Wrong Number

We Stitch These Wounds

Song: We Stitch These Wounds

Artist: Black Veil Brides

^^^

Despite doing a great job the other day, I needed to continue practicing my lines. A few of us in different scenes planned to run lines during our break period in the practice rooms. I hoped I'd run into Tylor again. I wanted to hear him play the piano again, maybe even sing. It was hard to clearly make out his voice through the door, but based on his dedication and from what I could hear through the door, he had talent.

I wished I could sing like him. If I could, it would guarantee me the role of Judd in the musical. But I wasn't the best, so I had to work my add off to impress the directors during my audition.

Hearing a loud crash near the practice rooms, I turned the corner and saw Tylor pressed against the lockers by two punks. His face winced in pain. "You smug-"

"Hey!" I snapped, and the three of them jerked their heads towards me. Running up to the punks, I shoved them away from Tylor and growled, "Leave him alone!"

"Fuck off, Damon."

"Did I fucking stutter?" I snarled.

The two glared at me, over at Tylor, and back to me before they scoffed and walked away.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Tylor, who remained pressed against the locker. He flashed a tight smile at me. "Thanks," he said, his voice strained.

"Are you okay?" I asked, gently pulling him away from the locker. His lower back came into direct contact with the lock, and I winced.

"Nope," he cheekily responded, reaching to rub the spot.

"Can I see?"

Quirking an eyebrow, he shrugged before turning back and lifting his shirt. He stretched his neck to check the blue bruise forming.

"God, you should go to the nurse to check it out."

"I'll be fine. It's cool."

The bruise looked really bad, as if he were bleeding under his skin. It would have been safer for him to get it checked out in case something was wrong internally.

"But what if it's not safe to play the guitar? Or even piano?"

Tylor lowered his shirt and sighed. "Fine. I'll get it checked out."

As Tylor reached down to grab his backpack thrown to the other side of the hall, he groaned loudly. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I grabbed his backpack for him and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he exhaled, finally smiling a genuine smile at me.

"Of course."

As he walked to the nurse's office, I followed him. He snickered. "Are you that worried about me?"

"I want to make sure you're okay," I defended. "I also want to make sure those fuckers don't come back with you being alone."

Tylor smirked. "Well, aren't you a sweetheart?" As I turned my head away, he laughed at me. "I'm surprised you remembered I play guitar."

"Yeah, I mean, you said you were the lead singer and guitarist in a metal band. That's not something you easily forget."

"You'd be surprised."

"Clearly, they don't realize how fucking cool that is."

"You like metal music?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "I... don't know. I know a couple of songs, but I don't really prefer one genre over the other. If a song has a good beat and their voice isn't crap, I'll listen to it."