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Corey stumbled into the backstage room, ripping off his mask and pegging it into the corner. Immediately he started for a seat and collapsed onto one of the soft couches standing against the wall. Grunting in pain, he pressed the heel of his palm into his forehead, as though he could smother out the pain that way. Bolts of striking agony burned through his brain and seared his skull. He had never felt anything of the sorts before, and really wished he’d never had too. Grating his teeth together, he slouched over on the couch and ducked his head towards the floor with eyes squeezed shut tight. The brightness of the lights really wasn’t too helpful at the moment.
The pain was excruciating, piercing through his head in waves of agonizing torment. It pulsed and roared, thrashing like a violent ocean in the midst of a raging storm. Lighting was crackling within his own head, burning the space behind his eyes. It wasn’t helping how his body was already aching with exhaustion and begging for rest, only making more aware of his own discomfort and filling him with rotted anger.
Soon after, the other members joined the backstage room, though he didn’t hear them approach amidst the pain. That’s how you knew it was bad, cause those fuckers were loud.
“That show fucking rocked, dude!”
“That finale was incredible.”
“We totally killed it that night!”
Their booming cries ricocheted off the walls and crashed through Corey’s ears. The vibrations and just overall noise sent new, bright blazes of pain rattling through his head, and he clenched his teeth harder. His leg started bouncing against the floor irritably.
He tried to remember when the pain started. It had been in the last song, if he recalled correctly. It had been going fine until a sudden spark ignited inside his brain. It had started out dull, but rapidly grown with the blinding lights, deafening music and physical exertion the show offered. As soon as the song finished he rushed backstage, hardly able to stay standing due to the sheer agony. Now he was here.
Once all the other guys had gathered together in the back room and finished congratulating each other did they finally start to quiet down. Not by a lot, but it put a little less strain on Corey’s head. He didn’t notice someone approaching him until a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Dude, you alright?”
Joey was standing beside him, looking down with eyes still brimming with adrenaline, yet washed with distant concern. Corey’s first reaction was a flash of irritation and he instinctually wished to punch the other guy square in the face, but instead he sighed and looked up.
As he lifted his head it sent another spike of agony rippling through him even when he tried to ignore it. “Uh, yeah, dude. Just a headache.”
Joey nodded in response before reaching over and passing a cold bottle of beer to his bandmate. “Here, man. This’ll help.”
Corey was pretty certain that alcohol wouldn’t help a headache, but wasn’t going to turn it down. He eagerly grabbed the bottle and popped the lid off, bringing it to his lips and savouring the cool, bitter drink flowing down his throat. A part of him relaxed at the taste and sensation, and the pain seemed to subside slightly. He felt less agitated already.
The night passed by quickly.
—
Corey woke in his bunk the next morning. Or rather, the afternoon. He couldn’t remember getting back to the bus last night, but clearly he must have. Immediately, the splitting throb in his head got his attention. He groaned and pressed a hand firmly against his forehead, recalling his last memories of the show last night. Well, that beer certainly didn’t help in the end.
The pain was crippling. He grit his teeth together harder, trying to endure the agony as it spiralled into a conflagration inside his skull. His head started to feel faint, and his stomach began to roll in disgust. Eventually, he rolled over, tore back the black curtains of his bunk, and pulled his legs over the side of his bed so he was sitting upright. The ache only intensified at the movement, and Corey saw his vision start to swim with fuzzy stars as the blood rushed from his head. A sudden burst of burning flames exploded behind his eyes and he let out a mumbled yet pained cry, burying his face in his hands to hide from the striking lights.
A pair of footsteps rumbled through the ground as someone approached Corey. He didn’t really care who, and couldn’t bear to raise his head to view them anyways. They stopped in front of him before speaking.
“You good, man?”
Mick’s surprisingly gentle voice met him. He sounded as monotone as usual, but a scratch of concern was bleeding through.
“Mhmm…” Corey only managed to mumble through his hands.
Mick watched him for a second. “Headache?” He asked shortly after.
God, it was so much worse than a headache, but what else could he say?
“Yeah…” He managed to grunt, just wishing for this fucking pain to stop already.
Mick stepped away, heading to somewhere else in the tour bus. Whatever, Corey thought. He didn’t need anyone anyways. He could fight through this. It was just a stupid headache.
But Mick returned after maybe a minute. “Here,” he said.
Corey raised his head just enough to see what the guitarist was presenting. He was holding a bottle of water and two painkillers in his hands, holding them out for the taking. Immediately, Corey scooped up the pills and swallowed them, washing the water down his parched throat. The movement sent a spasm of fire straight down his head, but he tried to ignore it. These pills had better fucking work.
Mick sat down beside him on the bed. He looked like he had been awake for a few hours, fully dressed compared to the stained, baggy clothes that Corey had used as pyjamas. Glancing around, he noticed it was pretty late in the day.
“What time is it?” He murmured, propping his chin up with his hand.
“3 o’clock.”
That wasn’t too bad, then. There was still time to go out and explore the city late into the night, as long as this torturous headache went away soon.
“You were pretty wasted last night,” Mick continued. “Managed to get you back to the bus in one piece though. You passed out almost as soon as you reached your bunk.”
Corey was listening, when something peculiar caught his ear. It wasn’t unusual, just… odd. A low buzzing sound was echoing from somewhere. It sounded like the engine of the bus, or a loud airconditioning unit, but as he looked around he saw that the bus was stationary and the AC was off.
The noise kept growing, slowly getting louder as it wrung in his ears. It sounded static and shaky, filling the room in an almost physical presence. What could it be? Corey started looking around, frantically trying to seek the source of the noise as it continued to grow louder and louder. He twisted his head around, glancing at every inch of the room, but nothing matched.
“Corey?” Mick asked. “You good?”
He could hardly hear him over the tumult. It was deafening now, washing over every other noise or sensation as it filled his head. He pressed his hands against his skull, as though trying to hide from the noise, but it only intensified.
His head began to feel light. His vision started to waver. Suddenly, he fell forwards, tipping out of the bunk and hitting the hard ground. He couldn’t feel anything. The noise was engulfing everything. Mick’s hands grabbed his body, but he couldn’t feel them either. His sight clouded with smothering black fog. The noise consumed him.
—
Corey’s head spun in pain as he came to. Everything was silent. Where was he? Where was that noise? Slowly, he started to regain feeling in his arms, then his legs. He was laying on something hard and solid. A warm hand was grasping his shoulder.
As he started to understand more about where he was, he realised that it wasn’t as silent as he had first thought. People were speaking in distressed, urgent voices, but they were more like quiet echoes rippling around him. He strained his ears to make out what they were saying.
“What the fuck happened to him?”
“He should’ve gotten up by now.”
“I think we gotta call an ambulance or something.”
He recognised those voices. But who did they belong to? Fighting with all his strength, he forced his eyes open.
The world was shaky around him, but as his vision settled, he could make out four people standing around him. The bright lights of the tour bus shown down into his eyes, and he winced at the bolt of pain which throbbed in his skull when he saw it. Focussing on the face around him, he noticed Paul and Joey staring down closest to him. Their eyes were bright with fear and concern, and lit in relief as they noticed his consciousness. Looking past them, Corey noticed Mick and Sid standing a little further away, but expressing the same emotions as the other two. Mick looked especially concerned.
“Oh my god, Corey, are you okay?” Paul demanded, shaking his shoulder where his hand was holding it.
Corey didn’t reply, just watched him with confusion. How did he end up here?
Then a sudden bolt of pain ripped through his skull. He screamed, but didn’t realise it was him screaming. Joey flinched away but Paul pulled him closer, face dropping in a fresh wave of fear.
“Corey, what’s happening? Tell me!”
“My head…” He slurred tiredly through the pain, clenching his teeth together.
Paul grabbed his shoulders tightly. “It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay, just focus on my voice, alright? Just keep listening to me, okay?”
Corey kept listening to Paul’s voice, desperately trying to focus on it rather than the pain. It burned in his brain, and he wanted to scream and cry and die, but he clenched his fists harder instead. Paul kept rambling on encouraging phrases, never pausing in his speech, and Corey forced himself to only pay attention to that for what felt like hours. Slowly, the pain began to ease.
He dropped his jaw, releasing the tension he had from gritting his teeth together. Paul finally stopped speaking, watching Corey in a hopeful fear.
“Are you feeling better?” He asked gingerly.
Corey nodded silently. The most intense of the pain had subsided, leaving a dull throb which he could manage for now.
Paul edged back, sharing a concerned look with Joey. He turned back to Corey.
“I think you’ve done something to your head,” he explained carefully. “And I think we need to see a doctor.”
Corey looked up at Paul with sorrowful eyes. But he couldn’t refuse. He nodded weakly.
Paul smiled faintly and held his hand.
“It’ll be okay. I promise.”