ballerina // jøshler

dix-huit ;

As soon as he opened the next morning, Joshua knew what he had to do. Tyler was seated in the kitchen, with a cup of coffee clutched in his hands, humming a soft melody.

"We're getting your things," the pink haired man said, catching the brunette off guard.

"Well good morning to you too." the boy laughed, his fingers twitching against the porcelain.

"You're moving in with me."

;

The frivolous energy cycling through Tyler's body was contagious. He sat next to Joshua, leg bouncing.

"Excited?" the pink haired man concluded as he stole a glance at the brunette beside him.

"Yeah...and nervous. I don't know." his leg would not stop bouncing. Joshua watched on, not being able to ignore his own nerves. There was a gnawing feeling at the back of his mind, warning him. But he knew he needed to be there for Tyler, and in a strange way, the fragile brunette made him stronger just by simply being. They worked as a team, the mystery of how it worked so well in their favor was still unsolved to both parties.

Pulling up to the familiar complex, a heavy sigh escaped from Tyler. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, Ty." the pink haired man squeezed the other's knee reassuringly. "We can come back another time."

"...No, I need to do this. I don't know how because it's going to be hard. But I've got to. Jenna was always so strong and willing to do things her way. I need to be like that from here on out. My way or the highway, but only when it really counts." he added quickly, trying not to sound too conceited. Joshua smiled at the confidence inside Tyler that was trying to break through the surface.

"If you need help with paying the rent or anything, let me know. Pack what whatever you want."

"You shouldn't have given me that option." the brunette grinned, hinting at his one-track mind when it came to personal possessions. Everything had a meaning or a sweet little memory within it, making the art of leaving things behind a real struggle for him. Once inside, all the objects on the shelves seemed to be screaming at him, begging to be dusted off and sat on a shelf in a new home where they could start fresh. The rooms were stuffy and not neat (not necessarily messy, but things just hadn't been put back in their place the way they usually would be). It was unloved, it seemed; Tyler deeply believed for a home to truly flourish, it needed to look lived in, and the apartment hadn't had a companion in what seemed like forever.

The once bright yellow walls looked dimmer than the days spent on the withering couch, dismal thoughts stimulating his senses, white noise deafening him into silence. The floors were unusually clean and echoless; each step the brunette took seemed muted as if he were a ghost. Somehow, he managed to make it into his own room. Tyler's hands found their way to the lavender blanket strewn about on his comforter. It was such a foreign feeling, the brunette's hands almost shot away. But his mind caught up with his hands and reminded him what that blanket represented: Jenna, your best friend remember? This was hers before she left to pursue her dream as a journalist. She's making history over there. You should be proud. And he sure as hell was.

Tyler admired the way his friend had never sugarcoated the truth. When he was having a bad day, Jenna was always there to tell him the truth straight forward, even if it meant that he'd hate her for a while. He aspired to be half as confident as Jenna one day.

The brunette wrapped himself in the blanket like he had after his friend left. It still smelled like her, making the boy oscitant.

"You need any help in here?" Joshua walked in, catching the brunette off guard.