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(Josh's POV)
It was probably about 4:00 in the morning when I woke up from a dead sleep. I didn't have a nightmare, I didn't have anything bad going on in my life. I mean, how could I? My life is as perfect as it could be right now. Or did I. I don't know. But for some odd reason, I woke up.
I sat up and laid against the headboard of the bed. We had a small break in between shows, so we decided to stay at a hotel for a couple of days. Our crew had flown out to the arena we were playing at next, and me an Tyler stayed back and would fly down the day of the next show.
I ran my fingers through my hair before rubbing my face and my eyes. My eyes burned. My head was damp because I had been sweating. I didn't have a nightmare.
I didn't have a nightmare.
I look to my left and Tyler is fast asleep, clutching a pillow tightly to his chest, his soft snores filling the room.
I stare at him for a few, taking in the beauty of him. He's so precious. His features are so perfect, perfectly flawless. The way his lips pucker when he sleeps, the way his cheeks round out against the pillow. The way he curls up against me, seeking warmth from my presence.
Time and time again, Tyler has told me how much he loves me. How important I am to him. What I mean and what I am to him.
I am everything to him.
I keep him whole.
I keep him sane, to say it bluntly.
He is my light, he is my savior, he is everything I had ever needed.
I take my eyes off of him to look over at the nightstand and grab my phone. I unlock it and go to my photos. I go back to about a year and a half ago. It was a picture me and Ty. My hair was still pink and I was doing some goofy face. Ty had this empty looking expression on his face, but at the same time, he had a look of home. He was home with me. And I was home with him.
I never once in my life doubted my abilities to make someone happy. Although, I sometimes did doubt whether what I did was as good as it could of been or be. I knew I always made Tyler happy. I know I still do today. I just sometimes wonder, Is it ever enough?
I stare at the picture more, taking in its full potential. He is beautiful even when he stares into space. I've noticed he has done that during a few interviews we have been in. He just stares into nothing. I usually put my hand on his knee or his shoulder when I speak so he knows I'm doing okay.
He has helped me with my anxiety. I used to be not even be able to speak a single word to reporters because I got so nervous. I don't know what I would do if we ever won a Billboard award or a Grammy. If we even received one.
I flipped through more pictures. Some being old, some being new. They were all important, all being a memory in our lives that I will forever remember as long as I live.
I put my phone down and throw my legs over the side of the bed. I put my head down and put my hands on my face.
I don't know what's wrong.
I stand up and walk over to the window. I look out to the view over the highway. Cars pass by, the red lights trailing behind them as bright yellow headlights pass them.
I wonder where they are going. I wonder what they are doing.
I turn around and walk to the bathroom. I fill the sink up with cold water and splash it on my face, trying to shake this feeling of uncertainty. I rub my eyes, waking myself up a bit more, only to realize once again how red and tired my eyes look.
I sit down on the edge of the tub and looked forward to stare at myself in the mirror.
I can't help but think if there is anything I could do.
I don't know what is wrong still, I have no idea what I could do to shake this feeling.
I haven't had this feeling since one of our first shows.
I put my hands on my knees and start tapping my fingers and feel sweat start to build on my forehead. This isn't good.
Something isn't right. Something isn't right.
I get up and turn the light off, I can't keep looking at myself. I lean back against the counter again, and I can faintly see myself in the mirror. Except, it isn't me.
The figure's face is black and white, with red blotches on his face. He has no eyes, they're fully black. The figure turns his head sideways, his arm reaching out as if to reach for me. I step back, and so does the figure in the mirror. I tilt my head, he does the same. I walk forward, so does he.
I start to panic. I have no idea who this is. I have no idea what I am seeing. But I am scared. I am terrified.
I turn around quick to turn the light back on, seeing that there is nobody else in the bathroom except for me. I sit down the floor and cross my legs, before resting my arms on my knees with my head in my hands.
And I cry. I just cry. I haven't cried in ages.
I try to keep quiet, not wanting my sobs to wake Tyler. Because if I wake Tyler, he will worry. And I don't want him to worry.
I start to hear a low pitched noise in my ear, almost like a heavy bass. A bass like a drum. My drums.
I close my eyes tightly and cover my ears, hoping the noise would subside. But all I see when I close my eyes is red blotched. The noise gets louder, and to my surprise, begins to speak. It says three words, before disappearing again.
"I am back."
I begin to feel shaking. I look up and it's Tyler. He's on his knees next to me, a worried look spread across his face as well as a couple of tears.'
"Joshie, what's wrong? Tell me what's happening. What did you see?."
I wipe the tears from my eyes before reaching over to hug Tyler. I sob into his shoulder, gripping onto his shoulder trying to gather the courage to speak up. Because this isn't a new thing, this is a reoccurring problem.
"Blurryface, Ty. I have one too, and he's back." I speak into his shoulder, my lips brushing his skin with every word I say.
Tyler holds me tighter, understanding the exact feeling I speak about.
"He goes away Joshie, he goes away. Remember that," I nod back, leaning back to look at him, "He will always be alive, but he won't always be around. I remember the first show when you had a panic attack. That's what you just had Joshie. I know you're nervous again, tomorrow being the biggest and last show for the tour. I get that. But you cant't let him get to you Baby. He will leave again, I promise. But I can't promise if he will be gone forever. I promise you, I'll be here whenever he comes back again. He will not take you. I will be by your side, okay?"
I nod and give him a smile, leaning forward to kiss him. I taste tears on his lips, the salty taste covering my lips. He smiles at me an wipes a tear from my eye with his thumb.
He stands up an takes my hand, bringing me back to our bed. We lay back down, and he pulls me against him.
For once, in a very long time, Tyler is the one holding me. I am always the one holding him, always trying to protect him and keep him safe. But this time, it's my turn. He is taking care of me. He is protecting me. He is keeping me safe like I keep him safe.
He runs his fingers through my hair, rubbing down my back and up to my neck.
