"Josh, if you were to live on a desert island, what three things would you bring?"
"Huh, a desert island. Where would it be?"
"Whadd'ya mean where would it be, it's a desert island, how many of those are there?"
"I don't know, like Florida or the Bahamas, or the Caribbean-"
"Yeah, the Caribbean. A desert island in the Caribbean."
"Huh, okay well, I guess i'd bring drumsticks, my drum kit, and and endless supply of coffee."
"Food doesn't count. You can't bring food."
'Why can't I bring food? And is coffee really a food?"
"It's just the rules, J. No food in 'What Three Things'. Now if it was a 'What Three Food Items'..."
"Okay, okay, what would you bring."
"Easy. Nintendo gamecube, notepad, sunglasses."
"Why the notepad?"
"In cases I need paper, or to chew on something, or to trade for food with a local, or write a song. The possibilities are endless."
"That's good. Actually, that's good. Wait, I never got to say my third one because you said food was out."
"Okay go."
"Third thing: sunblock. So I can play my drums all day in the sun without getting burnt or too tan."
"You can never be too tan, man."
--------------------------
I need a haircut. My hair is far too long. It keeps shaking in my eyes and blocking my vision from my drums.
It's driving Tyler crazy, I can tell. He keeps looking over at me when I mess up a part because I'm whipping the hair out of my face. He paces a little bit, and I can tell he is anxious. He licks his lips a lot and tugs at his clothes.
"Hey, man, relax," I say, right before Tyler goes in to interview with Mark.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I have such a weird feeling about tonight's show and I can't shake it off," he says, biting his lip and rubbing his face into his hands.
That sends a chill down my spine, and immediately my heart starts to race.
Last show
"Why? Is something the matter?" I ask, a little too quickly.
He shakes his head. "No, it's probably nothing. I guess I'm just nervous since it's our last show."
I smile weakly, and tap my fingers against my shorts quickly.
"Comb your hair tonight, willya?" he says with a grin. I smile back, and run my fingers through my pink hair.
As soon as he's in the other room, I bolt for the bathroom.
The mirror is clear, and I tremble as I stare myself in the face.
"You won't take me. Not again. I am strong"
I'm stronger, the reflection whispers, and I can see my eyes turn milky white. The shadows behind me take form of so many terrible things, and I want to scream.
"Leave me alone!" I say, pouncing towards the mirror, "Leave Tyler alone!"
Last show, it screams, take the gun, take the car.
I sob, shaking and crying as I crumple to the floor. I look back at the mirror. My reflection shows a shaking, terrified 28 year old who just dreamed up a monster.
I just want it to stop. I feel insane, I feel caged in.
everything is crumbling.
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.