I Fancy The Singer (Book 1 // Joshler)

Part Øne

It was late at night when they played a hometown concert in Columbus, Ohio. The crowd cheered loud for them to hear, screams and cries of joy and excitement filled the concert hall, ringing in Tyler's ears. He had a smile on his face: a sweet smirk which enlightened the lives of many and pumped us all with adrenaline. Josh sat behind his drum kit, banging his snare with an unbelievable strength at a great speed, yet hitting every note with perfection. He jumped up in the air slightly as he brought his drumsticks back onto the skin of the instrument, creating a loud thud, the sound broken as it send out into the room, echoing in every inch.

Tyler stood on his piano, singing one last note before jumping off into the air, landing onto the front portion of the stage. He threw his hands up into the air and spun around, doing a little dance in which his arms rocked along the side of his body uncontrollably, in a silly kind of way. His eyes lit up the room: the color of his contacts burned a bright shade of red, matching Josh's hair. The air was filled with nothing but happiness, yet in that brief instant, it all changed.

Tyler was feeling light headed, he kept on spinning, one foot over the other, he stumbled around lightly until he lost control. The music kept playing but the vocals were gone. Tyler was on stage for a moment, the next he found himself on the cold, stone floor. As he fell off the stage, he hit his head and saw stars floating around the thin sky, followed by nothing but darkness; the familiarity eating him alive.

Immediately, as Josh caught sight of his best friend, panic filled up inside of him. He jumped up from behind his drums, threw his sticks onto the stage and ran across it, jumping off. He landed on both feet, crouched down as one hand touched the floor, and shot his head up, straightening his back. His eyes were fixed on Tyler who lay there, motionless. Fans were screaming and crying, the sound had faded long ago, Josh simply ran to him, pushing to the side the many security guards. He grabbed Tyler and held him, slightly shaking him trying to wake him from what felt like an eternal sleep.

Tyler still hadn't responded and Josh was immobile. He couldn't move, and the paramedics nearly pried the younger musician out of his arms. They laid Tyler down on a stretcher and pulled him in the back of the ambulance, Josh quickly jumping in behind him. He sat through the bumpy ride, staring at his best friend as the paramedics attached countless wires and tubes to his small body. His thoughts were everywhere, none in proper coordination and he was scared: scared he'd lose his best friend. They'd known each other for years, he doesn't remember a good memory without Tyler in it, and he can't see a future without Tyler, either. Nor would he ever want to.

When they finally reached the hospital, the long and never ending minutes were only beginning. He held his breath as he ran behind the doctors through the doors and down the halls, turning sharp corners at remarkable speed. It's funny what fear can do, how it can physically affect a person in ways they'd never imagine possible. As the doctors pushed the stretcher through wide doors, an arm was held out in front of Josh, stopping him from entering any further.

"I'm sorry sir, only the staff are allowed beyond this point. I'm afraid you'll have to wait."

Josh's breath was drained from him as he sighed heavily, managing a weak nod to the nurse who stood before him, as he turned back and sat down in the nearest waiting room. He could hear, feel even, his heart palpitating through his chest: it ached. He slouched back and ran tonight's events in his mind: concert, singing, drumming, falling, hospital. He thought about it, about the moment when Tyler was dancing happily and carefree on stage, the next second so precious as he fell from the platform.

Josh's hands rested on his lap, the blood from Tyler's head staining his dark jeans, not that he cared. The idea itself, the blood of your best friend literally on your hands, that's what bothered him and that sent shivers down his spine. He got up and made his way to the washroom to clean himself up. He looked down into the sink as the red water vanished down the drain. When his hands had returned to their original color, he looked up into the mirror: he was a mess. His red eye makeup ran down his face, staining his cheeks briefly with a combination of salted tears which left his eyes slightly puffy. He splashed some cold water on his face, attempting to be more presentable, in case Tyler would be awake.

Marching out, he sat back down and waited. Dangerously long hours later, a doctor came out and called for Josh, who immediately jumped up to his feet as if he wasn't a complete, sleep deprived and starving mess. The doctor eyed him up and down, with a look of slight concern and confusion, as he noticed the sweaty tank top which hung on Josh's shoulders, along with dry hair that had been tucked under a snapback, accompanied with skin tight jeans and vans. Josh had a large tattoo sleeve on his right arm, a tree which was bright and layered with sweat. The doctor had a judgemental look on his face, completely oblivious to the fact they were in mid-concert when the incident occurred.

"Mr. Joseph is out of surgery, you can see him if you'd like."

Josh nodded, probably way too enthusiastically and quickly followed the doctor down the many hallways of this hospital. Soon, he stood between the door of the room, the small cubicle that seemed to imprison his best friend. Tyler laid down, hooked on dozens of machines which beeped loudly and repetitively, next to the many tubes and wires which filled his arms and torso. The doctor stood back, "I'll give you two some time alone."

With that said, he walked away. Tyler looked so peaceful, it almost felt like a sin to intrude but Josh couldn't contain himself as he stepped inside. He pulled a chair and sat down by the bed, holding his breath, he was so scared. He closed his eyes for a moment as he inhaled fire and exhaled desire. Josh took Tyler's hand in his and gave it a light squeeze, the bits of remaining black body paint still making an appearance on Tyler's skin, was now on Josh's hand which made him chuckle. "Please wake up. I-I can't do this without you."

Tyler had helped Josh through so much, he knew everything there was to know about him. He knew him better than Josh knew himself. A few silence moments passed by, the beeping of machines and the ticking of a clock was all that you could hear in the room. It's funny to think, just hours ago, Josh was listening to Tyler's voice along with thousands of fans cheering and singing along with him, now, there was nothing but deadly silence: sometimes quiet is violent. The door swung open, and the doctor walked back in holding a syringe.

"Mr. Joseph should wake up soon, it's been an hour since his surgery. I'm just going to give him some more pain meds for when he does, in order to keep the pain to a minimal."

All Josh could manage to do was a nod, and watch as the doctor injected morphine into Tyler's vein. He sat down in front of Josh and they took this opportunity to get a proper medical history and tell him more about what had happened. Once that was complete, a faint knock was heard on the door, Josh turned around to see Kelly, Tyler's mother, walk in the room. She remained neutral, but Josh could tell she was hurting inside as she tried not to break down at this very moment. The doctor introduced himself and explained to her the condition Tyler was in. 

Josh's eyes were glued on Tyler who still hadn't moved yet. With a sigh, he grabbed his hand once again, this time probably more for himself than anything else. The texture of Tyler's skin mixed in with black body paint against Josh's hand felt nice. It was reassuring in a way and he closed his eyes, squeezing Tyler's hand. He almost drifted into a soft sleep when he felt his hand being held back. At first, he thought he was dreaming but it was only when he felt it again that he rushed open his eyes and nearly cried in joy as he saw Tyler's big brown eyes open and looking directly at him. They must have removed his red contacts during surgery. His eyes held a black and confused look, but Josh didn't care he was just so happy to see him alive.

The doctor had a smile on his face as he looked back at Tyler, taking out a small flashlight to check his pupil response. "Welcome back Tyler, you were injured during a concert. Do you know today's date?"

All eyes were fixed on him, and he swallowed hard as he struggled to speak, his throat dry and aching. Josh quickly poured him a glass of water and brought it to Tyler's lips who drank with thirst. He coughed quietly and opened his mouth, "Who's Tyler?"