the artist. Who charges a thousand dollar for concert tickets?
Who the fuck even bought those? Anyway, their fans weren’t buying any bullshit from them about the sick story. That excuse kept biting them in the ass as well since they never showed up as a five piece anymore, always someone missing during concerts, interviews, arrivals, signings. They knew the guys had lost their marbles and their fifth member, continuing as a four piece. Fans were angry but this time, they hadn’t kicked him out.
He had kicked them by leaving.
***
The third time, Johnny just had to get away from it all, sitting on the ever-the-same bench while leaves were scattered around him. It was spring so the leaves were small, pink petals, meant to look romantic but it was no place for romance.
One could say Johnny lost his mind that day, talking to himself like an idiot but there was no one there.
He was all alone so who could’ve noticed his monologues?
“How can I keep these idiots together? They don’t care about each other. They’re all just hurt by the betrayal. The bastard left us. How selfish”, Johnny cussed, muttering under his breath as he clenched his jaw in time with his fists. He dug his feet into the dirt, staring at the green grass, roses in place, that seemed more vivid than ever now that it was spring, the season of newborn life.
He chuckled to himself, mocking the name the season had, because to him, it didn’t feel like a new beginning, like a new life. He was still living the crap life he always had, only it had all gone to hell in these past few months. He seemed to be coming there a lot, each time looking more dishevelled than the time before that.
Even his wife couldn’t seem to take it anymore but she kept her mouth shut wisely as she didn’t want to push him away any further. Maybe she wasn’t even pushing.
Maybe Johnny was the one pushing himself off or maybe said fifth lost member was pulling him back, dragging him through the dirt and sand as he strode away from the guys with a “goodbye” sign in hand. Since when was he a cartoon to mock global matters in the newspaper?
He would’ve laughed if he had the strength to but things just weren’t funny anymore. He felt torn and he couldn’t hide it. He felt defeated that no one wished to join him on his journey to the green grass and the bundle of roses and the bench and the pebbles and the pink petals.
He sighed. And the grave.
***
The fourth time, was hell on Earth for the blue masked rapper. Not only were they falling apart but the news of their dead fifth member leaked and the fans were furious they didn’t tell them.
What was left to tell them? He died. Talking about it won’t bring him back, although he considered talking about it would be a good way for the guys to deal with the pain. Take a step towards healing or whatever crap they believed in in one of those mourning sessions. That was what they were called, right?
One of those sessions where the people just kept talking about a dead friend, beloved or relative? Johnny thought it was. He couldn’t bring himself to sit on the bench like he had all those times before. Instead, he settled for pacing back and forth in front of the tombstone, growling at himself. “Are you happy now?”
Of course the stone wouldn’t tell him much except for the name and lifespan with the date of birth and date of passing. There were red roses carefully placed at the bottom of the stone. He wondered who left them there all these days. Who bothered to bring him roses? He rolled his eyes as if it had given him a snarky reply. “I hate you.”
He did hate him. He hated him for dying, for making them fall apart, for leaving them with album without him, for putting them in trouble on social media. For abandoning his friends.
“You couldn’t have just… jumped out of the way? No adrenaline in that brain of yours?”
He knew it was futile to rage at a grave but he was damn persistent to do so. Let it all out so he could return to the guys and offer them calm guidance in between hopelessness and rage. Someone had to do it and they didn’t seem to plan on comforting each other anytime soon. If he wanted Hollywood Undead to keep existing, he had to save it as well.
The worst case had been Charlie.
He wasn’t very good at dealing with deaths. He never was but he’d usually shrug it off with a joke to hide the pain. Now he wouldn’t even do that. They’d find him sulking by himself, fleeing whatever company he had. Shut the world out.
When he wouldn’t, he would fight them and since most of them had been dealing with it in anger, it didn’t take much for them to try to kill each other. All for this man who died. All for this guy who decided that jumping in front of the train they’d been waiting for all hour, was a great way to die.
***
The fifth time, Johnny felt obliged to go sit on that bench and guiltily look at the grave before he could muster the courage to say something. He hadn’t been fair last time he was there. Johnny knew his friend had been miserable for a while and he knew he had wanted to die a few times already but Johnny was just so angry about the way he did it.
He wanted to know why! Johnny let his head fall into his hands, desperation taking over. “Why’d you do it like that? Did you want to scar us?”
No, probably not. He’d always liked symbolism so maybe it was supposed to say “let me die. You can’t do anything to save me.”
Maybe but he wasn’t sure and since his friend was dead, he didn’t want to assume anything anymore. Not since he hadn’t even known he walked around with those thoughts in his head once again. None of them ever even noticed.
Johnny’s way of dealing with it, was slowly working. He managed to keep himself in check while offering solace whenever he could. The guys were opening up to him about it, talking about the horrifying details haunting them at night. He couldn’t say he hadn’t had the same nightmares.
Blood, limbs, staring eyes…
Why had they even bothered to check if he was still alive while the ambulance was coming their way? They should’ve known no human could survive the impact. Maybe if they hadn’t witnessed it, they wouldn’t have as much trouble dealing with the whole thing. Or maybe they wouldn’t have been able to accept it either?
Luckily the uproar of fans slowly died down and they all ended up being supportive but it wasn’t enough. They needed each other more than ever but somehow Johnny was the only one holding them together and it would stay that way until they finally got a hold on themselves.
“You really screwed us over. I’m sorry we didn’t see your pain”, Johnny sighed, more to himself than he was talking to him. The grave of his friend seemed larger than before, more confronting. “I wish you could tell us why you did it but you can’t, can you?”
Johnny smiled sadly at the grass and the tombstone in between the patches of green surrounded by more graves. It was the fifth time there were roses placed at the tombstone. “I miss you, Jay, we all miss you.”
But of course, J-Dog was unable to reply to his sad words.
***
The sixth time, Johnny was fed up with being there alone while none of the others cared for coming along with him to Jay’s grave.
They’d been his best friends for fuck’s sake. Johnny was ready to scold them but Danny kept him from ranting. “Can’t you see, Johnny? We’re not ready. You may find peace in seeing him like that but we don’t. For us, seeing the tombstone makes it final. We don’t want it to be final just yet. Give us some more time to heal. I don’t want us to fall apart because we forced ourselves to cope with it too soon”, the singer had requested and Johnny appreciated the honesty more than he thought he would.
After glancing at the other two, he could only sigh and agree to go alone once more. Maybe next time he wouldn’t be alone but as he made his way through the path in between the grass, he could see he wasn’t the first to sit down on the bench today. Someone beat him to it and it made him happy, even willing to run towards the one at Jay’s grave but inching closer made him stop dead in his tracks.
Why was he here?
“The fuck are you doing here?!” Johnny yelled, causing the man to slightly jump, yanked away from his thoughts. He shrugged, looking almost guilty. “Ask for forgiveness?”
Johnny’s hostile attitude dissolved into confusion as he stared. “For what?”
“Mentally wishing he was dead”, the shorter man confessed, weak smile in place. “I wanted to believe I hated him so bad but I never did. I’ve always loved him. No matter what.”
Johnny raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t expect you to believe me. I’ll just go and come back when you’re not here. I bet you want some alone time.”
Johnny blinked. “No, Aron, stay.”
Deuce whipped his head up, looking at the older man. “You want me to stay?”
“I’ve been here alone for too long with Jay. He deserves more friends around him.”
“What about the others? Don’t they care?” he asked.
Johnny shrugged. “They do. They’re just not ready.”
“I can imagine”, Deuce murmured.
The blue masked rapper sighed, sitting down on the bench next to his old rival like they were old friend sharing a beer. He looked down, remembering a flash of red he had seen the former singer carry and glanced to his side, a bundle of red roses. He smiled at the discovery. He was the one who had left Jay red roses all this time.
He leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as he realized he wasn’t alone today.