My Catastrophe ➳ Tyler Joseph [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter Four

I finally convinced Tyler to go back to my apartment and face his family. "You're not going to feel any better if you wait," I had told him. He eventually decided that I had a point and listened to my advice.

When he stood up from the merry-go-round, his legs were shaking and he seemed so unsure of himself.

"What if there's no point?" He asked, staring down at my face.

"No point to what?"

"This. All of it. Loving, feeling, existing... It just seems like everything ends badly. You love someone and they decide not to love you back. You feel heartbroken, the pain eating away at your chest. You exist only to die. Why? I'm no more important than the next person; I'm not special." Tyler's voice was so low and fragile.

"But you are. I've heard the stories from Josh, and I've heard your music. The things you feel and have to say are what have saved so many lives. You make the world a better place and I wish you could just see how many people need you," I replied, walking slowly up the road toward where I live.

"But how can I save other people's lives when I don't know if I can even save my own?"

I didn't have an answer to that. I silently hugged the tall boy because sometimes a gentle touch means a lot more than uncertain words ever could.

When we arrived back at my apartment, we opened the door only to find everyone playing Charades. Josh's sister Ashley was trying to be a giraffe and failing quite miserably.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and their faces dropped simultaneously, concern and unasked questions turned the air into a suffocation device.

Tyler cleared his throat in apprehension, messing up his hair with his long fingers. "Um, so..."

"It's okay," I whispered from the boy's side, rubbing his back in certitude.

"Right, well. Here's the thing. J-Jenna and I haven't been the same in a while and we sort of, separated?" The end of his word arose, causing it to sound more like a question. "That happened a few weeks ago. Anyway, as of yesterday, we're getting a divorce."

I could physically feel all the air get sucked out of the room. Tears were being shed, curse words were being yelled. Tyler's mom leaped from her spot at the kitchen table and ran to her son, crying and hugging him tightly. She apologized profusely and Tyler seemed to have turned to stone.

"I-I'll just go over here," I announced in a whisper, about to tiptoe through the crowd and find Josh. But before I could take more than a step, Tyler's hand shot out and grabbed my forearm.

"Please stay," he nearly cried. His mother was still hugging him, her tears flowing freely onto the crook of his neck, tears threatening to spill down his face as well. I simply nodded and did as the sad boy asked.

•

December 4, 2015

That was 3 days ago. Tyler's parents took him home with them and Josh went back to his place. Just like that, I'm alone again. Only, I'm not. My phone is constantly buzzing with a new text from one of the boys. It's kind of like they have some sort of separation anxiety or something.

Buzz... Buzz...

Sigh. There it goes again.

Tyler Joseph: Can I come over? Josh isn't home and my parents are suffocating me.

I silently chuckle at the message, my thumbs flying over the touchscreen of my phone, sending a positive response.

I clamber out from under my blankets and glance in the mirror. My hair highly resembles a bird's nest and my face is naked of makeup. I shrug out of my oversized AC/DC tee shirt and patterned penguin pajama pants (say that four times fast!) before locating a bra and clean clothes on my bedroom floor.