demons » joshler

20

he wakes up.

tyler notices immediately, but not a single muscle in his face twitches. he waits, silently, for josh to 1. realize where he is, and 2. react to it.

which he does.

am i- josh starts, and tyler nods silently. 

well, add that to the long list of things he's failed so far in his life. a list that, if written down, would be longer than frickin' lord of the rings. as in, very long.

he looks down the bed, down the clinical stiff white sheets, and lifts an arm. his wrist is covered in bandages. huh, he comments, noticing the faint pink that stains them, and tyler finally grimaces.

don't you get it? he asks. what you did?

of course i get it, josh answers. i tried to kill myself, and i failed. he looks at tyler. isn't that right?

well, yes, but-

what? josh's voice drops to a whisper. is this about the tour? the press? the publicity?

the look on tyler's face tells him everything.

recoiling in disgust, josh pulls the stiff sheets to his chin. god, he says, is that all you care about? is that all i am to you? i mean, i've always known i was, and that's pretty much a good reason for why we're here right now, but dang tyler, i didn't know you were this desperate.

the blood has drained from tyler's face and he's white as a sheet. regret paints every line and colors his eyes. i'm sorry, josh, he mumbles, then blinks. wait, did you say i'm the reason you- you tried to-

josh looks at him without a word, thinking to himself. how dense can tyler be? does he not remember how obvious he made it that he only wanted josh to make out with him? even being in a band, josh was easily replaceable, and tyler never did anything to alleviate that feeling. he only shamed josh when the drummer did something wrong during the show.

bad publicity. bad publicity. bad publicity.

it's always bad publicity when it comes to josh.

what. a. failure.