Let's Recelebrate (a Joshler story) (Celebrate ALTERNATE version)

⭒ XXI ⭒

Hey friends! We're back with a new chapter whew! Really excited to hear what you guys think of this one! This is the last chapter that's gonna fully focus on Tyler - after this there'll be a mix of both, but more focus on Josh I think.

Thank you all so so much for your support ♥️ really means so so much to me. Please don't forget to leave a vote ♥️ and if you could let me know what you think, I'd love to hear that!

Yes, still gonna write for my other story this week, don't worry 😉

Let's get into this chapter! Really can't wait to hear what you think. Love you all so much and I hope you enjoy! ♥️♥️

Word count: 5561

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Tyler had his headphones on, music playing loudly in his ears. He'd used his stereo at first, but when he got complains from the neighbors, he had to switch to his headphones.

"I'm drowning in the bottom of a bottle, running from a man I swore I'd never be", Tyler sang along to a song, stumbling as he danced around his apartment, face tear stained and raw, taking a big swig from the bottle of vodka in his hand. He held the neck of the bottle between his thumb, ring finger and pinky, while using the other two fingers to hold his cigarette.

"No one ever had to face tomorrow, but I'm the one that has to face me", he continued, using his free hand to wipe some of the tears away. "It's the demons I've created for myself; the tragic truth. It's hard for me to understand myself, so it has to be hard as hell for you", he cried. He took another big gulp of the bottle, his world slightly spinning. He stumbled to the tv stand, and he grabbed the photo frame that was on there. "This is not what I wanted, not what I need. Take it all, tear it all, rip it all away", he whispered, still singing along to the song.

He took a gulp from the bottle, before he put it down. He took a drag from his cigarette.

"Fuck you", he said as he looked at the picture of him and Lucas in the photo frame, before he spat on the glass, and then threw it to the ground, shattering the frame.

He walked up to it, bare feet between the shards of glass, as he picked up the photo. "Fuck you", Tyler said again as he stared at the picture, before he ripped it.

Not through Lucas, who was also in the picture. He ripped right through the middle of his own face, because he'd been talking to himself. He wasn't talking about Lucas, when he said fuck you. He let the ripped off piece fall to the ground before he folded the other part, hiding what remained of his own face by folding it to the back, while leaving Lucas's face intact on the picture. He bit his lip, more tears welling up. He pressed a kiss to the picture before he held Lucas to his chest, breath stuttering as he did so.

He missed Lucas extremely, terribly, and blamed it all on himself. He mistreated his lover, he ignored his lover, he made no sacrifices for his lover, he didn't take his lover's feelings in consideration enough. He hated himself.

He took one more drag of his cigarette before he extinguished it on his forearm. It burned, it hurt, but somehow Tyler felt numb as he created yet another burn mark on his arm. He tossed the cigarette bud in the ash tray before he grabbed the bottle of vodka again, finished the last of the bottle, and he tossed it to the corner with the other bottles he'd already finished. Some had remained intact, some had shattered, but there was glass all throughout his apartment and his bare feet had suffered the consequences of it. But Tyler, he didn't care. He felt too hurt on the inside to care about the pain on the outside. He felt numb on the outside.

Tyler smoked more cigarettes, opened a bottle of bourbon, listened to music that he sang along to loudly, he danced and stumbled around his apartment while ignoring the stinging pain in his bare feet, and at one point the alcohol was making him feel so drowsy, he was stumbling so much and he couldn't walk properly and he kept losing his balance.