Glowing Eyes - Joshler

L - 2

Music was blasting from the stereo. It sounded like a song from blink-182's self titled album, but I could be completely wrong. It was definitely blink though. The drum beat was really heavy, and the only explenation was that the other person that wasn't Pete, Mikey or Gerard was playing drums in Gerard's shitty little studio at the back of the house.

"Who's playing drums?" I was genuinly intruiged about it. It was probably Josh. I also had to actually talk to people so that I didn't look like a freak.

"Josh... Pete don't even start!" Patrick replied to me, but halfway through the sentance Pete started wiggling his fucking eyebrows. Ugh, pete is such a fuckboy, I don't know why Gerard hasn't beaten him up yet, to be honest.

"Wouldn't they be so cute together? Admit it, Mikes," Pete sounded like a thirteen year old girl that has an obsession with Phan and Jacksepticeye, and surprisingly, I was still his friend, mostly because he wasn't an asshole to people. Well, everyone except Bert but that's because Bert broke Gerard's heart and a bunch of shit went down.

"I don't even know his hair colour-" I was gonna proceed to say, 'how could I like him?' but Pete butt into my sentence.

"Dude, we don't know what his hair looks like! He changes it every five hours, I swear to sweet Jesus," Pete seemed to hate Josh's hair-dying habits, even though he had the same habits.

"Oh, just like you!" He gave me a death stare.

"I highlight my hair, not full-on fucking dye it!" Pete spoke passionately.

"He hates dying his entire head of hair because when he was thirteen - before we met you - his hair fell out of his head because he left the dye in for too long," Mikey said, playing with his nails. He was yawning quite a lot, and you could tell he just wanted to sleep.

"Mikey you fucking prick, why'd you tell him?" Pete fucking roared (or rawred) across the room. Mikey ran off after saying, 'gotta sonic'. Why are they still my friends?

They left me alone in the hallway, and I ended up heading towards the studio to find this mysterious drummer, a.k.a Josh.

Donna Way must be on a buisness trip, or something, 'cause there's no way that she allowed five teenagers - two of which being boyfriend and boyfriend - to stay awake until three in the morning to run around the garden and play drums.

Anyway, I was heading towards the studio. The sound of drums wad growing louder and louder, and I was fixated on it, but a certain emo fucking art student that just so happened to want my dick jumped infront of me like this shit was Pokémon.

"Hey, Tyler. Don't worry, I don't crush on you anymore," Oh my goodness, thank all things holy.

"Then God has surely answered my prayers, Gerard. What are you doing anyway?" I was actually curious. Gerard's a nice guy when he's not being a fuckboy.

"Nothing, just checking to see if Pete and Mikey aren't fucking in the garden. Ma's coming back tomorrow and she won't like seeing cum on the lawn," I snorted, "What are you doing anyway?"

I thought for a minute. Did it sound weird that I was going to basically jumpscare a guy that a don't know whilst they're playing drums. I don't think so, there's weirder shit.

"Finding out who's playing the drums,"

"You're desperate for a boyfriend, fucking whore,"

"Only meraphorically, Gerard!"

~

The Way house was actually pretty big.

I'd been here before, but I'd never really been upstairs. It felt foreign, to be honest.

I wasn't in the mood for snooping around in other people's rooms, so I just followed the drumming. It kinda baffled me how long he can play drums without being sore in his entire body. I know that I'd only been here for about twenty minutes, but I'm pretty sure he's been playing for a long time before I got here.

Finally, I arrived at the door of the aforementioned shitty studio. Gerard, Frank, Ray and Bob reherse here sometimes, but they need to get a bass player. They've been asking Mikey desperately.

I knocked really hard about five times because he was playing drums, and you could even hear it from outside the house.

I heard drum sticks falter on the drum kit, and all the noise fade away. Josh tripped over something, and whispered, 'oh, fuck,' a little too loudly. The door handle pushed down, and I stepped back, just so that I wasn't immedietly very face-to-face with him. The door flew back towards him, and he stubbed his toe, another curse flying from his mouth. The studio was lit weirdly, and rather than a white light, it was yellow. Yellow and gold shadows cast over his face and his hair.

He was wearing all black, and looked a little too happy to be wearing all black, to be honest. This must be Josh.

"Hey!" He was way to happy to be wearing all black.