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Josh really thinks this might be the end of his career.
He should’ve picked up that drumstick, to begin with. It flew out of his hand and landed on the deck in front of him, but he didn’t let it distract him. So the drumstick stayed in place until the last song. There’s always something special about “Trees”, every tour, every time. A show in Cleveland, Ohio, is no exception. They put into the final song all of their energy when they’ve got nothing left to receive a storm of emotions from the pit. And the rain of confetti never gets old.
And he should have done something about that stupid stick.
But Josh wanted to be professional because this is what Tyler always says,
“Focus on the thing you’re good at.”
Josh is good at being a truly passionate drummer.
Tyler is not good at looking where he steps.
Blinded by the lights, he runs, he slips, and he falls, making Josh gasp and nearly drop another drumstick. His attention is locked on Tyler’s crumpled figure, hugging the ego riser to stay on stage. His body lands awkwardly on the metal surface, rolling forward, and only his stubbornness and a sudden awakening of his self-preservation instinct help him finally steady himself. The mic hits the ground, slipping out of Tyler’s hand. Josh can’t read Tyler’s emotions from the distance, too focused on not fucking up the rest of the show.
Tyler would never let him live this down.
He feels so bad.
“There’s no way it was a drumstick, I hope it wasn’t a drumstick, no way,” echoes in Josh’s mind.
Tyler gets up and grabs the microphone, Tyler rushes back to the riser on his piano side, picking up the drumstick in the process and tossing it into the crowd.
And Josh thinks, “ouch.”
And Josh thinks, “yeah, this is it. This is the end of my career.”
***
They finish the show, and the damage is still unclear. They did the platforms and the whole drumming stunt, they did their bows and said their so-are-yous without batting an eye. But the weight of anxiety crashes on Josh’s shoulders as soon as they step into the backstage corridor.
“Medic, we need a medic,” their techs fuss too much and speak too much. “Josh, are you coming?”
“Sure he’s coming, he’s family,” Tyler sounds annoyed. Only now, he’s allowing himself to limp.
Family, still. They got not-so-secretly married during the pre-Trench hiatus when they needed time to get used to the new pace of life. And then the pandemic shook up the planet like a fishbowl, locking them together in Tyler’s house. They thought they’d start fighting and make each other nervous, but they only rediscovered their feelings for each other instead. They just let their little world grow, touring together, then touring with Jim, then with one kid, then with two. Josh will take them from Jenna tomorrow, to slip back into their regular parent routine. There’s still an official announcement to make, but they’re not rushing things.
Josh hopes their marriage isn’t coming to an end along with the summer.
Josh fumbles with the ring on his finger; unlike Tyler, he never takes it off. It’s not bothering him. Tyler just finds safety in weird places of his mind sometimes. And they both have very strained relationships with the stage risers. Josh scratches the back of his head as unpleasant memories flood his brain.
Mark’s filming the whole thing, of course, he’s filming; by the time Josh enters the dressing doom, Tyler already sits on the leather couch with his pants rolled down to his ankles.
“My name’s Tyler and this is the “sprain your ankle on Josh’s drumstick” trick,” he half sighs and half scoffs into the camera lens.
Josh rubs his forehead and flops onto the cushion next to Tyler. A long scratch on his left elbow is oozing with blood, and so is his busted left knee, and his right ankle looks far too bony as he takes off the sock. Tyler had it sprained before, he knows how it feels, so he’s staying calm about it. It’s not a sprain this time. He can walk. But this adrenaline is weird, he says. Josh knows a thing or two about pain and shock too; he helps Tyler keep his foot lifted with the pillows propping it up. Tyler almost rolls his eyes at this.
Josh somehow feels more pathetic than Tyler looks.
“Dude, no,” Josh raises his arms in defense when Tyler suddenly bursts into uncontrollable laughter. He didn’t hit his head, did he?
“I can’t believe I slipped on your drumstick of all things,” Tyler throws his head back and covers his eyes with his forearm, sagging on the couch. “Did it look cool?”
“Graceful,” Josh lies. It looked like Tyler was going to snap his neck if he made one wrong move. Tyler understands.
“Make sure our kids never see this.”
“I’ll tell Mark to make a video edit for them,” Josh chuckles, relieved. Cranky Tyler is his favorite Tyler sometimes.
Mark shows them a peace sign from behind the camera.
“I’m standing right here.”
Mark is their full-time chronicler. Josh feels guilty for all the things he unwittingly had to witness while hanging out with them. He takes a few pictures, promising to put the best shot in a frame and present it for their next anniversary.
“You have no pity for a sick old man,” Tyler groans.
Mark shrugs.
“You’d kill me if I did.”
They just know each other so well.
Tyler’s legs are secured in the pile of ice packs as their crew leaves them alone in the dressing room. Their parents saw the fall, there’s going to be lots of awkward phone calls and canceled meetings this evening.
“We’re playing the show tomorrow,” Tyler answers Josh’s unasked question. “I won’t do the air mattress because I doubt I’ll be able to bend my left knee, but I’ll do everything else. Won’t even mention what happened.”
It’s not just a string of shows, one of the many; they want to make each show special.
Tyler aches and Josh’s heart aches for him. He takes Tyler’s hand and squeezes it gently; he makes sure that the ice packs won’t slide. This tour is indeed icy now. They’re sitting so close Josh can feel Tyler’s erratic pulse; sure thing, he was scared too. He’s a lucky one to have come back in one piece. And Josh is lucky to have him as his bandmate, friend, partner. Josh is not getting kicked out of the band tonight it seems, but it doesn’t make the whole situation less dangerous. No bones were broken, but Tyler will never say how badly his joints hurt sometimes. This is not the first time he’s injured his elbow too — his left one always takes the hit.
Honestly, Josh expected Tyler to be mad. At himself mostly, and he can see the signs of it; the nervous bounce of his bruised knee, the way he’s pulling at his hair again. If Josh thinks he could’ve picked up the stick, then Tyler thinks he should’ve seen the future to prevent the fall all along.
“It was all my fault,” Josh blurts out as Tyler leans against him to rest before dressing up.
Tyler sniffles,
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
Josh kisses his temple and offers, pressing his lips to Tyler’s ear,
“Dinner?”
“Dinner my ass,” Tyler replies with such eloquent intonation that the schedule of their tonight activities becomes clear for Josh. This is exactly what Tyler means. He adds, “I need you to fuck the pain out of me.”
Tyler’s puns are horrible and so is his flirting and this is why Josh is so in love with him. He should start writing down his quotes for their new family history, but Josh thought nothing will ever top that one time when Tyler called him “a master of sticks”. One of them didn’t behave today. If Josh said that out loud, Tyler would say something like, “and another one is waiting for its time.”
Josh suddenly gets too hot and sweaty again.
Tyler takes an ice pack off his knee. The cut isn’t bleeding anymore, but the swell around the kneecap remains concerning. Josh will give him a piggyback ride all the way to the bus, it’s not even a topic to discuss. In fact, he’s going to carry Tyler off the stage every night until his bruises fade. He knows Tyler will secretly enjoy it.
Josh himself would like to take a long shower and convince himself that everything is fine. It’s much easier to do when he’s lying under the covers with Tyler.
Josh reaches for his phone on the glass table.
“I’ll tweet about how strong you are.”
“Tag me,” Tyler simply says.
He’s gonna roast Josh for it later.