I Fancy The Singer (Book 1 // Joshler)

Part Twø

Every time Josh walked into that hospital room, it seemed to have shrunk; gotten smaller during his brief absence. He simply shook it off and sat down by the bed, where Tyler sat up eating chocolate pudding. The doctor had previously explained that with the trauma received, it's normal for Tyler to forget things, temporary amnesia was very common in similar cases, but it's been a week. Tyler had remembered nearly everything except for the two things that mattered most to him: Josh and music. Based on what the doctor said, that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

With a large sigh, Kelly signed the release papers and they all got into the car, driving back to Tyler's home, where he grew up. Familiar surroundings would make him more comfortable, so Josh pushed the idea of taking him back to their apartment out of his head immediately since he'd forgotten who he was.

Tyler walked to his old room with an innocent smile while Josh followed, carrying a bag with a few items Tyler's mom had brought him. When Tyler pushed open the door, everything he saw felt like home, from his old teddy bear to a few stray books, it was overall heart-warming. He threw himself onto the bed and took in a deep breath of air, inhaling the familiar scents he'd been craving so dearly. After a minute or two, Tyler lifted up his head, detangled his fingers and lifted his arms up from under his hair to sit up. He tilted his head at Josh, starring at him with a confused look for a moment or so before asking, "Who are you, again?"

Josh felt a sharp pain shoot up inside of him but swallowed it back down, keeping a neutral expression on his face. He and Kelly had decided he'd stay here for a while as an exchange student from...Canada! With the amount of bacon and maple syrup, the boy could consume, the lie would be no problem to feed. He took a breath and dropped the bag beside his feet while taking a seat on the desk chair, which stood in the middle of the room.

"I'm Josh, an exchange student from Canada. I, uh, I live here, too." He gave him a weak smile, as the words burned his lips with every pronunciation. Tyler nodded carelessly, it wasn't that he didn't believe him, just he didn't necessarily remember him. The awkward silence was interrupted by the ringing of Josh's cell phone, his ringtone being, of course, Tear In My Heart, the song Tyler had obviously written about him. He let the catchy music play out for a few more seconds before leaving the room and answering it.

"Hello?"

"Josh? Hi, it's me Chris, how's Tyler doing?"

Josh sighed heavily, as he looked back through the crack of the room and then spotted Tyler carelessly smiling into the air as he noticed a painting he'd drawn in third grade. He turned back and proceeded to tell their manager, Chris Woltman, the ugly truth. "It's not looking good, Chris. He doesn't remember me, nor does he remember Twenty One Pilots."

"Well, the tour's on hold obviously, most likely canceled. Just try to relax and see if you can get him to remember anything, alright?"

"Alright." Josh hung up and re-entered the room, catching Tyler in mid yawn. Josh chuckled as he turned off the light. "Tired? Here get some rest, I'm gonna go make us something to eat."

Tyler didn't argue, he just laid down with a nod as Josh turned on his heels, closing the door quietly behind him. Making his way up the stairs, Josh sighed. The wall along the stairs had rectangular shadows along it, he still had the permanent memory of all the photographs that once hung. The doctor had suggested removing all evidence of memories that Tyler doesn't remember, not to freak him out. This wall was once covered with dozen memories they shared; the ones from before they got famous and meant something to everyone. Back when they only meant something to each other.

The smell of a home cook meal quickly diffused into the air, hitting Josh rather quickly as he reached the last step, inhaling deep breaths of it. He hadn't had anything real to eat in days, and beforehand with the tour and all, barely had any real food at all. Walking into the kitchen, he quickly identified the source of the odor: a toasty, golden lasagna resting on the top of the oven, steam slowly rising from the baked cheese.