Mr. Misty-Eyed | Josh Dun

reality | twenty-eight

"I'll stay awake,
'Cause the dark's not taking prisoners tonight."

. . . . .

The house felt chilly as I wandered aimlessly around. It wasn't even fully light out as I turned my gaze to look out the kitchen window. The blue hazy light that just barely peaked out behind the horizon sent my mind whirling back to my dream.

I had woken up in a cold sweat, my heart feeling as though it would rip itself out of my chest at any moment. Since then I had found myself pacing the first floor of my home, trying to calm my nerves. I knew it was because of the show that we would be playing later tonight and I didn't want to think about the possibility of failing again.

My body slumped back against the counter as I imagined the first and last time I had played in front of people. It was horrible and embarrassing that I couldn't hold on to my nerves for a half hour set. I knew it was all in my head and if I just pushed myself a little harder and didn't buckle under the pressure I would be fine.

I turned back toward the counter and glanced at the coffee maker as it prepared my favorite addiction before I looked back down at the notebook opened next me. I licked my lips as I picked up the pen that lay beside it and continued to write down the dream from the night before.

The coffee maker beeped and I quickly poured myself the first of many cups I'd be drinking today. And for the rest of the early morning hours I tried to prepare myself for what was to come later that night.

Tyler got up surprisingly early that morning as well. His eyes were wide and I could see the anticipation in them as he made his way into the kitchen.

"You look like crap," He stated as he prepared himself some tea and stared at me from my spot at the kitchen table.

I rolled my eyes and closed my dream journal. "I really appreciate the vote of confidence."

Tyler's eyebrows rose briefly as he smiled over at me. I knew he was only playing around to lighten to tense mood he had just walked into. But I'm sure nonetheless, I did actually look like crap.

"How are you feeling about tonight?" The mug he held muffled his voice as he brought it back up to his lips.

"Not too sure." I scrunched my nose in annoyance. It was true though. I wasn't exactly scared, but I wasn't really excited either. It was just something that needed to be done.

"We'll be fine." Tyler nodded once in conformation before he turned and left the room.

I sighed heavily and ran a hand through my messy hair, leaning my elbows against the wood surface in front of me. Tyler was right, he had to be. The show was going to fine and so was I.

. . . . .

A low whine bubbled up through my throat as I searched through my closet once again. Clothes and shoes had been strewn across the floor of my room as I hastily looked for something in particular.

"What are you doing?" Tyler's voice made me jump for what felt like the hundredth time today and I quickly stood and turned to face him.

"I-I was looking for that mask from the last sho-" My voice halted as my best friend pulled the blue ski mask from behind his back.