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“So when are you going to find me a wife?”
“I will whenever you’re ready. Just say the word.”
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Tyler went to church every Sunday. Sometimes other days throughout the week when he really needed it. He sang in the choir. He led Bible studies. There’s no reason under the sun this should’ve been happening to him. This wasn’t a thing that happened to good Christian boys. It happened to sinners, and he wasn’t a sinner.
While his secular friends were out partying and drinking, he stayed at home torn between going over Bible verses and writing music. The way he compromised was writing songs about his faith. Singing hymns was one thing. Penning your own songs to declare your devoutness was the next step that not everyone was fortunate enough to take. God had blessed him with a voice that “sounded like a chorus of angels” according to his mother. He thought she was only saying that because she had to.
But then Josh started saying it too.
He had met Josh after he came to a Twenty One Pilots show. Before their introduction by Chris, he was just another face in the crowd. One that passed in a blur as Tyler thrashed around the stage, his gaze not lingering long enough on any one particular individual to retain any details.
After his set, he took time to cool down before starting the laborious task that was packing up the equipment. A tap landed on his shoulder. He looked up, seeing Chris and some guy he didn’t recognize.
Tyler squinted as he took in his appearance. Messy dark brown hair. Or black. He couldn’t tell under the shoddy lighting that was never good for detail work like this. Details aside, the guy looked exactly like the types of someone his mom would’ve been overly cautious of, warning him to stay away. He was shocked the guy had no tattoos. At least not any visible to him.
“This is Josh,” Chris said, motioning with his head towards the guy who he now had a name to match the face of.
“We work together. I invited him to the show tonight. He said he had to meet you after seeing that performance. Isn’t that right, Josh?”
Josh’s head bounced eagerly. He possessed a lightness Tyler himself wasn’t in possession of. Intrigued, he stopped giving attention to the bundle of cables in his hands and turned to Josh as Josh rambled on.
“—and you were awesome up there, man. Really cool stuff. I’ve never heard anything like it.”
Tyler smiled, sheepishly averting his gaze.
“You’re giving us too much credit, but thank you. Feel free to see our next show too.”
Josh’s eyes lit up in a way that reminded Tyler of their family tree at Christmas.
“When is it?”
“Next Friday.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Unless you’re on for that night,” Chris said. “I’m not covering your shift again so you can ogle Tyler.”
“I’m not ogling him.”
Tyler figured the rising red in Josh’s cheeks was a result of the overhead lighting. It always made him sweat out of his skin too.
“Funny joke, but he was totally ogling you,” he said to Chris.
“Totally,” Josh said. “I do it all the time at work too.” He made a series of obnoxious wet kissy noises, making Tyler laugh and Chris roll his eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s get to packing,” he said, nudging Tyler who had forgotten he wasn't even close to being done for the evening. He was more interested in figuring out the color of Josh’s eyes and the logo on his shirt, faded after what he guessed was many washes.
“I can help,” Josh volunteered. Before Tyler could politely decline, Josh raced over and hoisted an amp onto his shoulders, carrying it like it was nothing. He and Josh talked the whole time while packing. A few times Tyler was so enraptured in their conversation that he dropped whatever was in his arms.
Never before had talking to someone been this easy. For once, speaking wasn’t like pulling teeth. Words flowed naturally between the two of them, a rushing stream of water he didn’t mind dipping his toes into. Tyler didn’t get caught in the trap of his usual bouts of overthinking. He said whatever was on his mind. Josh was surprisingly receptive.
Even more impressive was Josh’s ability to match his energy. He carried the conversation just as much as Tyler did. By the end of the night, they already had several inside jokes.
When it was time to part ways, there was a rock of dread weighing the bed of Tyler's stomach down. He didn’t want the night to come to a close. He wanted endless conversations with Josh. He wanted to stay up all night until they passed out and woke up late into the next day. Then did it all over again.
It was just them. Everyone else had gone home. They were standing at the back of Josh’s car.
“I guess it’s time to go,” Tyler said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Yeah,” Josh said, looking off into the distance. “Hey, I know we just met—and this is forward so feel free to shut me down—but do you wanna exchange numbers?”
Tyler’s cheeks flushed, something he attributed to the chilly Columbus air that was shifting towards the brutal tail end of the year. Winters in Ohio were no joke. Neither was the color in his face as he nodded.
Josh unearthed his phone and tossed it to Tyler. Tyler caught it, though it nearly slipped out from fingers that had been to perspire. He entered his number into a new contact, anxiously checking it over no less than ten times to make sure he got it right. When he was certain (well, as certain as he could be), he handed it back. But not before he set his name as Tyler From Twenty One Pilots. A bit wordy. He ought to shorten it to TOP.
He started to walk away as his text tone went off in his pocket. He took out his phone, glancing at the screen.
Hey stranger :-)
He looked back. Josh grinned at him in the distance. Tyler smiled back before turning back around and walking to his own car. With his car radio still gone, remnants of their conversation took the place of songs and played in his head the entirety of the drive home.
†
Josh kept his word and came to the next show. And the one after that. And after that. And so many that Tyler had lost count. He could always bank on seeing Josh’s grinning face looking back at him from the sea of bodies, packed tight like sardines. In fact, Tyler was growing rather adept at being able to pick Josh out from a crowd in under five seconds, his own personal little talent he took pride in despite pride being frowned upon in the church.
Josh made it a habit to hang around after shows, keeping Tyler company while he packed up (and often helping himself). In a way, Josh was a fourth member of the band. Tyler didn’t mind. He liked Josh’s presence more than he was willing to admit.
Their hangouts began to extend outside of cramped venues, bleeding over into their personal lives. They found themselves going to Taco Bell, satiating Tyler who was always starving after using up his energy for hungrier crowds. Walking around Columbus and exchanging their memories. They even went as far as hanging out in each other's houses. His mom had started to tease him that Josh was another one of her sons.
The only downside of their increase of time together was it brought about these… feelings in Tyler. Feelings he didn’t understand and didn’t want to. Feelings so overwhelming that they made him feel like he was drowning every time they emerged in the storm of his mind. He did his best to keep his head above the water, but it was hard when the current was hellbent on dragging him under.
Feelings weren’t wrong, but his were.
Josh was just his friend.
His friend he thought about whenever he wasn’t around.
His friend he stared up and down, gaze snagging on lips that looked soft. Lips he imagined what they would feel like against his own.
Revulsion shot through him. It was wrong. So very wrong. He was only supposed to have thoughts like that about girls. Sure, he had held hands with girls before. Rarely, but it happened here and there. It was okay. Nothing to write home about. In all honesty (a rare occurrence these days within his being), he didn’t get the hype.
Josh was a whole different story.
Sometimes they would walk side by side. Their hands would brush each other and a tingle would shoot down his spine. When he was lying in bed, he’d recall it until he consciously realized what he was doing. He chided himself and focused on trying to get some sleep, which was hard when 95% of his dreams lately consisted of Josh.
He was doing his best to keep his feelings at bay. Though it was getting harder day by day. He would constantly have to redirect his eyes to somewhere other than Josh’s lips or staring into his soul which meant more times than not, he looked at the paint on the wall or something equally as inane.
“Josh,” he said one day out of nowhere.
“Hm?” Josh was absorbed into their round of Mario Kart. While Tyler kept running off the track, Josh was focused.
“Do you like guys?”
Josh dropped the remote in his lap, looking over at Tyler.
“Where is this coming from?”
Tyler shrugged.
“Dunno. Just curious.”
“Yeah. I do. Is there a problem with that?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Tyler bit his lip, wondering why the hell he asked in the first place. Deep down, he knew why. Maybe if Josh had those feelings too, they were normal. Maybe it meant he had them about Tyler too. Though he couldn’t bring himself to inquire further, navigating his go-kart back to the path.
Neither of them mentioned the question. Everything was back to normal until it wasn’t. Nick and Chris were leaving the band, effectively stranding Tyler on an island by himself with no fresh water supply.
“I have no clue what I’m going to do,” he said, shaking his head as he was lamenting to Josh. “I guess I’ll be a one man band. How lame is that? No one is going to want to see that.”
“I would.”
“I know. But you’re not representative of the general population. Maybe it’s a sign.”
“A sign?”
“To give up. Pursue basketball like I originally planned. Maybe I can try to get my scholarship from Otterbein back. I wonder if scholarships expire.”
“Probably.”
“Yeah. You’re right,” Tyler said with a sigh. “I’ll get my old serving job back then.”
“You hated it there. You told me. Especially the way the food would touch your fingers.”
“Yeah, but I don’t exactly have any other options.”
“Sure you do.”
He looked at Josh like he had three heads.
“I do…?”
“I can be your drummer.”
Tyler knew Josh did drumming for House of Heroes from time to time. So the question wasn’t if he was an adequate drummer. Despite not ever having seen him drum firsthand and only going by word of mouth, he had no doubts about Josh’s abilities.
The real issue was about what this meant for them. Tyler was worried about the increase in proximity for several reasons. All that extra time together might result in them hating each other. Or it would have the opposite effect and bring them closer together, strengtheningTyler’s feelings he was keen to act like didn’t exist in the first place. He wasn’t sure what was the worst outcome.
“I can even audition if you want,” Josh said, grinning with that damn infectious grin Tyler was obsessed with.
No. He wasn’t obsessed. It was a smile like every other. Everyone grinned. It wasn’t special.
But everyone wasn’t Josh Dun.
“That won’t be necessary,” Tyler said. “I just… I don’t know.”
“Come onnnnn. We have so much fun already. Imagine how much more fun we’ll have playing together,” Josh said. “Remember what I told you about the band?”
“The only thing you didn’t like about Twenty One Pilots was the fact that you weren’t in it,” Tyler recited their early conversation.
He opened his mouth to shut the idea down for good when he realized that was giving his feelings too much power. Besides, it was selfish to bar Josh from this just because he couldn’t handle his feelings. He couldn’t do that to him. He couldn’t be responsible for snuffing out the hopeful expression on his face. It would kill him to see Josh crestfallen. Especially if it was his fault. He would’ve accepted a life sentence for that crime.
“Okay. You’re in,” Tyler said. He barely got the words out before Josh was tackling him to the ground.
“Thank you! You won’t regret this.”
Josh’s body was pressed up against him. His arms were around Tyler’s neck. Tyler ignored how his body reacted to the close contact, particularly his lower half. He wiggled out from under Josh, cheeks aflame.
“Practice starts Wednesday. Don’t be late.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
†
Tyler’s suspicions had been proven correct. Josh was indeed an excellent drummer. Even better than Chris. He always knew what a song needed. It was almost intuitive. Tyler kept this in for fear of inflating Josh’s ego. He knew how musicians were, but something told him that Josh would remain humble no matter what. So he threw in comments here and there, receiving elated smiles in response. Seeing Josh that happy was always worth it.
Their first performance together was one for the history books. At least Tyler’s personal history books he mulled over at night, sifting through the metaphorical pages. Usually after performances, he was consumed by thoughts of what he could do better. What he was lacking. The usual mess of anxiety he was no stranger to.
The night of their first show, he went to sleep with a smile on his face.
Being around Josh was confusing. It helped his overthinking. It helped ground him. They had so much fun together, just like Josh said they would. It was great.
Except for the horrible, immortal, worm of guilt wriggling in his stomach. No matter what, he couldn’t ignore the bubbling of feelings in his gut that made him feel like he ate a bad taco.
Tyler reveled in his ability to get lost in the music and deliver memorable performances. Josh threw a wrench in his concentration. It wasn’t Josh's fault. If anything, it was the fault of his parents for blessing him with such good genetics.
He’d look back and see Josh drenched in sweat with matted hair. The image should’ve repulsed him instead of the opposite reaction it brought about in him. His body was supposed to respond to the idea of cute girls next door in tastefully flowy dresses. Not his sweaty bandmate with gauges in his ears and a hole in his lip where a piercing used to be. He shouldn’t have even noticed the hole in the first place.
It didn’t take long for it to get out of hand. Quick glances morphed into prolonged stares where Tyler’s eyes didn’t let go of Josh as stumbled over his own lyrics. There were multiple occasions where he accidentally sang the bridge of “Ode to Sleep” instead of finishing “Slowtown.” Plus all of the times he tripped over cables on the stage when he was watching the bulge and flex of Josh’s muscles while slamming the drums instead of paying attention to where his feet were headed.
His desire slowly started to turn into anger. Anger at what he could never have. Anger at his body for betraying him and his faith. Anger at God for making him this way.
He never understood that. If God made perfect creations, then why had he made Tyler this way? Why had he programmed him wrong? The stream of why’s took the place of smiling images of Josh. He poured over the Bible more than ever. He started flaking on he and Josh’s hangouts more and more until the only time they saw each other was during their shows when it was unavoidable. Damn his former bandmates for putting him in this predicament.
They were slated to perform at Newport Music Hall. It was a cruel and laughable irony. That was the venue he and Josh first met at. Tyler tried to zone into the familiarities of the venue instead of getting caught up in his head, a feat easier said than done. Every time he looked out at the crowd, he imagined Josh’s face. But Josh wasn’t there. Josh was behind him on the drums.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to do covers. Tyler loved to pay homage to other musicians, showing the cyclical nature of inspiration. That night, he was inspired by “E.T.”
Screaming was kinda his whole thing. He unleashed pent up emotions in his lyrics, yelling until his throat went raw. It was one of the only times he allowed himself to feel, really feel. Every other time, he kept his longings locked in a vault at the back of his heart he didn’t dare to disturb.
“Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me Infect me with your lovin', fill me with your poison!”
He jumped off the piano he had climbed up on. As he practically beat the words into the dusty stage floor, he stomped over to Josh. He might as well have been screaming the words directly at him. Josh would probably consider it just his usual theatrics, but Tyler felt every word to his core as he hurled them at Josh.
His feelings for Josh were comparable to an infection. One that no course of antibiotics would rid from his system. Akin to a poison that filled his bloodstream and worked to slowly and painfully kill him.
Josh matched his intensity, smacking the cymbals and almost knocking them off their stands.
“Wanna be your victim, ready for abduction. Boy, you're an alien. Your touch, so foreign!”
It was too fitting for Josh. He frequently referred to himself an alien. Even wore shirts with aliens on them. He wasn’t exactly being subtle. He was banking on Josh not reading into anything and taking it for what it was instead of realizing that Tyler was boldly declaring himself a victim of his feelings for Josh.
He finished the cover at the piano, only looking back at Josh when lights turned blue and dimmed and Josh wouldn’t notice. It was only safe to look in the dark. This, he had always known.
He moved through the rest of the songs on autopilot. When it was finally time for “Car Radio,” he was relieved. Normally, he waited for Josh and then the two of them left the stage together. This time, he stormed backstage by his lonesome.
“Tyler!”
He heard Josh call out behind him. He didn’t slow down his walk. He upgraded it to a jog and ducked outside of the venue into an alley. There was nowhere left to run. Unless he booked it for his car which was hard when Josh blocked the end of the alley.
“I’m not going to ask what’s wrong because you’ll lie and tell me everything is fine,” Josh said, panting. “So I’m just going to tell you to tell me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Tyler had to bite down on his tongue to keep a denial from slipping out. Deny. Deny. Deny. He would say he was good at that, but clearly he wasn’t if this was the situation he found himself in.
“They’re gonna hear us,” he murmured with a sudden awareness that the fans leaving the venue could’ve stumbled on by.
“Fine. Let's go somewhere and talk.”
“Where?”
“My car.”
When they walked out from the shadows, a few fans did end up spotting them.
“Can we get a picture with you?” an eager girl asked. On her shirt was their logo. It looked hand drawn. With his bad mood, he almost rejected the request.
“Sure,” Tyler forced the word out. The girl’s friend took the picture of her with him and Josh. Tyler hoped his smile didn’t look as fake as it felt.
“Thank you so much! That was a great show tonight.”
“Thanks for coming,” Tyler said. “Have a good night.”
He and Josh began their walk to Josh’s car.
“You could’ve said no,” Josh said.
Tyler shook his head.
“You don’t get it.”
“There’s apparently a lot I don’t get. Like why you’re treating me like I have the plague.”
Tyler’s cheeks seared with heat not present in the May night air.
“Ah. Not gonna deny that? That’s good. Glad to know it hasn’t just been in my head,” Josh said, venom in his tone not unlike the venom Tyler possessed during “E.T.”
Josh unlocked the car, getting into the driver’s side. Tyler sat in the passenger seat.
He thought about things from Josh’s perspective. Tyler had gone from overly involved and borderline codependent to avoidant and angry. All with no explanation of the one day seismic shift.
Oh god.
He was such an asshole. The biggest one on planet Earth. Josh should’ve quit the band and not looked back.
“No. It hasn’t been in your head,” making the admission was like nails digging into his throat. He did it anyway. Josh deserved to know that this had everything to do with himself and nothing to do with Josh. It wasn't Josh’s fault he was born broken. No amount of devoutness would put him back together. This was his punishment. All he could do was grin and bear it the best he could.
“Do you hate me?”
“What? No!” He hated that Josh internalized Tyler’s brokenness and thought it spoke to his character. He hated himself for letting it get this bad. He hated himself for who he was. He hated himself and every stupid feeling that wouldn’t die no matter how hard he crushed them like blood-stained petals between his fingers.
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I don’t know how to tell you.”
“I can handle it.”
I don’t know if I can.
“Are you sure about that?” Tyler said, rubbing his arm. He wished he had remained outside. The interior of the car was suffocating. There was nowhere to move, especially not with old paper fast food bags and random pieces of extra drum equipment laying around.
“Yeah. I’m sure. As long as you don’t say you hate me.”
“I don’t,” Tyler’s voice trembled. “I never could.”
“Then I can handle it.”
What he did next was so wrong.
So very wrong.
He could practically hear the angels from above angrily blowing their long trumpets at him. Could practically see the scorn flash across God’s face as he turned away from Tyler for good.
Tyler told himself (and God) that he would make it up to him after this. He would practically live in the church with how much he planned on being there. He would pray three times every day. Four. Five. Five hundred. He would never think another impure thought again. He would beg for forgiveness on his hands and knees until they ached with a horrible but deserved soreness.
He grabbed Josh’s face and kissed him.
It hit him then, everything he had been missing out on. He understood why the thought of girls was average at best. Why no matter what, he couldn’t get himself to feel excited about the prospect of kissing one.
Kissing Josh felt like a firework show despite the windows remaining dark without any sparkly explosions lighting up the sky. His heart beat like Josh was using his chest as a snare. It felt like his whole body was on fire. Maybe that was the hellfire already preparing his eternal punishment. In that moment, he didn’t care. He would’ve kept kissing Josh until the angels pulled him off before casting him into damnation.
“I’m even more confused,” Josh said. “You go from ignoring me to kissing me. What the hell is going on?”
“That’s why I’ve been avoiding you,” Tyler said. “I like you. And I know I shouldn’t. I know I can’t. But at least I can say I had it for a brief moment. Maybe that can be enough.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or Josh.
Josh looked wounded. He eventually nodded, a gesture that hurt more Tyler anticipated.
“I wish things could be different. I would’ve liked to spend a lifetime with you,” Josh said.
“I would’ve liked that too.” Tyler's eyes dragged along the floor. It was almost impossible to meet Josh’s gaze. He thought his poor heart would give out and result in him slumped over in the seat, meeting eternal damnation early.
Even worse, he didn’t. He was still annoyingly alive and would now have to move throughout the world like he wasn’t in love with the one person he couldn’t have.
Later that year, Twenty One Pilots had a sold out show at Newport Music Hall. It was always that goddamn venue. He ignored the tear in his heart as he sang up there, unaware of the scouts in the audience. When he found out they were there, it temporarily repaired the cracks that had started to become a permanent fixture that he felt with each pulse.
The following three months made it easy to forget the kiss happened in the first place. Well, not easy. Forgetting he and Josh kissed was the opposite of easy. Perhaps he should’ve gone with manageable. Or tolerable. But was it manageable if he felt like he was at rock bottom despite being on top of the world with his band? Was it truly tolerable if he was constantly kept awake with haunting “what if’s” and fantasy lands where he and Josh actually had a chance?
The record deal with Fueled by Ramen was a bittersweet consolation prize. This was everything they wanted, finally having industry eyes on them who would work to elevate them. This is what they used to talk about back before he ruined everything, bits of taco meat falling out of their mouths as they imagined their breaking into stardom.
Tyler thought achieving his dreams would feel better than this. He hadn’t accounted for the twinges of nausea that would flood his stomach whenever he would see Josh getting a bit too comfortable with girls after shows. Or the fact that Josh would no longer be his dirty little secret, his drumming now savored by the masses instead of just him.
He had to tell himself that he wasn’t allowed to be jealous, even if he had this poison running through his veins that made it impossible for him not to be jealous. He had no right. Josh wasn’t his. He could flirt with whoever he wanted. It was time he moved on. At least tried to.
He went to his pastor.
“Hey. You’re not kidding are you?”
“No. I’m not at all. You should come over this week and meet my sister in law.”
Tyler bit on his cuticles. He hesitated before he answered.
“Okay.”