dead memories.

14. your silence is a blessing

Joey's POV

I tap my fingers nervously on my lap, squirming in the passenger seat. I feel sick.

"So why'd you have me drive you and not Corey?" Shawn asks and I look over.

"He was um, busy. Couldn't."

"Busy doing what? He would literally do anything for you. Even miss out on his drug break." Shawn interrogates me. Fuck. I didn't know he'd be so nosey.

"What? No he wouldn't. He doesn't even like me that much," I look down at my lap.

"Cut the bullshit, Joey. He does. He goes on about you all the time when we're out and left with our own shenanigans while you're home with that sappy little bitch of yours. It's like he admires you." Shawn says and I feel a pit in my stomach. He's probably lying.

"I doubt it." I state.

"I'm being serious, J, he does. It almost gets annoying," Shawn laughs.

"Why would he talk about me, anyway? I'm not all that great. What is there even to say?"

"I don't know. He just says lovey dovey shit like you two are dating. He probably likes you." Shawn shrugs.

"Likes me how?" I ask. Now I'm turning into the nosey one. It shouldn't even matter, I'm almost cutting him off in a sense soon.

"I don't know. I guess it's for you to figure out." Shawn says as he pulls into the driveway. I see Corey's car next to us, and I gulp.

I let out a deep breath, removing myself from the car.

—

I walk in slowly, Shawn obviously beating me inside.

I'm way more than nervous right now.

I shouldn't even be this worked up about it, but I feel so resistant to the idea of actually doing it. I know I should, and have to (well, by my own rules). I know my father would be disappointed in me if I were to pursue Corey.

Fuck, like I even could. It's purely sex.

I glance at Corey as I go over to my drum kit. He gives me a small smile and I feel even worse. I don't want to hurt him.

—

When practice is over, the nauseous feeling returns; it's been hours, nearly 7 pm. Everyone is talking so fucking loud and I wish I could drown out their voices.

I know I have to do it, and now. I can't keep putting this off. It's the thing that's best for me, and him. I hope.

I slowly approach Corey, who's in the middle of a conversation with Mick.

I lightly tap him on the shoulder, wincing when he turns around to face me. I notice the way his wavy hair bounces and how he meets me with a smile. Why does he have to be so perfect?

"Yes?" He asks. I'm lost in his ocean blue eyes, and I start to dissociate. I almost forget what I came over here to do.

"Hello?" Corey asks again, snapping me out of the weirdly confused state I was in.

"Oh shit, sorry," I cough, still on edge, "Uh..can we talk?"

"Sure." He turns back to Mick for a dismissal. Mick seems to just shrug him off (what if he knows?) and I look down at Corey's hand, taking it in mine. I notice his eyes flicker when I grab it.

I stop walking when we're in front of the storage closet, a ways away from the garage door. I really don't want them to hear this.

"So...what's up?" Corey asks, looking down at me. I open my mouth to speak—I don't even have a speech prepared.

"I uh...um.." I struggle to find the words. Corey looks confused as hell, but there's something in his eyes that tells me he already has an idea of what I'm going to say.

"I.. I don't think we should, you know, do this thing anymore. I uh, it's not right for us to be..like, you know, involved with eachother in the way that we are, or, yeah." I start, pressing my hand to my forehead, and I notice Corey sink a little.

"Oh,"

"I mean, it's just wrong. It's already interfering with our musical lives, I'm always late and I can barely focus on drumming. And you shouldn't like, be dating your bandmate. Not that we're dating but- you know. And um, things can go wrong. I don't want them getting mad at us- me, because I can't focus. I don't know. I'm just confused. But I just think it's best for us to- not do this. Also like, me and Sabrina might get back together so—"

I take a breath. Corey looks irritated.

"Wait, wait, wait, Sabrina?" He asks, looking definitely pissed. Now I'm scared. I might have said too much. Too much of what I'm feeling. Too much that he can't handle, especially with his temper. Fuck.

"I..yeah. She came by earlier and we talked things out. It's not definite, more-so up in the air right now.." I regret saying anything as the words come out of my mouth. Shut up, Joey, just shut up.

"Do you even realize how much of a piece of shit she is, Joey? You know how badly she hurt you, and you came crawling to me about it. You know, it's obvious I was just a shoulder to cry on to you," He scoffs, looking around.

I say nothing.

"I..I can't believe you. If you're ending it now, let it stay that way. I'm tired of you and your indecisiveness,"

"I-"

"Don't."

Corey looks hurt. I feel horrible.

"I'm sorry." Is all I can mutter. I should've seen this coming.

"Sorry doesn't fix it, Joey. I thought you were my friend. I let you in and you just used me as numbing for your pain-" Corey raises his voice and I back into the wall trying to get away from him. I whimper a little. This feels too familiar.

Corey gives me a death glare, and then abruptly makes his way to the front door. He swings it open, slamming it shut.

"Wait!" I try to yell, but he's already gone.

By now, a few of them have started to come out of the garage, looking at me like I'm insane.

"What just fucking happened?!" Jim asks.

"I..I don't know.." I mumble.

I avoid looking at all of them.

"Something bad,"

"God, Joey. Get your ass out there and go find him before he kills himself over whatever you said,"

"Where would he be?"

"I don't know, a bar, maybe, sometimes he just goes to the park and kicks benches until they break," Mick says. Well everyone is just chiming in now, huh?

"The park is closer, I'll check there first. But what about bars? There's like 70 in the area," I (mostly) exaggerate.

"Probably the 300, he goes there the most, I mean, we all do,"

Well, shit.

"Should I drive?" I know I'm wasting time, but I need any info I can receive.

"Probably not, I mean Corey doesn't drive often, well not anymore..he got in a crash awhile back driving drunk and he broke his arm and got a bad concussion, so he promised us he wouldn't do that again. Also, he likes to walk in the road..so I wouldn't drive, especially since it's dark," Mick looks annoyed.

"Okay, I'll be back soon," I say, rushing over to the coat rack, grabbing my plain black jacket and pulling it over my shirt. I wave, and slip outside through the front door. Here we fucking go.

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