So drunk. Wasted.Tyler, my bud, helps me. My bud.
Good man, good boy. Good singer, too. I remember the first time he sang to me, or for me. It was a song on the radio, and we were with a bunch of our friends.
He sounded amazing, and he wasn't even trying.
I wonder is he sings in the car with Jenna.
Falling into bed...
---------------------------------------------------
He thinks I'm asleep, but I'm not. I can hear him screaming into his pillow. I can hear him sobbing and clutching at the pillow like it's going to save him.
The drinks have worn off, and now I lay in bed listening.
Sometimes, I wonder if he is like this around Jenna. I wonder if it scares her like it terrifies me.
I feel heartbroken for him, but there is nothing I can do. Tyler has his own demons that haunt him, and I can't fight them for him.
Tyler falls asleep eventually, and the crying stops. The horrible, lonely crying.
I sit up, my head pounding. I have this trembling feeling that's crawling up my spine, whispering in my ear. I can hear words, telling me what to do.
take a gun, they say, it'll be over quick.
I shoot up and run into the bathroom, heaving as soon as I hit the toilet. I try not to sob as I puke my guts out, and when I finish, I stand up and face myself in the mirror.
"I am not going to let you win," I say, glaring at myself in the mirror.
My reflection winks at me, and points to my hand. Shakily, I look down.
I'm holding a handgun, and my fingers are locked on the trigger,
I moan and the gun clatters to the ground. My reflection laughs as I collapse onto the floor.
Last show, it hisses.
last show.
------------------------------------------
It's Michael's obnoxious shouts that wake me up from my dream. I jolt awake and try not to look freaked out. My heart is racing from my nightmare, but I try and look nonchalant. That's my job. Keep Tyler sane.
Even if it means I'm not.
Michael reminds us that it's our last show. At those words, a chill goes up my spine. I freeze, and swallow hard, pretending to adjust my pillow. Tyler bites his lip at this and nods slowly, staring at the ground and concentrating.
I know this is gonna be a hard day for him. This tour means everything to Ty. It's his way of getting everything out. I know he hates being in cold Ohio, all alone. But I couldn't take it. I couldn't take the small town claustrophobia for a single moment more. So I moved to LA, where the sun was always out.
I join Tyler in the bathroom as we brush our teeth. I study his face, looking for a sign that he heard me, or if my dream was real. I do a quick scan of the bathroom, but there is no gun.
Obviously.
I ask if we can get pizza for breakfast. Tyler says yes.
Obviously.
YOU ARE READING
The Moon and the Gun
Fanfiction*sequel to 'Death Of The Enemy'* Josh is terrified of what he is becoming, and the only way he can defeat his Blurryface is to do what he is scared of the most.