Milk and Honey

Tyler is dead.

That's what the rumors say, anyways. He's always been quiet, always kept to himself. He's never been one to have weird rumors flying about, which is why Josh believes it straight away. Who would lie about Tyler being dead when Tyler is no one?

There's no one to ask, either. His siblings haven't been to school which fuels the rumor.

Brendon told him the news and Josh felt nothing but regret, always having thought the boy to be so, so pretty with dark skin and weary brown eyes. He always told himself he'd talk to the boy. Every day. But he never did. He feels regret.

They're in a small town. Josh has known Tyler his whole life, same with Brendon. And Dallon. And everyone else who's friends with him. This small town is a trap, no one leaves. It's a trap. A trap! He wants to scream at anyone that's new. But he never has.

He wanted to tell Tyler the same thing, it's a trap, to stop being so sad it's not your fault you were born in a trap.

But Tyler is dead.

Tyler is dead.

...........................

Tyler Joseph isn't dead. He returns to school a week later after the rumor started, two weeks completely gone from school. But he's back. All of his siblings come back with him too, surrounding him in a Joseph family wall, no one gets to come in.

Josh notices his eyes, the tired brown eyes look wrecked. The bags under his eyes are so dark, so puffy and his eyes--his eyes. He won't meet anyone's stare.

He keeps his arms as close and tight to his body as he can, making himself small, as if he's taking up too much room in his long gray shirt and black chinos and josh can relate. He can relate.

But Tyler isn't dead and he wants to walk up to the pretty boy with sad eyes and ask him out for ice cream or something, see those sad eyes light up just for him. He wants--he wants....

Tyler walks right past him, never looks up or anything and Josh sighs. No one gets to come in. No one.

.............................

Tyler doesn't speak that week. Josh notices that. He's silent throughout the whole first day and Josh brushes it off with being tired, but he can't be tired five straight days. But the dude looks tired. His eyes are always bloodshot and the bags under them get worse with each passing day.

But the not-speaking thing is Tyler's thing, it always has been. The pushing people away is Tyler's thing. He's always sat in the corner and wrote and doodled away in the his little journal or slept until the bell rang, hiding under a hood.

But he always spoke when spoken too, in hushed, cautious tones, scared of his own voice. Josh likes his voice. Likes the higher register it stays in. He likes the words Tyler uses, likes what Tyler has always had to say.

But this is new.

They're on Greek gods and goddesses. They're talking about everyone's favorites and about the party they're wanting to throw, Ancient Greece themed. Everyone's excited. Everyone's happy.

"Tyler, which one is your favorite?" Some girl across from him asks. She's sweet. She's trying to help. She's trying.

Tyler doesn't look up from where he's staring into the wood of his desk. Doesn't even seem to know he was spoken to. So she tries again. And again, until she stands up and that's when Josh notices him stiffen up. Josh opens his mouth to say something but it's too late, she gently lays her hand on a gray clothed shoulder and Tyler's whole body goes rigid.