semi-automatic | joshler

7. sweetheart

notes:

if you're reading this, don't be scared to comment (like please, comment, okay thank you).

Play the song: "Afraid" by The Neighbourhood.

•

It's almost midnight, when Josh's intense thinking about a new drum beat to the song he's going to play, interrupts a sound of a car entering his driveway, and the sight of exactly Brendon's car.

Josh is not surprised anymore, why Brendon decided to appear right here so late. He always comes back drunk from parties, too scared to come back to his own house, as Josh is the only one who always stays home. Josh puts his pencil down on a desk and looks at Brendon, who gets out of the car and walks towards the garage.

"Dude, I need your help."

Josh sighs. "Of course," he murmurs.

"I need you to take Tyler."

Josh raises his eyebrows and looks at Brendon expectantly. "Take Tyler? Where?" Brendon doesn't respond, just stares at him, hoping, that Josh would understand. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Josh begins to know, what's going on. "No, Brendon. No way."

"Josh, come on," Brendon pleads, and with that Josh stands up and approaches the car. He opens the passenger door to see a small, dark figure curled up helplessly on a front seat. The same figure, that ran into his household in the middle of the night yesterday. "I can't take him home, when he's like... that."

Josh looks up at Brendon and whispers loudly, "What have you done to him?"

"Nothi—"

"Is he even conscious?" Josh snaps. He's never cared, what Brendon was doing with his friends at house parties; that was and that still is none of his business, what condition they were in, and how Brendon managed to bring them home before midnight. Now it's a serious case, if he decided to bring a boy to Josh. He is ready do punch Brendon in the face, hard.

"No," he says, still staring at Josh with a dull expression, already being aware of the seriousness of the situation. He knows Josh isn't going to obey easily. He never does. However, there's always time to try. They stay like that, Brendon blinking in Josh's direction, and Josh giving him a mortal glare. He needs to know his actions have consequences. "He just drank too much."

Josh sighs. "What did he drink?"

Brendon avoids Josh's eyes and answers quickly, "Flame throwers."

Josh's eyes widen.

"F—what? Which of you fuckers gave him that shit to drink?" he interrupts. His voice begins to be much louder, than it is allowed in the neighbourhood in the middle of the night. Brendon only rolls his eyes, and Josh already knows the answer. What an idiot. Josh is used to Brendon's weird ideas, especially, when he's drunk, but right now he apparently isn't drunk, and this exceed his expectations. A flame thrower is grain alcohol mixed with cherry Kool-Aid. He might as well have chloroformed that boy. "What were you thinking?!"

He crouches down to observe the boy still giving no sign of life, and touches his arm. Nothing. He shushes his voice, "He weights, like, fifty pounds. You are insane."

"Yes, dad. I know, right? I didn't know he wouldn't handle it."

"Does he look like somebody who drinks to stay alive, like you?" Josh asks, touching the boys hair, and examining, what condition he is in.

"He looked so sad all the time. We wanted to cheer him up."

"I fucking hate you," Josh growls and stands up. The boy is really small and fragile-looking, and Josh has no idea, what came into Brendon's mind to even take him to that party, if he wasn't going to look after him. Josh knows exactly, how house parties at Brendon's friends' look like.