confess Ξ tyler joseph x reader

july 10th, 2017

[you]
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"Y'know, for someone who makes millions of dollars making music, your house is surprisingly... normal," you commented as you looked around the small two-bedroom ranch.

"I never really cared to get a huge house. The only thing I've spent a lot of money on is my studio," he explained.

"Your studio?" You looked back at him with intrigue. "Can I see?"

"Of course," he grinned.

He led you up the hall and down a flight of stairs, opening a door at the end. "I converted it from the basement."

You gasped. "There's so much here."

Three different electric basses lined the walls, along with five ukuleles. A computer was set up in the middle of the room at a huge desk with an electric piano. In the back corner was a drumset, and the entire room was lined with acoustic panels.

"This is incredible."

He grinned shyly, scratching the back of his head. "The whole thing cost nearly half a million dollars."

Your eyes widened. "Seriously? This must be state-of-the-art."

He shrugged. "I mean, it's close... but nothing too crazy."

"So which ones do you use for touring?" You asked, your eyes grazing over the instruments on the wall.

"I use this bass," he answered, patting one on the body, "I call him Myfren. He's been with me forever."

You cocked an eyebrow. "Myfren? Sounds like something you'd call Josh."

He grinned shyly. "Yeah, you're right."

We continued chatting about basses and ukuleles for a while, then he gave me a tour of the rest of his house. After about a half hour, we ended up in the kitchen. "And that's it," he grinned. "Ta-da!"

You chuckled. "It's surprisingly well-kept... for a single man."

"Hey!" He laughed. "Rude. I feel attacked."

Suddenly, your phone began to vibrate. You fished it out of your back pocket and looked at the screen. "Crap," you mumbled. It was your best friend, Justice.

"Yeah?" You mumbled into the receiver after picking up.

"WHERE ARE YOU?!?!"

You pulled the phone away from your ear and cringed.

Tyler gave you a sympathetic look. You mouthed a sorry.

"Y-you'll never believe me," you began, laughing nervously.

"OH, THIS BETTER BE GOOD!" Justice shouted. You cringed again.

"Well, see, I was walking down 451st, and this guy shoved me into a puddle... but then it turned out that I knew the guy. And... you'll never guess who it was."

Silence.

"It was Tyler Joseph."

A deep breath came from the other side. "For a second there I thought you were gonna say—" She paused, as if just coming to a realization. "—WAIT, TYLER JOSEPH?!?!? LIKE, TYLER ROBERT JOSEPH???? OF TWENTY ONE PILOTS????!?!??!!!"

You laughed, shooting Tyler and apologetic look. He was losing it, he cracked up silently while you suffered with your psychotic friend.

"Yes... yep, that's the one," you affirmed.

Silence.

Deep breaths from the other side.

"I'm fine."

Another pause.

"Look, [y/n], I'm leaving for Mississippi today to visit my mom and I need to give you Muffs," she informed me.

"Oh, yeah, shoot." Muffs was her golden retriever puppy. You completely forgot that you'd promised to take care of him while she was gone. "Yeah, I'll be there in a half hour."

"Thanks. I'm not forgetting about this, though. I expect you to have him autograph my Blurryface cd, my Clique flag, my five hoodies, my six shir—"

"Okaycomingsoonloveyoubye." You quickly hung up and sighed. "Sorry. She's still a bit of a fangirl."

He chuckled. "I missed her too. We'll have to meet up soon."

You nodded. "Definitely."

He smiled. You didn't want to go, but you knew you had to.

"Alright, Ty, I better get home."

"I'll give you a ride," he offered, smiling.

You smiled. "Thank you. I really did not want to walk all the way there."

"No problem," he smiled.

As you continued talking, and as he drove you home, you marveled at how much he'd changed... yet how little he'd changed. It was the same Tyler, that was certain, but... he'd matured. He was an adult.

And you wondered where this Tyler had been all your life.
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