close as strangers ↣ joshler ✓

7. Breathe

This whole chapter is like one big panic attack so if those make you feel unsafe I would skip this chapter altogether. If you need to know what you're missing just comment.

Josh had to get it just right. If he didn't get this done he and Reagan would be fucked.

He stood behind the counter at work, his sketch book on top of it. He had put a post on the shop's instagram (with Frank's permission) asking if anyone wanted to buy a piece of artwork from him and he had actually gotten quite a few responses. He wasn't supposed to worry about it but what else was he going to do? Reagan knew he had been drawing more than usual but didn't question it since Josh drew all the time.

He was currently working on the last one he needed but his brain felt fried. Josh was exhausted too since he had stayed up until three working on a drawing and then had to come in for work at nine.

"What are you drawing?" A voice asked, causing Josh to jump. He turned around and saw Frank standing behind him, an eyebrow raised. "You okay?"

"Yeah sorry 'm just tired and stressed," he rubbed his face. "I'm dealing with some shit and I just gotta push through it," he looked back down at the drawing. "It's supposed to be a vulture or some shit but I can't get the face to look right. Who even knows how to draw a vulture? Who the fuck even likes vultures?"

"I dunno man," he shrugged. "I mean I've got an appointment in an hour and you've got one at five so it shouldn't be boring as fuck for too much longer. It's already three thirty."

"Okay," Josh replied distractedly, his hand shaking as he erased the vulture's head.

"Josh..." Frank put a tattooed hand on the mentioned's shoulder. "How about you head home for the day? I can cover your appointment or see if they can reschedule," he suggested.

"I-I can't," he took a shaky breath. "I gotta stay here so I get paid and I have to help you out and I can't let Reagan down," he felt his breath hitch no matter how hard he tried not. He could not have a panic attack in front of Frank.

"Josh... it's fine. Really," Frank assured. Josh felt himself start to get lightheaded again and he swallowed roughly to avoid crying. However, his plans went to shit when he felt a tear slip from his eye and fall onto his sketchbook. His hand was still shaking and he felt like couldn't breathe. "Josh?" His boss asked softly. "Oh shit."

"I'm fine," Josh croaked out, wiping his eyes. His breathing was ragged and he went to take a step back but stumbled slightly. Frank quickly grabbed his arms to steady him.

"Hey, let's sit down. Do you think you can make it to the chair?"

Josh simply shook his head, a sob escaping his lips. He didn't know why he was having another panic attack three days later but he was and he didn't know how to handle it. "I feel like I can't breathe," he held a hand to his chest.

"Fuck," Frank looked panicked himself and that only worried Josh more. "I don't know what to do in these situations. Let's sit on the floor so you don't pass out or anything."

Josh slid against the wall, sitting on the floor and bringing his knees to his chest. "I really can't breathe, Frank," Josh gasped, hit tears running down his red and blotchy face.

"Okay uh..." he paused. "What do you need?"

"Reagan," Josh sobbed out, putting his head on his knees and crying.

"Got it," Josh heard Frank say. He also heard the sound of the phone ringing over the blood rushing in his ears. "Reagan? Shit. Can you come down here as soon as possible? Josh is having a panic attack and I don't know what to do and he said he wanted you," pause. "Yeah," pause. "No he was just drawing," pause. "Okay yeah," Josh felt someone sit down beside him. "Josh? Reagan's on the phone."

Josh couldn't reply. He felt like he couldn't even breathe let one carry on a conversation. "Josh?" He heard his girlfriend speak. "Hey baby I'm on my way right now I just got in my car. I'll be there in ten minutes but can I talk to you while I drive?" Josh nodded but he was too focused on trying to regulate his breathing to worry about her not seeing it. She seemed to understand anyway. "Okay can you count to ten with me?"

"Counting to ten is bullshit!" Josh sobbed out, feeling his head start to pound and his heart beat so fast he thought it was going to explode. "I'm gonna die. I can't breathe. I'm gonna die."

The next ten minutes went by in a flash, Josh only remembering sobbing, gasping for air, and Reagan talking even though he never answered.

Suddenly, he felt someone grab his hands which had been clamped to the top of the snapback he was wearing and he looked up to see Reagan looking at him sadly through his teary eyes. What he didn't know was that she was crying too. "Josh? I'm right here. What do you need from me?"

"I'm gonna die," Josh gasped out. "I can't fucking breathe."

"It's going to be okay," Reagan promised, her voice wobbly. "Do you want some water?"

Josh nodded and although Reagan never left his side, she was holding a cup of water a few seconds later. Josh's hands were shaking too to grab it so Reagan helped tip the cup to his mouth. He only got a little in before pulling back, gasping for air once again.

"You're doing great, baby," Reagan assured. "Match my breathing, okay?"

Josh tried his hardest to slow his breathing and he clenched on to Reagan's hands tightly as he did so. Eventually, his heart slowed down and he could feel oxygen entering his body again. Fresh tears stopped forming and the only ones left were the ones on his face and his and Reagan's hands. "Are you okay?" He heard Frank speak.

Josh looked over and saw a terrified and worried look on his friend's face. Josh's lip quivered and he shut his eyes, another tear cascading down his face. This wasn't from his panic attack. This was just him feeling broken. "No," he shook his head as it leaned against the wall. "I don't think I am. I don't know what's wrong but something is wrong."

A distraught look overcame Frank. "I wish I could help."

"I wish you could too."

"Josh?" Reagan got his attention. He looked back again at her and he saw she was crying.

"Please don't cry," he sobbed out. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Regan shook her head. "Josh. I don't think you're okay either. I think you might need to go see someone."

"Like who? A therapist?"

"Yeah," she nodded, letting go of one of Josh's hand to wipe her face.

"I can't," he shook his head. "Tyler's a therapist. I can't do that. All I'll think about is him and I fucking hate him."

"Josh... I love you. You trust me right?"

"Of course," he replied instantly, no hesitation in his voice. "I love you too."

"I need you to trust me on this," she told him seriously. "I wouldn't recommend it if I didn't think you needed help. Besides, Tyler's not here, right? He can't get to you."

Josh sighed, another tear rolling down his cheek. "Okay," he looked at her with red puffy eyes. "I'm not doing this for me though. I'm doing it for you."

"As long as you're trying to get better. That's all I can ask of you— is that you try."

"Josh," Frank interrupted. "This might be obvious but you're going home for the rest of the day. I care about you and I know you need a break."

"Thanks," Josh smiled weakly.

"C'mon, let's go home. I'll get you situated before I go back to work."

"I appreciate you," he looked up at her as she stood up. "So much."

"I appreciate you too, baby."