In Tongues | Jojian

II

"Joji, you have got to get up." His roommate urged, throwing a paper towel roll at him.

"What's the fucking point?! Every day is living fucking hell, why the fuck should I get out of bed if existence is pain?" He yelled back.

Joji, if you can't tell, is not a morning person. He never has been. Anybody who thinks they can talk to him between five minutes to an hour after he's woken up would have better chances teaching bears ballet.

But because he's been slowly waking up later and going to bed later, this morning he's woken up at 2 in the afternoon.

"Alright, tone it down drama queen. As your roommate, best friend and manager, I officially order you to get your depressed ass out of bed and take a shower." She picked up another random object in his room, preparing to throw when Joji knocked it out of her hand with the paper towels.

"I get it! I'm getting out, you know I need at least a solid half hour to stand up."

"You don't have a half hour! You have to release an album soon. In Tongues did great, but that's not enough sales to live your whole life. At least, not unless you want to keep this nice ass apartment-"

"Alright, Alright. I'm getting my ass in the shower. Can you clean up for me?"

She looked absolutely mortified that he'd even think to ask. "I get that you have severe depression and all, but you can clean your own room."

He have her such a hopeless look that she couldn't say no. "You'd be so fucked without me, George."

He grinned, and started walking towards the door. "That's why you're the best, Meg! Love you!"

"Yeah, right. I get paid for this."

"I know you love me too." He winked at her before shutting the door, laughing for the first time in days.

When he stepped into the bathroom, he saw how much of a mess he was. He was a few days away from having an actual beard, and his overgrown hair was an inch away from making him look like the Japanese Jesus.

It's been a solid week since he last showered, and fuck, he's definitely forgotten to take his meds. "Hey Meg? Have I remembered my drugs?" Joji had to shout to make his voice heard, and his throat was slightly raspy.

He heard a long groan, and couldn't help but smile. "Don't call them your drugs, asshole, it's medicine."

He'd be dead without Megan. He was friends with her in college, and found out that her job as a manager for some band ended abruptly when they broke up. They had a conversation over lunch when he bumped into her on the street one day, about a week after breaking up with Ian— even just thinking that name brings pains to his chest— and he'd explained everything to her.

He talked about how he lost the best thing in his life, how he felt hopeless, how he wanted to overdose, how the drugs have gotten out of control, how he hasn't been able to get off his ass to produce music or make videos.

Apparently she had just gotten a bachelors in psychology, as well as her experience dealing with difficult musicians. So they somehow came to an agreement: she'd get 30% of his net earnings, and in return, she'd keep his shit together.

She did everything. They lived in a two bedroom apartment together, and she kept him safe and productive. She made sure he woke up, ate at least once a day, went outside, wrote and recorded music, talked to friends, went to event and kept to plans, and most importantly, she kept him off drugs.

She was in the middle of finding him a new therapist. Somehow, she had an insane amount of connections. Meg promised that she'd find the perfect therapist for him, even if it took forever.

He looked down at the shampoo in his palm, then felt his hair. Had he already washed it? How long has he been in the shower? Had he washed it two times already? Three?

It's too hot, he noticed. He can't breathe. He hastily lowered the heat, and felt the water chill his bones. But it was refreshing. Then he noticed that there was knocking on the door.

"Joji! I swear to fucking god if you don't open this door, or at least answer me..."

She sounded distant, but he didn't realize that he was responding until he heard his own voice speaking. "Sorry Meg, I was just..." His voice sounds strange. Are you allowed to smoke in the shower? Maybe he should ask Megan, she'd know. "Meg, are you able to smoke in a shower?"

"George, what the fuck. The water will put out the cigarette- wait, why do you even need to smoke in the shower!"

"I can't remember if I washed my hair."

"Why does that mean you have to smoke?"

He was silent for a long time. "I have no idea. Should I wash my hair again to be safe?"

She didn't say anything else. Or maybe she did and he didn't hear it. It's hard to tell at this point. He decided to wash his hair again, but he realized once it was in his hair that it felt clean. "Meg! I washed my hair already!"

"George, taking care of you is like having an autistic seven year old, I hope you know that."

He laughed as he covered himself in body wash and quickly rinsed. He turned off the shower and opened the door with a towel around his waist. Meg took one look at his face before speaking. "You need to shave." Her comment was ignored as Joji turned towards the sink and read all the various bottles. "You look like the Asian Jesus Christ."

"Jesus comes from Asia Meg."

"Not my point, Jap. Shave your face. I'm gonna take you to get a haircut so I can go out, I have to meet someone."

Joji started laughing while she was barely done speaking. "Joj? What the fuck?"

"You were right about me being an autistic seven year old."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I'd hug you if you weren't wearing nothing but a towel..." She trailed off when she looked at him. "God! Joji! You're skin and fucking bones, I'm gonna make you something to eat while you shave."

He kept laughing as she left and closed the bathroom door. He's been laughing a lot today. It's weird. Joji doesn't laugh a lot anymore.

He picked up the razor and shaving cream like they were foreign objects. "You can do this. It's only shaving. It's not rocket science..."