Chapter Text
A contribution to the class is not in Tyler's priorities. His priorities differ from others. They don't constantly ward off the thoughts that will put him 6 feet underground, They don't feel like talking will bother others around them, They don't have to take pills to get rid of demons. They aren't Tyler Joseph, they don't care what others think about them. Tyler feels he cares to much, anxiety gets the best of him most days.
There's quiet chatter amongst the class, Tyler is afraid they're talking about him.
Nobody really notices he's there, Mr. Urie's called his name 7 times but he's afraid to answer. He's shaking, it feels like he's teetering and his chair is going to tip over constantly. Like going into a garage and not seeing your car, it gets worse throughout the day. He cracks a smile when he pulls up his hoodie, turning on his phone and slowly swiping through apps, fingers trembling on the touch screen. He types letter after letter, he's just trying to get away from the demons. He drowns the smile, but not to a frown, just a tight pressed line when he taps a specific video.
"Good morning, My Clique!" Tyler smiles slowly, knowing that the term Clique makes him feel warm inside. Like it's a second home. Especially after him. Him, SpookyJim, who's real name is Josh but that's not important. He turns in his chair, pursing his lips as Tyler watches. "So…don't you think it's weird that we all talk about sleep, but we never actually sleep? I mean, my Tumblr blog only talks about sleeping and fluffy dogs, but I have insomnia for a matter of fact, I never want to sleep anyway and I'm a cat person. Send me your cats. I want to pet your cats." He bluntly states, Tyler tugs on his beanie just a little. "I will be your best friend if you let pet your cat or cats, because 's' indicates plural and the more cats, the better. They don't have cats in juvy, that's going to be my next topic. Bring cats to juvy. If I am an avid habitué of juvy about 17 times within the last year, then I think they should let me bring cats." Tyler calms, no more voices singing a chorus in the back of his mind. Tyler writes on his whiteboard, some thoughts on SpookyJim.
-He's cute.
-He lives in another state.
-He wears flower crowns and likes cats.
-Why is he so beautiful?
Tyler leaves slowly once the bell rings, carrying his whiteboard and books, phone leaning atop his textbook. He storms through like a vignette looms around him, nobody else feels this way. Headphones put in when he sits at the lunch table, poking dismally at his salad. He doesn't bother eating, he feels too gross. Why?
"Okay, so when I was younger, I wanted to kidnap Aaron Carter. Like, just take him home, not do anything to him, just make him sing the Jimmy Neutron soundtrack. You know? On the subject of childhood, why is it that we have this one smell that brings us back to kindergarten? And you can't fuckin' sell it because nobody else knows it like you do. Like, 'you aren't experiencing this fragrance right, it's not supposed to remind you of a field trip, it's supposed to remind you of the day Edward tripped on the playground!' I guess it's time for science." He shrugs, Tyler blushes when he puts on a fake pair of glasses and a bow tie. "It is called Olfactory memory, by the way. It's science, it's real. So no, you are not crazy for saying 'you smell like 2005' to somebody. The more you know, My Clique. Now, I have some news for you guys!" He high kicks his leg and Tyler screeches internally for the brief thought that he is not wearing underwear. "The guys down at the police station are taking me off house arrest, so I can actually meet you guys!" He smiles, eyes crinkling just a bit at the sides and Tyler is almost gushing over him. "If you're fairly local to the Barnes and Noble on the corner of William and Robert, down in punk town Columbus, Ohio, we can hang out." Tyler shows no hesitation smiling and thinking if he has any plans to cancel that day.
"He's so precious." Tyler mumbles, Brendon darts his head up. He locks eyes with Tyler, lips parted in a gasp.
"Did you just--?" Tyler can see the 'oh my god' in his mind. Tyler's face goes red, he quickly scribbles no on the whiteboard, turning it around for Brendon to see. "…you spoke." he's going to make a big deal out of everything now. "Oh my god." Tyler sits as Brendon leaves the table, dragging Ryan to follow him. "Do it again, Ty." He says it like Tyler's his animal. It disgusts Tyler, but he doesn't voice it. Tyler doesn't say anything.
"I mean, I--I've been better." He yawns, closing his eyes and laying down. "--I guess it's anxiety eating me or maybe it's just the fact that I don't really have any friends? Like, I have friends but they aren't friends, you feel? I--I could tell you a million people I've met in my school, but none of them text or call me. They don't follow me on social media, they say hi in the hallway but they'd never be partners with me in class. There's nothing wrong with me, I just don't really have anybody to share late night conversations with." Tyler shrugs, talking to the wall he devotes his time to staring at. He swings his feet on the foot of the bed, humming a melody to himself. He knows he can't keep the melody for too long. He plays it on piano, retains it better, marks the keys.
I've been inside my head for too long. I might as well start talking to Joy, Anger, Sadness, Disgust and Fear.
He wanders around, he's not lost, just….well, that's a feeling that just as hard to explain as water tastes. There's no real name for it. Catharsis? maybe. There's a small flash of sprint inside, this doesn't happen too often and if it goes away too soon, he doesn't know when it'll come back. He looks up, rolling off the bed and leaving the piano. Fingers dragging lightly on the keys, soft melody playing as a riff. He places the paper down on the table, the songwriting desk with the strange lamp that looks like a skeleton. He pops the cap of the sharpie, thinking before he writes.
Can't be stupid, but then again, putting up a flier asking for a best friend sounds stupid. If not stupid, desperate, but he needs this. He writes and crosses things out, the lines never perfectly linear, there aren't any lines on the paper, it's blank and that makes writing harder. It starts off good, the line he follows going okay and
then
it doesn't.
[To whom it possibly concerns!
My name is Tielr Tyler Joseph and I am looking for a friend. Jeez,
that sounds BAD.]
[To whom it may concern!
My name is Tyler Jipjop Jospshe Joseph and nope. nope. not doing this at all.]
Okay, so real talk time. Friends, I guess we got 'em but I don't. Throw me a pity party if you want, but that's not my concern. I need a friend. Someone to have late night conversations about the meaning of life with. Not boyfriend material, I just need a friend. A best friend, if you will. Here are the basics about me:
I have eyes. and a mouth. and a face in general. I don't speak, if I do, it's eXTrEMeLY RaRE (like a Pepe the Frog). I like getting stoned in trees, I fuckin' love SpookyJim on Youtube and Chipotle is pretty good but I favor Taco Bell. I like to wear black because my soul is cold and black retains heat. Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. My name is Tyler. Tyler Joseph and I guess you don't have to answer this, but if you do, please be serious. I fear the joke more than I fear actual rejection. I guess I'll just leave my number at the bottom if you want it. Stay Street.
-Me. (Tyler Joseph)
He yawns, ripping off the outtakes and looking at the finished product. It's a mess, but a mess he can deal with. He rolls his eyes, folding up the paper in his pocket and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, white straps over a lazily thrown on hoodie. It's not cold outside, it's fairly warm for March. He steps lightly on the ground, wondering how long this good mood is going to last because it might not stay too long. There's a voice telling him inside his mind. Reassuring things because something about Josh's voice is soothing. You can do it, Buddy! Sometimes that's all Tyler needs.
The coffeeshop isn't crowded, but it's not empty. It's warm, scents of vanilla waft albeit strongly through the building. He breezes past the crowd of girls ordering oddly specific drinks and the guys trying to score a date. Looking to the cork board wall of missing cats posters and lawn care services, he pins it under where you'd never find it if you weren't observant. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaving. Something about this place screams something awful to Tyler.
Wow, I probably should've stayed inside my house.
He turns on his phone, probably deciding to watch videos until he falls asleep or his phone dies. He takes a deep breath, panic washing over but he calms when he remembers the Barnes and Nobles. Across town where he can finally meet the one person that makes life good for him. He holds the whiteboard in his hands, red and black markers on the sides. It takes a few hours, him warring with himself between watching videos and writing how thoughts down until he decides to take down the flier and rip it into little shreds. Starting on foot, out the house he think's he's heading south.
He stays low, opening the doors and feeling his heart flip out his goddamn chest when he sees the note is missing. oh god. no. nononnonnonononononononono. Oh my frick.
He goes flustered, sliding into a booth and almost shaking. they're probably gonna prank call me. wouldn't doubt it. He lays his head down on the table, the darkness outside of the doors seeming to grip Tyler until he feels the tap on his shoulder. He's clutching the flier, wet and crinkled in his hand. Tyler panics, dropping his phone on the floor beside the Caution: Wet Floor sign. Tyler knows him. It's him. Owner of the Clique. Josh.
He puts a hand behind his head, smiling sheepishly. "I--I read the flier. You don't have to say anything, I guess….uh…" Tyler can see awkwardness pouring out of him. Josh sets the flier down on the table, sliding into the booth opposite of Tyler. "….I spilled coffee all over it." He shrugs, looking off to the side. Tyler calms himself, writing small words on the whiteboard.
but theres a bite mark taken out of it
He holds up the flier, pointing to the crescent shape at the left corner, small dashed lines to indicate teeth.
did …did you try to eat the paper?
"Wait, heck no. No, my--dog bit it." Tyler smiles, Josh thinks he believed him. That's not it. Tyler's smiling because Josh's videos never talk about a dog. But he does know Josh has a cat. An introverted cat named Spork, who had kittens named Spoon, Fork and Knife. Tyler knows too much about Josh. But maybe it's a good thing that Josh doesn't know anything about Tyler.
"I--You know who I am, I'm guessing." He laughs softly, Tyler blushes. "….I'm here to apply for the best friend position." He grins. Tyler nods. "We begin now. Say hello to your new best friend!" Josh smiles and Tyler slips his phone into his pocket, reminding himself to change his wallpaper. It'd be strange to have your new best friend as your pastel wallpaper.
Well at least Tyler's got a best friend now.