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Nobody had warned Josh how hard touring would be. It was amazing getting to perform for different people night after night. They had a lot of fun crammed in the van, hauling equipment onto stages, and setting up for their shows. It seemed like every show, a few more people knew a few more words to their songs. A few more people showed up. It was encouraging and it drove them to extend their first real stretch of a tour from eight dates to fifteen.
Which was a good thing. Josh kept telling himself that having enough money to do more shows was a good thing. Going farther from home, farther from familiarity, was a good thing. Being this bone-achingly exhausted, running on fumes, and adrenaline, and taco bell for the fifth time in a week, it was all good.
But if it was so good, why did Josh feel like he was going to lose the chicken quesadilla he’d just forced himself to eat while Mark sped down I-94 towards Milwaukee? They were running late for a show where they were on a bill with seven other bands, which meant they wouldn’t have time to sound check, which meant they’d be going on stage tonight completely dry, and the pounding headache that Josh had been ignoring for the better part of the last three days was creeping down his skull, and into the muscles of his neck, and shoulders, seeping into his sinuses and his eyes kept stinging and God-
“Josh?” Tyler asked, pulling Josh from the racing thoughts. It was only then that Josh fully became aware of his body. Sometime between eating his quesadilla and now, Josh had found himself leaning forward in his seat in the van, tucking his head against the back of the driver’s seat. His arms were curled tightly around his ribs and he was breathing hard.
“Hmmm?” Josh managed to breathe through the swell of nausea and panic that struck him. In the front seat Mark and Michael were quietly trying to decide if Mark needed to pull off the highway.
“You good, man?” Josh felt the light brush of Tyler’s fingertips against his sweaty back. Josh took another breath in through his nose. White spots appeared behind his eyelids and he pressed his palms hard into his eye sockets.
“I’m…no,” Josh groaned weakly.
“Shit,” Tyler said, and Josh felt a shudder of new anxiety sprout at the tone of frustration Josh heard. He knew Tyler was thinking about the show, what they would do if they’d driven all the way out of their way to Milwaukee of all places only for Josh to get sick and not be able to drum.
“Pull over, Mark, he’s gonna puke.” Michael was saying from where he was turned around in the front passenger seat.
“I’m sorry-” Josh groaned, and tears sprung up in his eyes. His stomach cramped, his muscles ached, his body burned and froze at the same time and he couldn’t breathe.
“Dude, are we all gonna get food poisoning? I do not wanna puke. I hate puking,” Mark was saying as he pulled over. Tyler was opening the sliding door of the back of the van before the wheels were even stopping. Josh had unbuckled his seat belt and was taking ragged breaths. He was too nauseous to tell Mark that he was certain that they didn’t need to worry about food poisoning.
This was Josh making himself sick, working himself up in his head so much that he physically couldn’t take it. He’d wound himself up to thoughts of missing home, thoughts of things he missed, worries that he wasn’t cut out for the dream he so desperately wanted. Fear of disappointing Tyler. It had all spun into a giant storm inside his head, where it festered in that stupid fucking headache that advil wouldn’t touch. And now it was attacking his stomach. How was he supposed to tell the boys in the van with him that this was all just because of his own head?
Tyler hopped out of the van, leaving Josh space to climb out himself as he felt a roll in his stomach again. This time he didn’t try to suppress the feeling or push it down. He stepped further off the side of the road, into the tall grass, and leaned forward, allowing his body to convulse and rid the anxiety and the food and everything it could from inside of him.
Maybe when it was over, when he’d emptied the contents of his stomach, Josh would feel clear headed. Maybe his head would stop hurting.
But his head only pounded harder when he finally stood back up straight again. His body shook from the exertion of all of his muscles tensing at once. He was sweaty and cold and-
“-Dude!” Josh yelped, covering his mouth with his hand.
Tyler was standing directly behind him, his brow and jaw were both set in such concentration that he almost looked angry. He jumped in surprise in response to Josh jumping in surprise, and raised his hands defensively.
“I was…checking on you,” Tyler said slowly. It took another beat before Josh realized that Tyler was so close to Josh, maybe, because he had been pumping himself up to rub Josh’s back. Josh’s face felt hot again and he put the back of his hand against his forehead.
“I’m fine,” Josh said in an incredibly unconvincing voice. He brushed past Tyler, but the slight connection of their shoulders knocked Josh off balance. With how weak he was it was enough to almost send him to the hard ground. Tyler caught his wrist, stopping him from falling, his eyes hard on Josh.
“No you’re not. What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all day. And yesterday. You’re not all the way here,” Tyler said, and the bluntness of the words felt like a slap in the face to Josh. He’d thought he had done a decent job covering up the constantly growing anxiety inside of him, but of course Tyler had seen right through it.
“I don’t know,” Josh said hoarsely. His throat felt tight, and tears stung at his eyes again. He blinked. “I don’t know if I can do this, Tyler. I’m not cut out for it like you are.”
The words felt like a revelation, an admission that Josh had been circling for this entire tour, coming closer and closer as he’d grown more tired and more afraid of the success that they were having. Saying it out loud released some of the pressure in his chest and he exhaled slowly as Tyler stared straight back at him, impossible to read in this moment.
“Of course you are,” Tyler said dismissively. “You’re doing it, Josh. What do you mean you don’t know if you can? We are doing it.” Tyler sounded mildly annoyed and Josh tried to force down the anxiety that rose with the tone of Tyler’s voice.
“I feel like I’m barely hanging on to my sanity right now. And the way things are going…we’re going to be doing this more and more, and away from home more and more, and that’s fucking scary to me, Ty. I’m scared.” Josh’s voice cracked this time and he brought his hands to his eyes, trying to keep the tears that were threatening away.
Without saying anything, Tyler closed the last step between him and Josh. There, on the side of the highway, with Josh’s mouth still sour from his vomit, his body aching and trembling and sweating, with cars speeding past them, Tyler grabbed Josh and pulled him into the tightest hug Josh had ever felt. He wasn’t sure he had ever needed something so badly.
Tyler’s arms wrapped around Josh from above, and Josh collapsed into Tyler’s shoulder, finally allowing the tears to fall. His arms clung to the back of Tyler’s shirt, and Tyler squeezed Josh’s shoulders tightly. He didn’t know how long they stood like this, but eventually Tyler started to speak to Josh.
“It’s really scary,” He said first, his voice soft in Josh’s ear. His arms were still strong around him. “The idea that this could be our whole life. That we’ll be going farther away. That more people know us. It’s really really scary. But isn’t it exactly what we’ve wanted, Josh? It’s what you’ve wanted.” His voice was firm but kind. Josh clung to the words, because he knew Tyler was right.
“You’re scared?” Josh asked in a small voice.
“I’m terrified, Josh. But I know that we can do it. I know we can. Because it’s you and me.” His grip on Josh’s shoulders tightened for a moment, emphasizing his statement. “I can’t do this with anyone but you, Josh.”
Josh pulled away from Tyler, wiping at his watery eyes and snotty nose. He didn’t want to admit how hard he’d been crying into Tyler’s shoulder, but his shirt was wet from it. Tyler didn’t care. He was staring seriously at Josh. “Are we going to do this together?” Tyler asked him.
Josh took a deep breath, and shook his hands out, trying to release the last of the panic in his body. He looked into Tylers brown, solid, certain eyes. Behind the certainty, Tyler was scared too. He could see the fear, the anxiety, the anticipation of the rest of their lives ahead of them, and Josh didn’t feel so alone. He nodded slowly.
“Yeah. We’re going to do this together.”
Tyler clapped Josh on the shoulder “Come on then.” Tyler’s voice was gentle once more, and he pulled Josh along with him back to the van. Michael and Mark had gotten back in their seats a while ago and didn’t ask Tyler or Josh what had happened. When Tyler instructed Mark to pull over at the Love’s gas station up the freeway a ways, Mark didn’t ask why. Mark and Michael also didn’t question Josh slumping down against Tyler, settling into the back seat with his head in his lap.
Tyler sent Michael into Love’s for a ginger ale and a gatorade, and while Josh sat in the back seat and Tyler stroked his hair, Josh wondered why he’d ever felt homesick. Being here, laying back, with Tyler taking care of him and his head resting on Tyler’s thigh, he had never felt more at home.