Might this be true? *A Brallon fanfic*

CHAPTER 8

Brendon's POV

In about an hour, our first show of tour was starting. We had been sound checking for a while and afterwards, we met some fans. Not really like meeting them, but we gave them a signed poster and let them take a picture if they wanted to.

Sadly, most fans wanted a picture with me, not necessarily the whole band and not at all one of the other members without me. 
Usually I'd feel flattered because of this, but today it bothered me: I had promised myself to keep on eye on Dallon, make sure he looks a little happy. I know he hates these moments; he barely gets to pose for a picture and his self-esteem is low enough already.

Right now, we were all in our dressing room to get in our suits. Kenneth, Dan and I were casually changing in the same room, because we're all adult men and because we never actually get naked to change.

Dallon went to the bathroom to change. He has always done this and last tour (a.k.a. the first tour with the four of us) the boys always joked Dal was probably gay and couldn't stand seeing our beautiful bodies, but now I know why he did it: his cuts. I still feel a cold breeze throughout my whole body every time I think of the scars I saw that night. 
I never really managed to talk to him about it again, nor I have been able to check him on cutting more.

Dallon's POV

I was supposed to get dressed, but I just stood in front of the mirror in my boxers, half buttoned shirt and undone tie. I had never been so nervous and anxious before.

You could say I was used to this, I had always felt bad on stage, threatening thoughts coming up in my head, but today it was way worse. Why exactly I don't know for sure.

Somehow I think it's because of this new thing Brendon wants to do: I think it'll be funny, but I'm also afraid of being way too awkward or getting lost in the moment because well, Brendon is pretty handsome as fuck.

I think I like Brendon a little more than I should, but what would you expect? I'm gay and Brendon is an adorable human being.

He's probably not into me, though. Why would anyone be into... this?

I tried to choke back my tears, knowing fully well it'd be too visible for the others if I cried now; I only had ten minutes left. But I somehow had to cope with my mental pain.

Brendon's POV

We only had 8 minutes left before our show started and Dallon hadn't returned from the bathroom yet. I decided to look if he was alright. 
I knocked the door. "Dallon? I know you're still in there.. Are you okay?" I asked. "Uhm, yeah-ye- I'll be right out." He said in a small voice. I could here him sobbing.

"Dallon, I'm coming in: I want you to feel good before we start this show." I said, opening the door.

I immediately pulled him into a tight hug. He laid his head on my shoulder and started sobbing loudly. "It's okay, Dal. You can cry. Let it all out."

After a minute he let go of me and whispered: "We'll have to go play in a few."

He pulled his sleeves down. Oh, how I hope he didn't cut. I really need to talk to him after this show.

"If you feel bad, give me a sign and I'll come and sing closer to you." I said comforting. "And, you're okay with our stage-gay thing, huh?" He nodded and we walked to the others.

We've been playing for about 20 minutes now and the crowd is growing wild. I love this feeling.

I take a sip from my water bottle checking the setlist. Ooh, this song's perfect for some Frerard shit!

I breathe in and out slowly as Dallon starts playing the intro to Girls/Girls/Boys, will he like this? Argh, fuck it; I think as I walk over to his microphone instead of mine. I slip in front of him, standing really close to him as I sing the first verse in his microphone. We're getting to the chorus and I take the mic off of the stand and put it in-between our faces so he can sing the 'sophisticated, manipulative' part. He slightly pulls my hair which almost makes me want to scream. Shit. The fans are going wild, but I never thought this'd be so much fun.

We're getting to the end of the song and I kiss him on the cheek before going back to my own microphone.

Dallon's POV

I was totally fucking this up. I knew I shouldn't have stayed in this band, because all I do is ruin their shows.

We were finally at our last song 'IWSNT'. After this one I could just get out of here and on to the tour bus.

After playing the first verse and chorus, or making an attempt to play it, because I was so caught up in thoughts, Brendon ran to me shoving a microphone between our faces. We were only inches apart. I sang with him, catching my breath every once in a while, because shit this was hot.

Suddenly, we were at the last thirty seconds of the song; Brendon basically screaming the lyrics.
I played the outro - Bren's nose still touching mine somehow and just as I was going to stop Brendon gave me this huge, playish grin and kissed me. It was real quick, though and definitely a flinch to get the crowd wild for the last time, but I couldn't handle it.

I put my bass down and ran off stage; the show was over anyway.

I ran straight to the bathroom. I didn't even bother getting in a stall because 1: nobody ever gets in here: it's gross; 2: I was starting to have a panic attack and therefore was not thinking straight.

I was already sweating heavily and when splashing water into my face did not help me cool down, I started hyperventilating. I sat down against the floor and threw my blazer on the floor.
Neither that helped me so I untied my tie and just sat there, well, lied there shaking actually.

The only thing I could think of was the blade in my pocket, since there was nobody to help me and Brendon didn't know about my panic attacks, so I couldn't ask him.

I rolled up the sleeve of my white button-up and started leaving fresh cuts all over it. The pain soon brought me back to reality and I was now only sobbing loudly.

I was washing the blood of my wrists when I heard Bren yelling. Shit, I left the door open, he's going to find me and see me crying and.. I quickly pulled my sleeves down begging the bleeding had stopped when Brendon ran into the bathroom.

"Oh my God, Dal, are you alright?!" He screamed. "Yeah, I'm, I'm good.."  "That's not what it looks like, you're crying your eyes out and you look horrid. Your tie is well, not really like a tie should be and your blazer is on the floor." Dallon just sat down on the floor. "You were having a panic attack, weren't you?" He asked. I nodded: "I'm so sorry, Bren."

"No, Dallon, don't be. You know I have these too. Was it the kiss? I'm sorry, I thought it was fun." he hugged me, but I winced in pain and crawled against the wall.

That's when his mouth dropped to an 'O'.

Brendon's POV

His white sleeves were now turning red and I realized what he had done.

"Dal, I'm so sorry." I say, pulling him in for a hug, making sure I didn't touch his arms to avoid any pain.

He just started crying louder and whispered: "It's not because of that, it's because I'm a fuck-up."

Why does he feel like this? He's talented, sweet and gorgeous. Okay, I really need to stop saying he's hot. I'm bi and all, but this is not the moment for that kind of shit.

I sigh: "You're not a failure, you played an amazing show tonight, but you don't seem to see that and I'm sorry I haven't helped you more before, but I will. Trust me when I say that we're gonna make this stop, together."

He smiles at me. "Thanks, Bren. I don't know why you do this for me, but thank you."

I smile back: "You deserve to feel good and I am your friend, that's why. Now get your shirt off, put on mine, throw your blazer over it and hide your blood-stained shirt. I'll walk to the bus shirtless.

"Are you sure? It's kinda cold and how am I gonna fit your shirt?" He asks.

I laugh. "You know I hate shirts, so I don't mind. Plus, my shirt is oversized, so it'll fit you. Now take my hand and run before the guys get worried."