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𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆...
Tyler had lost track of how many nights it had been.
At some point he'd stopped checking the clock every five minutes, stopped rolling onto his other side hoping that somehow it'd make a difference. He already knew what he'd see if he reached for his phone anyway. Two in the morning, maybe three. It didn't matter. He wasn't going to fall asleep.
He let out a quiet sigh and rubbed both hands over his face before sitting up. The room was dark enough that he could barely make out the pile of clothes on the chair across from his bed. For a second he actually considered trying again. Maybe if he closed his eyes...
No.
His head was already too loud.
He slipped out of bed, grabbed the hoodie hanging from the doorknob and quietly opened his bedroom door. The hallway was empty. Good.
The stairs complained beneath his weight as he made his way down to the first floor. He knew exactly which steps squeaked the loudest, avoiding them almost without thinking. Once he reached the kitchen, he didn't bother turning on the light. The moon coming through the window was enough.
The basement door stood in the corner. He stared at it for a moment.
"...Yeah."
His own voice barely came out above a whisper.
The knob felt cold against his hand.
A familiar smell greeted him as he walked down the stairs; old wood, concrete, dust. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but it had become comforting somehow. There was an old couch tucked against the far wall with a blanket thrown over one arm. A mug sat on the floor beside it, forgotten from the night before.
Or maybe the one before that.
Tyler couldn't remember.
He dropped onto the couch, pulled the blanket over himself and rested his head against the back cushion. The house creaked every now and then, the furnace hummed somewhere behind the wall and rain tapped softly against the tiny basement windows.
It wasn't silent.
That was exactly why he liked it.
The little noises drowned everything else out.
He closed his eyes.
His thoughts were still there, but they didn't echo as much down here.
...
Josh frowned as Tyler missed the entrance to the second verse for the third time that afternoon.
"Dude."
Tyler looked up from his bass.
"What?"
"You've been staring at the same fret for like... thirty seconds."
"I've not."
"You absolutely have."
"I was thinking."
"Clearly."
Tyler rolled his eyes and adjusted the strap on his shoulder.
"Can we keep going?"
Josh studied him for another second before nodding.
"Yeah."
They started again.
This time Tyler came in on cue, but halfway through the song he stumbled over lyrics he'd written himself.
He stopped playing.
"...Sorry."
Neither of them spoke.
Josh set his sticks down on the snare.
"When's the last time you slept?"
"I'm sleeping."
"I'm asking when."
Tyler busied himself tuning a string that wasn't even out of tune.
"I don't know."
"Yesterday?"
"Maybe."
"The day before?"
"I said I don't know."
Josh sighed quietly.
"You look exhausted."
"I am."
"Then go home and sleep."
Tyler almost laughed.
"If it were that easy, I would've done it already."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Josh caught it immediately.
"You can't sleep."
Tyler looked away.
"...Not really."
"Since when?"
"A while."
"You could've said something."
"I didn't think it was a big deal."
"Tyler."
"It isn't."
Josh didn't argue.
He just nodded once and picked his drumsticks back up.
"Alright."
That should've been the end of it.
Instead, it somehow made Tyler feel worse.
-
The routine stayed the same.
Rehearsal. Home. Dinner, if he could stomach it.
Pretend to watch a movie with his parents until they went upstairs.
Wait another hour. Then head to the basement. He never meant to stay all night. He'd tell himself he'd only sit down for ten minutes.
Just until his breathing settled. Just until his thoughts slowed down. Just until he felt tired enough to try again.
Somehow the sun always came first.
...
"You've been disappearing."
Tyler glanced over as Josh leaned against the passenger side of his car after rehearsal.
"I've been going home."
"You leave before anyone can even say goodbye."
"I'm tired."
"I know."
Josh crossed his arms.
"I'm worried."
"You don't have to be."
"I think I do."
Tyler forced a smile.
"I promise I'm okay."
Josh didn't smile back.
"You've started saying that a lot."
The smile slipped from Tyler's face.
"I just... need some time."
"By yourself?"
He nodded.
"Yeah."
Josh hesitated before reaching into his pocket.
"Fine."
He tossed him his house key.
Tyler caught it instinctively.
"...What?"
"In case you don't want to be by yourself one night."
Tyler stared at the key resting in his palm.
"You seriously carry a spare around?"
"My mom makes me."
A small laugh escaped Tyler.
"There you are."
"What?"
"You laughed."
"It wasn't funny."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
Tyler shook his head, handing the key back.
"I'll be okay."
Josh accepted it, though he didn't look convinced.
"I hope so."
-
Rain hammered against the windows harder than usual that night.
Tyler sat on the basement couch with his knees pulled to his chest, absently turning an old guitar pick between his fingers. He hadn't bothered bringing his phone down this time. He didn't want to look at the messages piling up.
He didn't want to think about the songs he hadn't finished.
He didn't want to think about anything.
A sudden knock echoed through the basement.
Three quiet taps.
Tyler froze.
Nobody ever used that door.
Another knock.
"...Ty?"
His stomach dropped.
Josh.
Tyler squeezed his eyes shut.
Maybe if he stayed quiet-
"I can see the light under the door."
Right.
He'd left the lamp on.
After a long moment, Tyler let out a defeated sigh.
"It's open."
The door creaked, followed by the sound of careful footsteps on the wooden stairs. Josh only came halfway down before stopping. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the blanket, the mug on the floor, the small lamp in the corner and the notebook lying open on the couch beside Tyler.
For a while, he didn't say anything.
Then he looked back at Tyler.
"...You've been living down here, haven't you?"
Josh's voice wasn't accusing. If anything, it sounded smaller than usual, like he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.
Tyler dropped his gaze to the guitar pick between his fingers.
"...No."
The silence that followed was enough to tell Josh he was lying.
"How long?"
Tyler shrugged.
"I don't know."
"A couple of nights?"
Another shrug.
Josh let out a slow breath and sat down on the middle step instead of coming all the way into the room. He rested his forearms on his knees and looked around again.
"You brought a blanket."
Tyler didn't answer.
"And a lamp."
Still nothing.
"...You even have a notebook."
"It helps."
"What does?"
"Writing."
Josh nodded once.
"I figured."
Neither of them spoke after that. Rain continued tapping against the basement windows while the furnace hummed somewhere behind the wall. Tyler kept spinning the guitar pick between his fingers until it slipped from his grip and landed on the floor.
He didn't bother picking it up.
"I wasn't trying to hide from you." He muttered.
"I know."
"I just didn't want anyone to see me like this."
"Like what?"
Tyler laughed quietly, though there wasn't any humor behind it.
"I don't know."
"Tired?"
"...Maybe."
"Sad?"
"I said I don't know."
Josh nodded.
"Okay."
That was it.
No pushing.
No guessing.
Just... okay.
For some reason, that made Tyler's chest tighten more than if Josh had kept asking questions.
"You know what's funny?" Tyler said after a minute.
"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me."
"I keep thinking that if I can just get through one more day, I'll feel normal again."
Josh stayed quiet.
"So I tell myself, 'Tomorrow I'll sleep.' Then tomorrow comes and I don't. Then I say the same thing again."
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.
"It's been weeks."
Josh frowned. "Weeks?"
Tyler nodded.
"I didn't want to admit it out loud."
"You should've."
"I know."
"I would've come over."
"I know."
"I would've stayed."
"I know."
Josh looked down at his hands.
"You don't make it very easy to help you."
"I wasn't asking for help."
"I know."
There was that answer again.
Not then why didn't you?
Not you should have.
Just I know.
It almost made Tyler angry.
"You don't know."
Josh looked up.
"No?"
"No."
Tyler stood and started pacing the small room. He shoved both hands into the pocket of his hoodie and kicked lightly at the concrete floor as he walked.
"You don't know what it's like."
"What?"
"When your own head won't shut up."
He laughed under his breath.
"I lie in bed and it's like someone's reading every mistake I've ever made back to me."
Josh listened without interrupting.
"I think about things I said years ago. Songs that aren't good enough. People I've disappointed. Stuff I should've done differently."
He stopped walking.
"I pray."
His voice came out quieter that time.
"I pray and... nothing."
He swallowed.
"It just feels like the words hit the ceiling and come right back."
Josh didn't answer right away.
When he finally did, his voice was almost as quiet as Tyler's.
"That sounds exhausting."
Tyler blinked.
"That's all you've got?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know."
"Neither do I."
The honesty caught him off guard.
Josh shrugged. "I've been standing outside this door for like ten minutes trying to think of the perfect thing to say."
"You were here that long?"
"I almost went home."
"Why didn't you?"
"'Cause I figured if our positions were switched..." He smiled faintly. "...I'd want someone to knock anyway."
Tyler looked away before Josh could see his eyes watering.
"I hate this."
"I know."
"I hate feeling like this."
"I know."
"I hate that I can't even explain it."
"You don't have to."
Tyler shook his head.
"That's the problem. I do."
"You really don't."
Josh stood, but instead of walking over, he leaned against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, leaving a few feet between them.
"I'm not here because I need an explanation."
"Then why are you here?"
"'Cause you stopped answering my calls."
Despite everything, Tyler snorted.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
"I thought you were gonna say something profound."
"I had a whole speech."
"What happened to it?"
"I forgot it in the car."
That earned an actual laugh.
A small one.
Barely a second long.
But it was real.
"There you are." Josh said with a grin.
"Oh, don't start."
"I'm just saying. Nice to see you."
Tyler rolled his eyes and shook his head, though the corners of his mouth stayed up a little longer this time.
The smile disappeared as quickly as it'd come.
"I keep coming down here because..." He sighed, searching for the words. "It's the only place where I don't feel like I have to pretend."
Josh waited.
"Upstairs..." Tyler gestured vaguely toward the ceiling. "Everyone expects me to have an answer."
"Do they?"
"My parents ask if I'm okay."
"They're worried."
"I know."
"You tell me you're fine."
"I know."
"You tell everyone you're fine."
"I know."
Tyler rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm tired of saying it."
"So stop."
He looked at Josh.
"...It's not that easy."
"I didn't say it'd be easy."
Silence settled between them again.
This one wasn't awkward.
It was simply quiet.
Josh glanced around the basement.
"You know..."
"What?"
"I don't think this place is the problem."
Tyler frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I think it helped."
Tyler looked around.
The old couch.
The lamp.
The blanket.
The notebook filled with half-finished lyrics.
"It gave you somewhere to breathe when you needed it." Josh met his eyes. "But I don't think you're supposed to stay here forever."
Tyler followed his gaze to the staircase.
Thirteen wooden steps.
He'd counted them every night.
Always on the way down.
Never on the way back up.
"...What if I go upstairs and nothing changes?"
Josh thought about it for a moment before answering.
"Then tomorrow might still suck."
Tyler let out a humorless laugh.
"Thanks."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
"You might not sleep tonight."
"Probably not."
"You might wake up tomorrow feeling exactly the same."
Tyler nodded. "...Yeah."
Josh took a step toward him.
"But you won't be doing it by yourself."
Tyler looked at him for a long moment.
"You can't fix this."
"I know."
"You don't even know what's wrong."
"I don't have to."
"Then why are you still here?"
Josh smiled, small and tired.
"'Cause you're my best friend."
The words hit harder than Tyler expected.
No speeches.
No promises.
Just the truth.
His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"...I'm scared."
It was barely louder than a whisper.
Josh nodded.
"I know."
"No... I mean really scared."
"I know."
"What if I never get better?"
Josh walked over then, stopping beside him instead of in front of him.
"I don't know."
Another honest answer.
"But I do know this."
He nudged Tyler's shoulder lightly.
"You don't have to disappear every time things get hard."
Tyler stared at the floor for another few seconds before looking back toward the stairs.
They hadn't changed.
They were still old.
Still creaky.
Still led back to the same house waiting upstairs.
He bent down, picked up the guitar pick from the floor and slipped it into his pocket.
"...You got coffee in the car?"
Josh smiled.
"I was hoping you'd ask."
"You actually brought coffee?"
"And cinnamon rolls."
"Cinnamon rolls?"
"I wasn't sure which one would convince you."
Tyler laughed, shaking his head.
"You're unbelievable."
"I've been told."
He reached the first step before stopping to look back at Tyler.
"You coming?"
Tyler looked around the basement one last time.
The blanket was still folded over the couch.
The notebook was still open.
The lamp still cast the same warm glow over the concrete floor.
Tomorrow, if he needed it, the room would still be there.
But maybe...
Maybe he didn't need to face tomorrow from down here.
He switched off the lamp.
The basement disappeared into darkness.
Then he climbed the stairs.
One step after another, Josh walking beside him the whole way.
By the time they reached the kitchen, the rain had almost stopped. Pale morning light filtered through the windows, washing the room in soft shades of blue.
Neither of them said anything.
Josh simply handed Tyler a paper cup of coffee before leaning against the counter beside him.
They stood there in silence, watching the sun slowly begin to rise.
For the first time in weeks, Tyler realized he wasn't waiting for the morning to fix him.
He was just grateful he hadn't watched it alone.