OMG THANK YOU GUYS FOR 10k THATS MADDD?! WTH!!!??? LOVE YOU SO MUCH OMG
This was requested by @cuddlesblake but it's once again written as y/n
You are such a sweet, kind person. I hope you enjoy this, it turned out a lot longer than I intended originally (4000+ words)
It was quite difficult to write, angles and povs was tricky but I got there and I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING IT.
I have some song suggestions to listen to whilst reading this:
First- Untitled by Simple Plan
Second- Overexposed by Sleep On It
Third- Crash by You Me At Six
They are really good songs and fit with this imagine really well so I'd love if you would listen to them, preferably in that order, whilst reading, but as always, it's your choice, enjoy xx
Written- 20/06/18
Blake didn't want to tell anyone how he was feeling. He didn't want his emotions ruling his head, he didn't want to upset anyone. He didn't want to feel this way anymore.
He hated to admit it, but sometimes it all got too much. Sometimes he felt ways that he couldn't explain, felt things he couldn't account for, things he didn't want to feel and tried to push away, but the dark thoughts didn't leave.
"Blake, cmon, we'll be late", Reece called from outside the door.
Blake looked at himself in the bathroom mirror again. He took in the sight of his eyes, the big, heavy black bags and the purple circles, it was obvious he hadn't slept in a few days.
Every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by images of fame, of the things he hated about it, the press, the media, the long days and late nights, the fact that he always had to appear upbeat in front of the fans, even when he felt like shit.
He saw a life where he couldn't leave the house without being ambushed, bombarded by people who knew everything about him, or at least they thought they did.
They all thought that they knew him, they all acted like they were his best friends, but how could they know anything? How could they know anything when all he ever said was fake?
All he ever said was fabricated to within an inch of itself, he knew how to answer in interviews, he knew how to tweet and make it look like what he was saying was true, even if he didn't believe a word of what he was saying, he knew the way he should act in public, the way he needed to smile and wave and he knew how to put on a show up on stage.
He knew what the fans thought of him, and he was grateful, grateful for their love and support, but he knew they were loving and supporting a guy that he wasn't. Sometimes it felt like the only thing he gave the fans that was true was his voice and his instruments, that was something he couldn't fake, even if he did fake the lyrics. The words that were placed in front of him, words that he had no choice but to sing, chords he had no choice but to play.
The words faking it till you make it really didn't apply, even once you've made it, you carry on faking it, he realised.
"Joe has already texted twice", Reece continued, "they've been waiting for twenty minutes"
Blake knew what Reece was thinking, even if he didn't say it aloud, waiting for you.
Joe had reassured them that this meeting wasn't serious, that it was about dates to release the latest single, but he couldn't help but worry.
What if he had been acting differently lately and joe had noticed? What if he was angry?
The worst thought bounced into his head, uninvited, like so many other dark thoughts, what if they dropped him from the band and the label?
