The meaning behind what we see

Migraine

"4:15pm- Our rooftop" -Sent 10 minutes ago

Josh looked at his watch, it was 4:10pm. 5 minutes. He had 5 minutes. 

And so the chase began. Running so fast he could hardly believe this was him. Tyler, his Tyler. He can't. No he won't, Josh won't let him. Fearing the worst tears begin to cascade down his face, he knew he was bad, he knew, why didn't he try to help. He's going to loose him and he'll have no one to blame but himself. His legs started to burn, but he couldn't stop, he knew that. It didn't matter what was in his way. 

Seconds seemed like hours but even less at the same time. He could hardly breathe. Everything was aching, but this pain would be worth it if he could save him, his Tyler. 4:12pm. It's only been two minutes. It felt like 2 years, thoughts crying out to him, Josh crying back. Don't let him do this.

Another minute passed and Josh saw it, the building. He had 3 minutes to run up the endless flight of stairs to get to Tyler. So he ran for it, inhale, exhale. For Tyler, for him, it has to be for him. No one else can help him they need each other, seconds dragged on like hours, the staircase seemed to either be on repeat or never ending. That was, until he finally saw that door, the door that lead to saving him. 

04:14pm he had 15 seconds. He ran, faster than anyone thought was possible. And barged the door open with all of his heart. "TYLER!" screamed the lost soul.

But when he opened his eyes, things weren't quite as they seemed. 

There stood Tyler, his arms wide out, eyes closed. In front of him stood a microphone. Next to him? Drums. "I can't do this without you, Josh." Tyler began "I can fight away these thoughts, but I need someone with me. And you just happen to be the drummer of this two person band, so give me the weapons and I'll kill the evil out of our minds" 

The scene was not one any of us had imagined. It was beginning to become dark, the sun setting over the building edge. It was cold, as cold as death touching your small frame then throwing you back out. But Tyler was the warmth that he needed. The fight to stay alive, even if he had to kill his mind. He could make it. They could make it.

The high hat was the beat, the pulse to keep them alive, the bass drum the motive. Not always there but it still hits just as hard. The crash and ride cymbal the bad thoughts, crashing in to disappear. The snare drum: the memories staying through out the beat but slowly fading away. The tom-toms the second heart beat, to say you're not alone.   

The voice, what makes life seem better, the light behind the dark. Finally taking the migraine away from your head.