Chapter Text
Josh groaned and turned over in his bed when he realized the knocking hadn't just been an overly realistic part of his dream. All he wanted to do was sleep the day away, much like he had done yesterday and the day before, but clearly that wasn't going to happen with someone relentlessly pouring on his bedroom door.
"Josh, wake up," a voice said from the other side. He recognized who it was immediately.
"Go away, Tyler," Josh mumbled back. "I just want to sleep."
Tyler sighed. "I'm coming in."
The door to Josh's room was pulled open and light from the hallway flooded in, followed by Tyler. He walked to the side of Josh's bed and pulled the covers off of him.
"Dude, get up," Tyler said as he poked Josh in the side. "We've been on break for six days and you haven't left your house once."
Josh sat up in his bed and pouted. "How did you even get in my house?"
"You're mom let me in," Tyler answered. "Now get up."
Josh pouted even more. "Mom! How could you betray me?" he shouted.
From somewhere within the house, the kitchen it sounded like, Mrs. Dun yelled back. "He's right you know. You need to get out of the house. You keep eating all my food!"
Tyler laughed and Josh frowned.
"Seriously, though, dude," Tyler said as he opened up the blinds to Josh's room. "You need to get out and do something."
"Whay should I listen to you?" Josh whined.
"Because I'm the lead signer of the band and we always have to do what I say," Tyler joked. He smiled at Josh, and then in a softer, more sincere tone added, "Because I'm your friend and I care about you."
Josh groaned and mumbled something along the lines of 'fine' as he rolled out of his bed and grabbed a clean shirt and pants. After his short shower he walked into the kitchen where he found Tyler sitting and talking with his mother.
"Alright, I'm up. Now what?"
"Now," Tyler said, "we have fun."
Turns out Tyler's version of fun was not going to see some random movie and falling asleep halfway through, much like Josh had been hoping. No, Tyler's idea of fun involved walking the streets of downtown and going into every possible thrift shop and music store. If Josh was being honest with himself, it was actually really fun just to hang out with Tyler like this and make fun of each other as they tried on ridicilous aticles of clothing, but Josh wasn't going to give Tyler the satisfaction of knowing that he was right about Josh needing to get out of his house.
"Dude, Josh," Tyler called out. "You've gotta come see this."
Josh set down the hat he had been holding and walked over to the wall Tyler was looking at. In front of thm was a large oil painting of a peaceful looking meadow. It was pretty, but Josh didn't really understand Tyler's facination with the painting.
"It's a cool picture, but what about it?" Josh asked.
Tyler didnt say anything. Instead he reached out to touch the painting, but his hand never touched the canvas. It went through.
"What the," Josh whispered. He stuck his own hand into the painting. His hand was warm and it felt like there was a slight breeze.
"Are our hands in the painting?" Josh questioned.
"I think so?" Tyler replied. "Should I stick my head in there?"
"What? No, that doesn't sound like a smart idea at all," Josh stated. "Let's do it together."
Tyler cracked a smile. They looked around to make sure no one was wacthing, and on the count of three, they stuck their heads through the painting.
They felt a breeze brush against their faces and a sun other than the one outside the shop they were in was warming their cheeks. In the distance they heard a bird chirping and a stream flowing.
When they pulled their heads out, they tunred to eachother.
"Was that real?" Tyler asked. "That felt real. Like the breeze, and it even smelled like I thought it would."
"It did feel real," Josh agreed. "That's so weird."
"Yeah," Tyler said. "Almost too weird for me. I don't like it. Only bad things come from stuff like this."
"I don't like it either. No matter how cool it was, it kinda freaks me out. Let's get out of here."
"Yeah, okay," Tyler replied.
Josh took a step forward to follow Tyler out of the small store, but his foot caught on something. His arm flew out to grab onto someting to catch his fall, but it went through the painting. When he tried to pull it out, it pulled him back in.
"Tyler, the painting won't let go of me," he panicked.
Tyler tunred around and walked back towards Josh. "What do you mean?"
"Its pulling me in!" Josh cried. He had never liked being stuck in places or small areas. It was his biggest fear. He fought against the pull of the oil, but it wasn't letting go. Instead it tugged him in deeper up to his shoulder.
"Dude, calm down. We'll get you out," Tyler tired to reassure Josh. He grabbed ahold of Josh's other arm and tried to help get him free, but it wasn't helping. The painting was pulling back harder.
"Tyler! I don't like this!" Josh exclaimed. Ha gave another tug on his arm, and again the painting pulled back. Suddenly his whole upper torso went throught the canvas.
Tyler pulled even harder on Josh's arm, but he could feel himslf losing his grip. It was like tug-o-war with some invisible force, and Josh was so unfortunate as to be the rope.
Tyler took a step back to try and get better leverage, but he tripped on whatver Josh had tripped on in the beggining. He fell backwards and Josh's arms felw out of his hands. Tyler looked up just in time to see Josh's feet disappear behind the oil.
"Josh!" Tyler screamed. He scrambled to his feet and tried to reach into the painting, but his hands met a solid surface. "Josh!"
"Tyler?"
"Josh! Can you hear me?"
"Barely," came the faint reply.
"Okay. I can't reach through the painting to get to you," Tyler said. He was worried. He knew Josh didn't like being thrust into new places and situations without someone else with him. "Are you okay?"
"I landed a bit weird, but otherwise, I'm okay I think."
Tyler breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. I'm going to try and find the owner, okay? We're going to get you out of there."
"Okay. Please hurry though," Josh whimpered.
Tyler ran to the front of the store. An older gentleman dressed in a plaid shirt smiled at Tyler when he walked up to the counter.
"How can I help you?" he said in a thick country accent.
"Sir, my friend fell through one of your paintings," Tyler explined. The man's eyeborws shot up. "Look, I know that sounds bizarre, but you have to believe me."
"No, no, no," the man said. "I believe you. It's not the first time it's happened."
Tyler's eyebrows knitted together in confusion and bewilderment.
"Show me which painting, boy," the old man sighed. "Some of them have mosters."