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“What the fuck was that?!”
Shawn’s aggressive growl echoed around the small room. Joey sat in the corner, hunched over in a plastic chair with his hands burying his face. His knee screamed in pain, but he refused to let it show any more than it already had.
“You completely messed up the show tonight! Your playing was disgusting, worse than it has been this past few days. I know that you’ve been slacking since this tour started, but that was a complete wreck! Why?! You’ve never done this in the past, so what’s different?”
Joey just shook his head awkwardly in response to Shawn’s screams. He felt pathetic. He knew that he had fucked up the show horribly, even as he tried his best to push through, but it hadn’t changed anything. His knee had been starting to hurt again in the past two weeks, an old injury reawakening at the worst possible time, but he had been trying to hide it. Just keep taking painkillers and don’t walk much so you can save your energy for the show. And that had been working, until tonight.
The previous events played back once again. They had been in the middle of the sixth song, and it had been going fairly smoothly, fighting through the dull throb of pain in his knee like he had been for the last shows. It was out of nowhere that a spike of agony shot through his leg, like a bullet had been blown through his knee and into his thigh. It had been so sudden that he fell back with a cry of pain, dropping one of his sticks and hitting wrong snares as he tried to comprehend what had happened. Frantically, he reached for a spare drumstick and continued playing the song, his leg burning in terror as he tried to redirect his focus back to the music. From the corner of his eye, he saw his drum tech watching him wearily, confused at what had happened.
Trying to ignore the pain with little success, Joey continued through the set, although his playing was sloppy and spontaneous. He couldn’t use one of his kick drums due to the pure agony coursing through his right leg, his mind was hazy from the discomfort and confusion, and his body was running purely on adrenaline. Finally, the show ended, but Joey was left with nothing but disappointment for playing so poorly. He didn’t even wait until Corey had finished his closing thanks before darting - limping - to the backstage rooms. He didn’t want anyone to see him, and he certainly didn’t want to speak to his bandmates.
But Shawn had found him just after, fury burning from him in an invisible smoke as he approached the drummer in a small, secluded room.
“Don’t you realise how much we’ve sacrificed to be here? And you just want to throw it all away like that? You’re a disappointment to the band and a disappointment to the fans! Do you know how much they want to see us play? How much they give to be there? And all that just to see your shitty performance.” Shawn continued on, words searing through Joey.
He felt tears prick at his eyes, but forced them back. He deserved everything being said. He should have tried harder.
But, surely Shawn would understand why he had messed up? If he explained it, then he would have to be somewhat sympathetic, at least.
Joey raised his head from his hands and looked at Shawn, new fear sparking through him as he saw how irate he was, the anger carved into his clenched teeth and snarling face.
“Shawn,” he began, his voice pitifully quiet. “I didn’t mean to mess up so bad, my leg-”
“I don’t want to fucking hear it!” The percussionist cut him off with a yell that made Joey pull away. “I don’t care about whatever little excuses you’ve come up with! You fucked up the show, and you need to understand that.”
Shawn stepped closer to Joey, intimidating him further. “You’d better pull yourself together by tomorrow night, you hear me?” His voice was low, but incredibly threatening. Joey looked away, not bearing to meet the others' eyes as anxiety bubbled in his chest.
With an agitated grunt, Shawn turned and left the room, slamming the door in his place. Joey released a shaky breath, hands starting to quiver in fear. He strained them to lay still, and leaned back into his pathetic plastic chair, thinking over how it had all led to this as guilt began to replace the dissipating fright.
Absent mindedly, he stretched his leg out to gain comfort, but quickly hissed in pain as his knee sent a spasm of agony down his thigh, like a blade cutting through his bones. Clenching his teeth together, he forced the scream rising in his throat to remain silent. He didn’t want anyone to hear him.
Suddenly, a quiet squeak of the door hinges caught his notice, as he realised someone was entering the door.
“Go away, Shawn,” He growled, not bothering to face the entryway. “Haven’t you said enough?”
“It’s me, Joe.”
Joey turned to the softer, lighter voice that had spoken. Standing in the doorway was Jim, looking worried and sympathetic toward his bandmate. He was surprised it wasn’t Shawn, but glad none the less.
“Oh, hey, Jim…” He murmured awkwardly. Even if it wasn’t Shawn, he still didn’t feel like talking to anyone.
Jim walked further into the room, quietly closing the door behind him, and stopped once he was standing about two feet away from the drummer. Joey tried to make himself look nonchalant towards him, biting his tongue to try and ease the pain burning his leg.
“I heard Shawn getting pretty pissed at you,” Jim spoke, concern tainting his voice. “I wanted to check that you were alright. With what he said to you… but also about what happened on stage. Did something go wrong?”
Joey looked away from the towering guitarist, frowning. “I’m fine, Jim. Nothing’s wrong,” Feeling guilty, he added.”But thanks for checking.”
Jim didn’t reply, just kept staring down at him, clearly expecting more from the conversation.
Feeling uncomfortable under the pressing gaze of his bandmate, Joey came up with an excuse to leave.
“I was actually just going to head back to the hotel,” He claimed, beginning to sit up from his seat. “I’ll guess I’ll see you late-”
He was cut off by a gasp as his knee immediately buckled beneath him and sent him whirling to the ground in a flurry of agony. Panic blurred his mind, while black spots darted across his vision. He could feel his head faintly throb as it hit the ground, but it was nonexistent compared to the searing torment of his knee. He slipped into a world forged of pain, where nothing came and nothing left. A voice echoed through the space, but it was distant and barely audible. He couldn’t tell who it was, or what they said, only feeling pain, pain, pain…
Slowly, he came to.
Firm hands were shaking him awake, with a fear-stricken voice calling him.
“Joey?Joey, wake up!”
Opening his eyes, he saw Jim crouching beside him, panic spiking his eyes as he watched over his bandmate. At seeing Joey responsive, he released a heavy sigh, yet worry still pricked the air around him.
“Oh my god, Joe… What the fuck happened?” He asked, hands still clasped around the drummer.
Joey couldn’t respond. His head stung with a splitting headache, and his leg still burned its torture, although fainter now, thankfully. Pushing Jim’s hands off him, Joey tried to sit up, but immediately fell back down to where he had been laying, his body aching and his mind exhausted.
“Just keep laying down, it’s okay,” Jim tried to reassure him. “Tell me what happened.”
Joey sighed, looking away from his bandmate. There was no way he was getting out of this now.
“Well, a couple years ago I fucked my knee up pretty bad doing something stupid while drunk. “He explained gingerly. “It healed, but occasionally it’ll start hurting a little, and it did a couple weeks ago. It wasn’t that bad, until tonight. When I was playing, something just snapped and… I don’t know, but it really fucking hurts.”
Jim looked down at him, worry glistening in his eyes.
“Jesus, man…” He said after a moment of silence. “We should get you to a doctor or hospital or something. Can you get up?”
“It’s not that bad,” Joey hissed defensively. He didn’t want to make a huge deal out of it.
Jim narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Don’t be stupid. You just fainted after trying to stand up. Now, let me try and help you up.”
Jim tucked his hands under Joey’s armpits and slowly began to pull him to a sitting position. His leg was pricking at the movement, but he remained silent. Jim faced him.
“I’m going to help you stand, alright? If it hurts too much just say.”
Joey nodded, preparing for the pain. Jim grabbed his hands and cautiously began to lift him up, but as soon as his body left the stability of the ground, his leg exploded in a conflagration of agony, and he shouted out. Jim immediately lowered him back to the floor, panic flaring in his eyes.
Joey hissed at the searing burn of his knee, falling back so he lay against the cool ground. Warm tears began to prick at his eyes, and he didn’t try to hide them.
Jim watched over him, considering what other options they had. Finally, he sighed desperately.
“I think we gotta call an ambulance, Joe.” He told him.
Joey shot his head to stare at him. “What? No, we can’t do that! It’s not that ba-”
“It is that bad,” Jim pressed in a firm voice. “This isn’t just an occasional ache, this is something serious. I’m calling an ambulance for you.”
Joey wanted to melt into the floor. It shouldn’t have had to come to this. Jim pulled out his cell phone and stepped to the corner of the room. Joey wasn’t listening as he dialed 911, and as he explained the situation. He just wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to be a bother to anyone. Warm tears started to spill down his cheek, but he didn’t care to wipe them away.
Short after, Jim returned and kneeled beside him, clasping his hand. Joey looked up at him, despair shining in his eyes.
“It’ll be okay,” He reassured him.
“Everything’s gonna be okay.”