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If Tyler had to describe his life in just one word, he thought he'd choose fire. It so perfectly described how everything looked and felt. He was made of fire too, apparently. A fan told him that once. His star sign, Sagittarius, was a "fire sign." Did that mean the stars saw him as a big red triangle, like he was some kind of fire hazard? Maybe with an exclamation mark in the middle to warn for danger.
He wondered if his life was destined for fire. People did refer to him as a star now, whether it be of the rock denomination, or pop. Nobody could decide or tell. He couldn't either.
Eventually his stardom led him to the opportunity to add pyrotechnics to the stage. He took it in a heartbeat, knowing it would be more shocking, more exciting to look at, as if all the people who filled up the thousands of rows of chairs didn't come to see his band. He thought he still had to impress his fans. Realistically, they would show up even if he sat down and only played ukulele for two hours.
But that wouldn't spark interest. It was boring. Uninspired.
However, he didn't account for how hot the fire could get. When he first saw it in the tech rehearsals, it almost made him flinch. The heat of it engulfed his face and throat. Stage lights were hot enough, was he sure he wanted to add fire? Absolutely. Even if it made it harder to breathe on stage and melted the soles of his shoes. He would get over it, and then find another thing to battle on stage instead.
Unfortunately, he found the other thing. Pain. By no means was it actual fire, but it behaved like fire, licked up his spine and burned his skin worse than the pyrotechnics. Flames rose up in his chest every time he sucked in a quick breath to sing. Standing in the cryo-smoke only allowed the pain to subside for a few seconds at most. As quick as the fire dissipated, it already claimed his bones and muscles again.
It bloomed over his entire body by the end of the show. Not an inch of him remained pain-free. The relationship with his own body grew tenser every night.
At the end of one show, he bowed with Josh as usual, but Josh squeezed his eyes shut.
"You okay?"
"It hurts." Josh hissed, looking up at Tyler with a smile anyways. He laughed, "It hurts so bad, dude."
"I know."
It didn't surprise him that Josh passed out after downing a whole bottle of water. Before Tyler knew it, the band were on their way to another city, and he was left still awake. He envied Josh's ability to fall asleep and feel rested in the morning, even after the insane work-out every night.
Everything still burned. Mostly in his chest and spine. He switched from honey and tea to gulping down gobs of honey right out of the bottles. It tasted gross but it soothed the rawness of his throat faster than any other combination he'd tried.
Wherever they happened to be at the time, the timezones kept his wife away from the phone. She went to spend the day with her friends, unaware that Tyler needed help getting to sleep. Usually she was with him, but when plans didn't line up, she would at least video chat him until he fell asleep.
She wasn't even answering his texts. He tried not to spam her phone, so not to worry her. Asking for help never came naturally to him, which led him to neglect himself and accidentally lead people down the path of neglecting him as well.
But he needed her to know, anyways.
'the show was incredible. didnt see your face in the crowd though.'
He sent that around an hour ago. Maybe she didn't get the notification, and just didn't know. His thumbs seemed to move without permission, and by the time he could read back the message, he'd hit send.
'i miss you.'
"I miss you too, Ty," he said, waiting for the exact response. Maybe she would tack something on the end like... Like... Something, anyways. He scrolled up to read her past flirtations. "Just to pass the time," he told himself.
Time passed. He scrolled back months. Before tour started and they texted each other grocery lists and 'Are you coming to bed?' and 'yeah sorry i got caught up in the song'
He fell asleep on the couch, his head resting limply on the table in front of him. Josh woke a little later than the sun and found Tyler on his way to get a bottle of water. If Tyler wasn't in pain before, he sure would be now. He tried to be gentle as he shook Tyler awake. He'd probably been asleep a few hours at best. Josh hoped, anyways.
"Wake up, buddy," he said, and Tyler stirred, his cheek sticking to the plastic. "That can't be good for your back."
Josh was right, even though Tyler could only comprehend so much. It felt like someone roasted some needles over a fire just to stick them in his spine and keep them there. When he moved, the needles turned into giant syringes full of molten lava.
"Go get in bed."
"Mm-mm." Tyler shook his head and laid back down. The table brought no sense of comfort, but at least he didn't have to move if he stayed.
"Come on," Josh pet his hair. "You'll feel better once you get in bed. Just think about it, it'll be so soft and comfy. You've got a big ol' full sized mattress and you don't even use it."
Tyler grunted.
"If you don't, I will."
"Nooo." Dammit, Josh always used Tyler's weaknesses against him. He hated other people sleeping in his bed. It hurt to take a deep breath but he had to stretch. "I couldn't sleep. She wouldn't answer my texts."
"Maybe she was busy," Josh offered, taking Tyler's phone. Josh's fingerprint was already registered to Tyler's phone. "She answered, though. See?"
The screen blurred, but he could make it out by squinting.
'I miss you too! I wish I could've seen it. The videos are amazing.'
'Did you fall asleep, baby?'
He wanted to text back but the room shifted horribly. Every bump of the highway shook him almost painfully, and his eyes unfocused. He had to force himself to get up and move, or else he would give Josh an even bigger mess to clean up.
He vomited, thick and burning, like fire in his sinuses and throat. His eyes spilled tears against his will, squeezing out more with each heave. Josh joined him on the tiny bathroom floor, rubbing his back.
He spoke when Tyler finally caught his breath. "Did you eat last night?"
"I had honey," he croaked. So much for that.
"That's not food, Tyler."
His stomach turned at the thought. "It's too early to eat."
Josh sighed. He couldn't force him to eat, especially not after throwing up. "Then go to sleep, but I'm getting you a huge breakfast."
"Ugh."
Tyler sunk into his room, and Josh turned out to be right. It cradled him and all of his sore spots- not perfectly, not like his bed at home, but it was enough to allow him to fall back asleep.
He texted her back after an interview that Tyler struggled to focus through. His hands had nothing to fidget with and he shouldn't have worn a hoodie. The shirt underneath stuck to his back with sweat as soon as he got up from his seat. He nearly folded, wanting to sit on the floor and pull his clothes off over his head. Josh could tell.
"It was so hot in there," He said, leading Tyler to the exit. "I thought the building was on fire or something."
Tyler hummed. The interviewer asked about fire; the new pyrotechnics. He wanted to say he felt like he was on fire all the time, and just wanted the crowd to feel it too. But that might've been mean. And he hated to admit that performing hurt. He opted for "It looked cool."
The show came too soon. Every single step weighed down on him, wading through water, through ocean, through hot honey. He meant every scream from the bottom of his spine. It hurt tonight, and they would hear it. They would hear how deep his pain was buried, and have no idea the kind of pain he was in. He wished he'd written more songs about aching bones and muscles, rather than his mind and heart.
When he bowed, he almost cried with relief. Josh felt it, his hand resting in Tyler's hair rather than the middle of his back.
The screams scorched his throat. The sight of honey disgusted him. He would get over it eventually, but for now he'd have to go back to tea. Josh stayed with him, offering to get up and make more after Tyler finished his cup.
"I'll make it myself," he said, but he wished he'd said yes to Josh's offer. His feet felt bruised; stepping on hot coals.
Josh laid down on the couch and sighed. Tyler stood by the microwave. "My arms hurt so bad."
"Mhmm."
"I smashed my finger on the edge. You know, that like, raised metal bit around the drum?" Josh had a habit of over explaining things Tyler already knew. It irritated him at times, but he couldn't find the energy. "I've got a bandaid now, but it's like, pulsing."
"Gross." The microwave beeped. He took his tea and mixed the golden liquid, watching it spread and swirl.
"I wanna take it off, but it might get infected."
"Dude," Tyler snapped, squeezing in the honey. He couldn't help but find it similar to whatever fluids would come out of Josh's finger.
"Sorry," he chuckled, a sheepish grin on his face. "How's your throat?"
"It's fine." It's raw. "The honey helps."
Josh hummed.
Tyler slept longer that night. His bones protested to stay as he turned to try and wake up to his alarm. For some reason, he had the notion that Jenna was beside him, but she was nowhere to be found, of course. She was all the way back in Ohio. Still, her side of the bed felt colder than usual. His stomach growled, searing.
Food didn't taste like much, but he ate as if he was starving. He might've been. He chased any semblance of flavor, but every bite ended up being blander than the last. If food tasted good, maybe he wouldn't starve himself at times. Maybe his stomach wouldn't have to try digesting itself and scream at him so he would eat. If only his taste buds worked.
He texted her in favor of eating. 'miss you. and your cooking.'
That night, his bass weighed on him heavier than before. He almost wanted to hit the guy who gave it to him. Almost. It wasn't anyone's fault. Maybe Tyler's, for not having a higher pain threshold. The more he held it in, the better it would get, or so he hoped.
Callouses hadn't formed yet, they practically refused. It seemed his body reveled in putting Tyler through pain, even through the preventable stuff. He could barely push the strings down, let alone hold them there. Static filled his mind. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the vibrations, but it went back to the buzzing in his head. He realized then, that the lights made him flinch even with his eyes closed. Had he been flinching the whole time?
Whatever it was, it wrapped around his entire head, and it throbbed. The kick bass of Josh's drum shook Tyler's body like a cabinet of fragile china. Hot fire underneath and inside the display doors make the thin glass and porcelain crack. He wanted so badly to. It would give him relief, to break and scream and cry, right now in front of everyone. They would finally see what he'd been holding in all this time. A visual to his hurt, showing how bad he'd been suffering. They would be forced to see it. Forced to know. Forced to understand and care. They wouldn't blame him if he just fell to his knees and sobbed about going home because it hurt all over all the time. He could, if he wanted to. It was all up to him. If he really wanted to, he could just... go home.
If he really wanted to.
The song ended.
He opened his eyes, his gaze settling on smeared black sharpie scrawled on a fan's palms. 'I'm home.' Their eyes gushed with tears, but their smile just about split their face in half. Skin crinkled at the corners of their eyes and Tyler squinted. The next song started and he took a step back to look at Josh, who instinctively smiled at the singer. He thought those little lines looked familiar. Maybe the fan was right. They were home. Maybe he was home, too. Maybe home just hurt.
Just as Josh did last night, Tyler did the opposite. He entangled his fingers in Josh's curls as they bowed, and the boys stayed down for longer than before. Getting back up and facing the crowd filled Tyler with dread. Did Josh feel the same way?
He could hide away forever. Pretend this didn't hurt, that he enjoyed doing it. No, he loved it, but it hurt. He hated it, but he felt safe. Enjoyment, however, was another can of worms entirely. That depended on if Tyler had it in him to enjoy anything at all.
Josh pulled Tyler back up and hugged him, suddenly. Tyler staggered, unable to fully respond before Josh led him off stage where a stagehand gave them both cold bottles of water. He about choked, the liquid feeling too rough on his throat. He found himself missing raw honey already.
The bus stopped sooner than Tyler expected. He pulled out an earbud and looked up from his laptop to Josh who tapped him.
"We're picking up Jenna, remember?"
"Huh?" Tyler yanked the other earbud out.
"Yeah, you'll get lost if I don't show you where to go though."
Tyler sprung from his seat even if it felt like his bones had been replaced with red hot iron rods. Sure enough, they were right outside of an airport. Tyler wished she was picking him up instead.
His headache didn't leave. The PA system and blazing fluorescent lights glared at his eyes and brain. The two of them sat on the unforgiving tile-- well, Josh sat. Tyler stood on high alert, surveying crowds of people for his person. He shifted from foot to burning foot, electrical shocks going down his thighs each time.
"You're acting like this is your first time meeting her," Josh chuckled. Tyler didn't laugh. His furrowed glare seemed to worsen the ache. "Are you okay?"
"Miss her."
He nodded. "Me too. She always has time and energy for something fun, you know? Even when you're tired or nervous, she has this way of letting you appreciate the small things. 'Cause she appreciates them. It helps the cities not all blend together."
Tyler didn't know Josh felt that way. A smile tugged at his lips, but he pushed it down. Blonde, blonde, blonde...
Someone drew closer but it couldn't have been her. Not so soon. Tyler had to wait longer, he wasn't that lucky. Airport pick ups always took a long--
"Tyler!"
His attention snapped back to her, and he broke into a dead sprint, almost tripping where tile turned to carpet. He thought he'd been shot up with straight adrenaline, setting his veins all ablaze. It both hurt and took all the pain away, and the closer he got, the lighter his feet hit the ground.
The hug winded the both of them, making her stagger and trip over one of her shoes. He didn't care, burying his face in the crook of her neck and keeping her upright.
"I miss you," he admitted finally, to her face, and his felt warm. He stopped breathing for a moment, nuzzling back into her.
"I missed you too!" She pressed kisses to his ear, nipping playfully before he shook his head. He choked on his voice and sniffled.
"No, I miss you."
"Hey, hey, it's okay," she said, softer than before. "I'm here now, I've got you."
"Miss you, miss you, miss you."
Josh finally caught up. He smiled, running fingers through Tyler's hair again. It was soft still, even after a few days without washing it.
She thought back to the texts he kept sending her, rarely an 'I love you.' He kept missing her, it seemed. She wondered if it meant something different. Sometimes Tyler wouldn't say exactly what he meant. Expressing his emotions didn't come easily unless through music. But he couldn't play music over text, couldn't talk about other things that weighed down on his mind. Things that weighed on his body, too. Maybe it wasn't only his heart that hurt sometimes.
"I know it hurts," she tried, and he sobbed harder, squeezing her as tight as he could. His legs wobbled. It did hurt. It hurt so much. If only he could just say it. But she knew how to translate Tyler's complex language. He didn't have to say a word.
She pressed kisses to his temple, and Josh joined on the other side. He knew of Tyler's aches and pains as much as Jenna, because he felt them too. He just didn't want to push him to talk. Looking back, he wished he did, but Tyler seemed comfortable now. He had to plan out the right times to cry and break down. Part of Josh envied that.
"Let's get you back on the bus." She pulled away and held his face in her hands. His choppy breathing still shook his entire body but he tried to still himself. "How is your throat, baby?"
"It's--" he huffed. "It hurts."
Jenna took his hand and pulled him to walk with her. Josh followed, listening intently.
"I'll make you some tea and honey. And what about you, Josh?"
Josh froze up, blush creeping onto his face. Why did she care? She took care of Tyler, not him, but he couldn't help but lean into her comfort. "My arms hurt. Back too, I guess." He said it quieter than before. "It's not the worst... It just hurts to, uh, squeeze my hands."
"Then we'll get you settled in with a heating pack, okay? I brought one in my suitcase."
"O-oh. You didn't have to do all that."
"That's okay. I brought it for you guys."
They piled up on the bus together. She sat the boys next to each other, draping the fuzzy hot pad over Josh's shoulders. His eyes drooped and he giggled at nothing, only moving now to get comfier. Otherwise, Josh stayed fairly still. Tyler couldn't understand how he could want more heat on his body, but to each his own, he supposed.
"What flavor tea, baby?"
He hummed, shaking his head. "Just honey, please."