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They aren’t exactly sure whose idea it was, they just know they’re here, and it’s happening. It’s already been decided. Josh had been biting his nails all day, the opaque material now jagged and blunt in some areas, bleeding slightly in others where he may have accidentally missed the nail itself and found soft, too soft, skin instead. Tyler’s own fingers had frequently found themselves twisting tufts of pink cotton candy hair between them, thumb and index working together as if to rub the hair into a pink sugary dust.
They were going to drown.
Maybe they weren’t going to actually drown. It was controlled, it would be safe, and they had multiple officials there just in case any of the “what ifs” decided to become a reality. And they had plenty of them, particularly Josh. Josh had made his list of “what ifs” very clear to Tyler, he had since the idea had first been vaguely mentioned one night, back at the hotel they had rented for the length of the filming process.
“What if I drown?” he had said to him, strong yet frail arms wrapped around his torso, head laying on the other’s shoulder.
“You’re not going to drown.” he had promised, fingers carding through the dark brown curls of the older, down to the curls near the nape of his neck.
“What if I can’t breathe, and I drown? Oh God, what if no one hears me? What if no one notices?”
“You’re not going to drown, Josh.”
He did drown that night, in the mess of endless tears that defied him and broke past the dams of his eyes. They soaked his cheeks, dampening the shoulder of the strong, yet frail, pink haired boy holding him so, so, closely to himself.
But that was days ago. They couldn’t put this off anymore, they had to face it. He had to face it. They needed to get this done. They had only really released one teaser, and even that wasn’t definite enough to signify a whole music video was to come. Both of them had been watching Twitter closely after first posting that blurry snapshot in LA, wanting to see who would catch on the fastest.
So far, no one had a clue of what was ahead. Sure, some had gathered that a music video could possibly be in the works, but this was so different from anything they’ve put out before. They knew it was a bit of a risk in doing so, doing their best to be conscious about both the financial and the emotional tolls this could have on them.
And yet here they were, dressed in raincoats that really seemed too expensive to even be allowed to be worn in the rain, staring at the set. Tyler’s eyes glanced over to his best friend, to the nail currently being shredded between his teeth. His teeth were too perfect to be the cause of such destruction. Too perfect to be destroyed themselves by constantly gnawing on such a material. His eyes fell to his other hand, a shaky half-fist clenched closely to his side. He could practically see the anxiety radiating off of his body, like a misty toxic cloud of smoke.
He knew he was anxious, they both did, there was no way to ignore it. Days before, one day before, on the way here, and even now, Josh had shown in some way how nervous and fearful he was for today. He didn’t want to flat out admit he really didn’t feel this was a good idea, he wanted to be there for his friend, his best friend. He would do anything for Tyler. Anything would have to include being fully submerged underwater while trying his best to play the drums and would have to include not thinking about the possibility of becoming trapped with no way out.
Tyler knew how he felt, he’d be lying if he didn’t feel similar about the whole idea, not because he was anxious and fearful himself, but because he didn’t want to see Josh in that situation. Didn’t want to look over and see the fear in his eyes as the water crept higher and higher, getting closer and closer to swallowing all the oxygen they had left.
They started simple, opting for some more promotional photos for the video before jumping into filming the actual thing.
“This part will be easy,” they said, “It’s only up to your waist, it’ll be easy.”
The water made Josh’s pants feel weird, sticking to his legs in some places but not others. It felt uncomfortable. It felt wrong. But seeing Tyler’s gentle smirk from the corner of his eye as they waded into the small pool made it easier, hearing him whisper “this will be easy” as they leaned back into the water, their hair fraying out like dead rope knots, made it even easier. Feeling Tyler’s fingers ghost his hand before allowing himself to let his fingers slip between his own and receive a slight squeeze, turning his head slightly to see Tyler smiling at the sky with his eyes closed, as if this was normal, as if they were anywhere but here, that made it the easiest.
The pictures were easy.
They went back to their trailer, drying off and taking a lunch break.
“Doing alright?” Tyler said nonchalantly, more to the floor than to Josh, currently hunched over in a folding chair rubbing a towel aggressively into his hair.
Josh nodded in response as he bit into a sandwich, slightly soggy from his not totally dry hands, before realizing it wasn’t visible, “I guess so. Thanks for that by the way, in the pool.”
“For what?” Tyler replied, causing them both to smile.
Tyler never made a big deal out of these things, knowing if he were to, it’d draw more attention to everything, making it all worse. Josh was thankful for Tyler in these moments.
Josh stared at his drum set in the submarine. It wasn’t an actual submarine, but there were walls on all sides rather than a three-walled set they happened to use most of the time. And a ceiling. And a floor. It was like a box, a fish tank. The drums made it so he would be lower to the ground, he would be under the water first, under the water the longest. Josh stared at his drum set as everything faded away, soon seeing himself floating in circles at the top of the water, like a dead fish.
Tyler’s hand was on his shoulder, Josh’s head quickly snapping towards the new pressure.
“Good?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”
An exchange of nods, and then Josh was sitting on the stool behind the set, Tyler on the “X” marked on the floor with tape, a microphone in hand. He seemed so far away. Too far away. Josh wished he could stand up and run to him, hold him. Be held by him. Have his hands in his hair, raking through, taking, pulling it all away from his brain. His heart was in his throat.
“Alright, let’s run this through again. Let’s add the water this time, yeah?”
Josh heard the voice, but it was muffled and it too seemed awfully far away. Like it was under water. He stared at Tyler, inspecting the microphone as though he’s never held one in his life.
Look at me. Look at me. Please, look at me.
Josh’s leg began to bounce.
He heard the backing track begin to play, yet he was convinced there had to have been something in his ears. It was muffled, far, gone. His arms were moving anyways, and he hoped with all his might he was playing it right. Looking around, that seemed to be true. The cameras were rolling, pointing at himself and at Tyler. Was he singing? His lips were moving. His chest was moving. Josh couldn’t hear anything. He drummed harder.
He felt water drops, sprinkling and dusting his skin, replacing every freckle with a sample of the earth’s tears. He squeezed his eyes shut. He felt rain, he felt a storm, a wave, a hurricane. He drummed harder. He couldn’t breathe. His hair was sticking to his neck, his forehead, behind his ears. His sticks were slipping from his hands, he held on tighter. The hurricane surrounded him, roaring past his ears. He couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t breathe.
The water rose up over his foot, up past his ankle.
He dared himself to open his eyes. Tyler was there.
Look at me. Look at me. Please, oh please, look at me.
The hurricane surrounded him too. His lips still moved, his chest still rose and fell, and Josh still couldn’t hear, still couldn’t breathe. Josh was on a marry-go-round, spinning, spinning, spinning. Everything was moving so quickly, everything was spinning, Tyler was spinning, Josh was spinning. The water kept rising.
Higher now, higher, faster. Up past his knee, reaching his thighs. Up to his navel, his ribs, his chest. He looked at Tyler. The water barely over his own stomach, yet his lips kept moving, his chest kept moving, he kept breathing. Josh couldn’t hear, he couldn’t breathe. He tilted his head back, not even realizing he was gasping for air this whole time as the water finally reached his chin.
You’re not going to drown. You’re not going to drown, Josh.
His eyes closed again, head tilted fully back before taking a deep breath, the water finally going up past his head. Now everything was quiet. He knew everything was quiet, this time he really was underwater. This time, things really were far away and muffled. He couldn’t hear the backing track, couldn’t hear the drums, couldn’t hear Tyler singing, he could never hear Tyler singing.
He was drowning. Not in the water, not yet, but in anxiety and paranoia, in fear and the box, the fish tank with no escape. He couldn’t feel the waves anymore. He needed air, he needed to get out of here. He needed Tyler. He needed his arms around him, holding him, grounding him, whispering things into his ear as though the air in his voice would find its way to his lungs through doing so.
“Tyler!”
Nothing but bubbles.
“Ty-” more muffled bubbles.
He opened his eyes, Tyler was under now too. Staring at him with wide eyes.
“Tyler!”
Tyler was swimming away, away and up. Up, up, up. Tyler was floating, shouting something. Shouting, shouting, shouting.
Josh tried to meet him there, tried to meet him at the top, hear what he was saying. He pushed himself upwards off the floor, but he didn’t go up. He didn’t go up, up, up. He stayed down. He stayed down. Why was he down? Why was he staying down?
His shoelace had gotten caught on part of the set. It wouldn’t let go. He tried to toe off his shoe with his other foot, it wouldn’t come off. He cursed himself for tying his shoes so tight. He swam back down, attempting to get his lace off of the tiniest bolt in the set. His heart was pumping, pounding. It was the only thing he could hear in his ears. His hands were shaking, they wouldn’t work with the rest of his body, they wouldn’t get the lace off.
Josh couldn’t breathe.
Another hand had brushed his own, and he looked up again to see Tyler, eyebrows slightly furrowed in focus. He wouldn’t look at him. His cheeks were puffed slightly, full of air. His hair flowed around like a mermaid. He was beautiful. His hands were working faster and harder than Josh’s probably ever would be able to, never once looking at him.
Josh couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.
*
“Hey, look at me. Look at me. Please? Look at me”
Josh could hear a voice. He could hear a voice.
He moved a little, hearing a soft fabric shift around as he did so. He wasn’t dry.
“Josh, Joshua, please? Look at me, please, oh please, look at me.”
It was a whisper, almost silent, but he could hear it.
He could feel a soft hand brushing his hair back away from his forehead, pushing the wet sticky curls away from his skin. It continued through his hair, though, taking and pulling everything away from his brain.
His eyes began to flutter open, slowly adjusting to the light in the room, despite there only being light from the sun pouring in through the window. There was someone there, head resting on the bed, arm raised and hand carding through curls. His curls. They had waves on their head, pretty pink waves. Cotton candy waves.
“Ty-” he began to speak, voice horse and barely there at all, coming out as a cry more than anything else.
“Josh..” a voice whispered back.
He sat up suddenly, quickly. Shaking, hands shaking, fingers shaking, like a small box of raisins, pruned and wet. His heart made its way into his throat for the second time. He was gasping for air again, but nothing would come his way. Nothing would go to his lungs, and they sat there. Empty, burning.
“Josh, look at me.”
Chest heaving, Josh turned his head to look at the figure that was previously resting on the bed. Their hand was slowly creeping towards his face, cupping the side of it as he looked at them.
“Come here…” Their thumb brushed over his cheek, and he was slowly being pulled towards their chest, Tyler’s chest, towards his warm safe body.
They’ve talked before about what to do and what not to do when Josh gets this way. This was something to do. This wasn’t a want, but a need. A desperate need, and had been since they had first waded into that waist deep pool.
Strong yet frail arms were wrapped around his torso, a hand on the back of his head, playing with the small curls near the nape of his neck. Josh was gasping, sputtering, crying. Josh was drowning.
“With me.” Tyler whispered, and then he was taking a deep breath, chest rising and falling, breathing.
Josh listened to the pounding of a heart that wasn’t his own, a heart at home in another chest, a breathing chest. He tried to copy the breathing.
Tyler was whispering things into his ear, maybe even secretly hoping the air from his breath would find home in Josh’s lungs through doing so.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, beautiful. I’m sorry.” He’d whisper, over and over as he gently rocked them both. After a minute or so, he turned his head and placed a soft kiss to the top of Josh’s forehead, letting it linger for a while, letting it soak into his skin.
Josh could finally breathe.
“‘s okay… sorry I couldn’t do it.” Josh whispered back, though there was barely any sound at all. His eyes were wet.
He only got a variety of “shh”, “you’re okay”, and “no one’s mad at you, I’m not mad at you” as a response. Josh turned his head this time, tilting it upwards slightly to place a similar lingering kiss under Tyler’s chin before returning to rest his head on his shoulder, becoming a mess of endless tears that defied him and broke past the dams of his eyes. They soaked his cheeks, dampening the shoulder of the strong, yet frail, pink haired boy holding him so, so, closely to himself.
Josh felt small in his arms. He felt as though he was sinking into the other boy, sinking and falling deep into love. Hidden away from everyone in that small metal trailer, he was drowning. Drowning in the embrace of his best friend, drowning in the love of his best friend. Drowning in love. And it was okay.