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Really, it was all Tyler’s fault.
He should have prepared himself a little better, or actually told the creative director that he didn’t like the idea. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. Tyler completely agreed that it would look awesome, perfectly capturing the essence of the song. The only issue was that Tyler would have to do all these things. Honestly, he should have thought it through a little more. Now he was on set, and there was absolutely nothing he could do.
Just deal with it. Don’t be a baby.
Tyler shook his head roughly, trying to get rid of all these thoughts. He’d be fine.
“All good, Ty?” Josh was staring at him from across the room, having his hair styled.
When Tyler didn’t answer, Josh waved off the stylist, ignoring her protests and walking over. He placed a gentle hand on Tyler’s shoulder.
“You okay?” It snapped him back into gear, and he shook his head again.
“I’m alright.” Tyler moved away, not wanting to look his friend in the eyes. “Things to do.”
He knew it was rude, and Josh was only trying to help. But he couldn’t face him right now. Not now.
Everything was too much. People were touching him constantly, hands wrapped around his throat and face. It took everything Tyler had not to flinch away each time. It had all been explained to him, and he’d agreed, albeit reluctantly. Now he was severely regretting that agreement. It was going to look cool, that was all Tyler could be certain of. At the very least, while they were filming, Tyler could release his twitches and weird movements. They’d be played off as part of the performance, not part of him. Still, it was nerve-wracking to have all these people see him like this.
Tyler wanted to go home. He wanted to run into his bedroom and lock the door, and collapse to the floor and probably sob his eyes out. He wanted to finally write that note, to give in.
He stayed dead still as some makeup artist touched his face, hardly able to contain his twitches. It wasn’t that he hated touch. But these were strangers, and they didn’t know what was okay and what wasn’t. It was overwhelming. Painful. He couldn’t be himself here.
Having spent most of the day already stuck in his head, Tyler hadn’t noticed Josh wander over to him until the man touched him. He frowned for a moment, ignoring his instinct to pull away. Josh was brushing his hands playfully over Tyler’s shoulders, like he did when they were just joking around. He forced a smile onto his face that quickly became a genuine one, as Josh grinned at him. The man’s energy was infectious.
Maybe Tyler could get through this. If he was lucky.
|-/
The moment he saw the noose, sitting in that cardboard box, Tyler knew he wasn’t going to make it out of this video shoot. He knew he wouldn’t be able to recover from this feeling, bubbling in his chest as he stared at the rope.
This is all you ever wanted. Right here.
His chest tightened, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
Let it strangle you. No more than you deserve.
Tyler was keenly aware of a camera coming toward him, but he couldn’t seem to move. Did it matter? Did anything matter? All he could do was breathe, shallow breaths that left his chest tingling.
It would be so easy. You tried so hard to get better, but it never goes away. It’ll go away if you just give in.
Why had he agreed to this? Why had he ignored his body tensing up every time the idea was brought up? Why, why, why? The camera was practically in his face now, and all he wanted was to scream at the person holding it. Go away!
He forced himself to look up, making eye contact with the lens. Tyler prayed that whoever was in charge of editing would have the good sense to cut this part. No one would want to show their lead singer staring longingly at a noose.
Tyler cursed himself for not bringing his old rubber band. He hadn’t thought he’d need it ever again, not after he got these tattoos. He was supposed to be better now. Wasn’t supposed to rely on the painful snaps of a rubber band against his wrist just to make it through the day.
Subconsciously, his fingers strayed to his wrist anyway, tracing over the inked lines.
“Ready?”
To Tyler’s surprise, it wasn’t the director walking over to him. It was Josh. He seemed hesitant, like he didn’t approve of this upcoming scene.
“Yeah,” he lied. “I’m ready.”
He lay down uncomfortably, as the rope was draped over his neck. It was physically difficult, trying to stay upright as he was being pulled down by the heavy rope. Psychologically? It destroyed him. Finish this take. Finish this take, and then it’s over.
But he couldn’t hold it together. There was a noose around his throat, pressing against his pulse. He struggled against the rough texture, and it took everything he had to hold in his emotions. He would have screamed, hit himself, done anything, if there weren’t so many damn cameras on him. Tyler knew he was messed up, but there was a special part of him that was even worse. No one should ever have to see that.
He was twitching, hands moving around desperately, shaking his head, trying to release this energy somehow. He even made a final, frantic prayer that went unheard. He couldn’t do this.
Tyler sat up abruptly, throwing the rope off of his neck. He folded forward, dropping his head into his hands. Don’t cry, don’t cry!
Someone was touching his shoulder, and he flinched away roughly. He wanted to scream, and cry, and yell at all of these people. In a messed-up way, he wanted all of them to see what was happening in his head. He wanted them to know just how close he was to losing it.
“Get away from him!” Someone yelled, and for a brief moment Tyler thought he might have a guardian angel. Who else would know exactly what was happening and how to help?
Thoughts swirled through Tyler’s head. He couldn’t follow any of them anywhere understandable; they all just resulted in the air being stolen from his lungs and the earth tilting.
“Tyler?” A soft voice asked. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
He tried to respond, but he couldn’t manage anything coherent, tears flooding his vision. He nodded instead. Hands rested on his shaking shoulders, squeezing gently.
“Hey, Ty, just breathe. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Josh. It was Josh, kneeling in front of him, concern written across his face. Tyler blinked away tears, only finding it harder and harder to contain himself.
“Don’t wanna do this here,” Tyler’s voice broke. “Everyone’s looking. Cameras.”
The man looked around, then stood up. Tyler realised he was blocking the camera’s view of him, shielding him. He fought not to break down. His hand fluttered by his side, trying to let out some of that energy.
“Okay, let’s get out of here. Can you stand up?” He nodded quickly. “Let’s go. Just follow me.”
Josh pulled him to his feet, grabbing Tyler’s shoulder and ushering him out of the room. He was still using his body to shield Tyler from the cameras as best he could while they moved.
Tyler tried to run, but he was starting to shut down. In a lot of ways, he was different to Josh. His best friend released his anxiety through movement, running, boxing and skateboarding. Tyler, on the other hand, just shut down completely. He wasn’t able to move or do anything at all when things got bad.
“You’re good, almost there. Bathroom.”
He managed to make it inside before collapsing to his knees. Josh locked the door and knelt beside him. Tyler yanked at the jacket, it was choking him, he couldn’t move properly, he needed it gone.
“Let me help,” Josh whispered, easing the jacket off of his body. He tossed it into the corner of the small room. “Let me get the collar too.”
Tyler locked his eyes onto Josh, doing everything in his power to appear normal. That seemed impossible, so he settled for just holding back sobs and keeping his twitchy movements to a minimum. His best friend was so focused, brows furrowed as he fiddled with the top button of his shirt and his bow tie.
Finally, he was released and took a gasping breath. Tyler hadn’t even realised he’d been trying so hard to look normal that he’d stopped breathing. He tapped his hands to the sides of his face, once, twice, three times. Another three.
“Hey, you’re okay. Focus on breathing, yeah?”
Tyler couldn’t. Instead, he let out a muffled scream into his arm. He hated the way Josh flinched at the sudden noise. A firm hand rested on his back.
“Let it out,” was all Josh said.
So he did. He curled up with his head almost touching the tiles, knees pressed into the ground. He screamed again, tearing up his throat. His hand began to move, almost of its own accord, slamming repeatedly against the tiles. It wasn’t enough. Harsh sobs followed, not getting any quieter.
Tyler had hoped that he could just cry it out and calm down quickly enough. It didn’t work. He wasn’t grounded enough for that, his mind floating around separate from his body. Everything was screaming at him.
“Ty, can I hold you?” Josh asked cautiously.
“Yeah,” he choked, almost unintelligible.
Strong arms were around him, crushing his soul back into his body. His fingers curled and then released, again, again, again.
“Okay, just listen to my voice. I’m right here, and I’m not leaving until you’re okay. I promise.”
He nodded against the man’s chest, fighting with himself not to hit Josh by accident. He was twitching even against the tight embrace. Was this a crisis? Was now a good time to tell Josh that he'd lied right to his face about being fine? Tyler had messed up today, and he couldn't say what he needed.
“I want you to focus on your breathing. We wanna take deep breaths, in and out. That’ll help you feel better. Do it with me? In…” he squeezed Tyler tightly. “And out. That’s good.”
“I need…” he mumbled, trying to articulate what was going through his head.
“What do you need, Ty?”
“Something that hurts. Sorry. Need to be real.”
“Don’t have to apologise, man.” Josh massaged his shoulders firmly. “Can you try telling me what upset you so bad? I know it was the noose, but talk to me about it.”
Tyler was drowning. He didn’t have the inhibitions he normally would about telling Josh these things.
“I tried to hang myself. Once.” The words echoed in the tiled room. “And it didn’t work, but I know what it feels like.”
“And you felt it again today.” Josh’s voice wavered.
“Yeah. But it made me think…I want to try again. I could just…I could just try again.”
“Oh. Oh, Ty…” Josh seemed lost for words.
Silence filled the room, broken only by Tyler’s soft sniffles and the sound of his fist slamming into the tiled ground. He'd have bruises tomorrow, that would be hard to explain. Messed-up, weirdo, freak. Josh would leave, and he'd be all alone. No, no, no.
“I’m okay. It’s just a thought. Wouldn’t really do it,” Tyler muttered.
“Good. Just keep on breathing for me, bud. It’s all gonna be okay.”
“Okay,” he whispered hollowly, throat burning. “I trust you.”
Arms tightened around him at those words. He thought Josh might be shaking. Maybe it was just him, and he couldn’t tell.
“Tyler, here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re going home now. I don’t care about the schedule, I care about you, and being here right now is not good for you. So I’m taking you home, and we can pick this up again tomorrow. You wanna go get your stuff?”
“Alright. Are you sure it’s okay…”
“Yes. If anyone has a problem, they can talk to me about it,” he said firmly.
It was strange. Josh was possibly the least confrontational person that Tyler had ever met.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here. If you go grab your stuff, I’ll meet you at the car? I just have to talk to someone first.”
“Sure.”
Josh patted his back, then helped him to his feet. He stepped forward, steadying Tyler as he trembled and swayed. The earth tilted a little too much on its axis. Stars danced across his vision. Everything felt bad, and Tyler had no idea how he was going to look after himself. Secretly, he really hoped Josh would take care of him. Even if he couldn't voice that hope.
“Let’s add some food and water to our little plan. You need it.”
Tyler nodded hesitantly.
“Alright. Meet at the car in five.”
|-/
They went their separate ways, Tyler wandering around and finding his bag, discarded on the floor. Thankfully, only Mark came over to talk to him.
“Hey, you okay, man?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Goin’ home now. Sorry I ruined everything.”
“Nope. You’re all good, Tyler, you need to prioritise your health. I assume Josh is going with you?” He nodded. “Good. Have him call me, and I’ll talk to him about rescheduling. You rest up, okay? Make sure he takes good care of you.”
Tyler nodded again, managing a weak smile.
“Do you, uh, know where he is?”
“I did see him walking down that way,” Mark said, pointing. “Looked like a man on a mission, don’t know what he was doing.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mark. I’ll…see you around.”
“See you, man.”
He wandered down the hallway he’d been directed to, following the muffled sound of voices. He was about to turn the corner when he realised someone was yelling. Tyler tried to listen without being seen. Then he realised who the voice belonged to. Josh.
“How dare you film him like that? Do you have a shred of human empathy?” Josh yelled. “If even a second of that footage ends up in the video, I’m…I’m gonna make you regret it.”
“We were just supposed to film, whatever happens-” one guy piped up.
“I can’t believe you people,” he scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t care what you were supposed to do. Delete it. Now!”
Josh never got mad. Never.
“Learn some goddamn common sense before I see you again. And keep the camera out of his face. You disgust me.”
Then he was storming out of the room, almost running straight into Tyler.
“Oh, hey! I-I didn’t know you were right there, uh, did you…” he stuttered awkwardly.
“I heard. Thank you, Josh.”
The man’s mouth hung open.
“You’re not…mad?”
“No. It was kinda cool, actually,” he admitted, smiling softly. “Crazy to see you actually get mad for once. You know, you act all tough, but you’re the nicest guy ever.”
Josh blushed slightly, but Tyler noticed. It brought a weak smile to his face. Josh always had that effect on him.
“Well, in that case, you’re welcome. Hey, is that a real, proper smile I see?” Josh grinned. “Let’s get you home. I'm staying at your place tonight.”
Tyler managed a stronger smile. He might be the luckiest man on earth to have a best friend like Josh.