Band Oneshots!

Taylor Hawkins: When You're That High, Can you Feel it?

June 22nd 2018, London, Queen Elizabeth Park. The day of the most anticipated event of your life. A Foo Fighters concert like no other. The stadium would be packed with over eighty thousand people and you had anxiety. Not to mention, a drug problem, and an expensive one at that. Cocaine wasn't cheap and you sure did a lot of it. It was only an hour before the stadium started letting people in and you felt a panic attack coming on. You tried to fight it, you really did. You walked by the river for a while, you smoked a cigarette or two and put your music on. You even considered buying a beer. Just anything to calm you down. Then you gave up. You ran to the toilets, baggie in hand and locked yourself in the stall. You quickly wiped down the back of the toilet and poured out way too much. You hastily racked out about five lines before grabbing a note from your purse and rolling it up. As you were about to sniff, your favourite Foo Fighters song came on in your headphones. Sunday Rain... Taylor Hawkins was your favourite member and he didn't sing many songs. Out of the ones he did, this was your favourite. The coke was gone in seconds and you felt better. You left the toilet and started to walk back towards the river. You sat down on the grass and led back, enjoying the affects of the drug washing over you. All of a sudden, you felt a tap on your shoulder and sat up.
"You got somethin' under your nose there darlin'" an American and familiar voice said once you'd taken your headphones out. It was him. Taylor. And he knew. He wasn't stupid. He'd done it. He knew exactly what was going on.
"Taylor... hi..." you sighed. You couldn't quite work out why you were so nervous. He didn't know you, he wasn't going to care or bother with staying and talking. Maybe he was just trying to be helpful in a small way. You rubbed your hand under your nose and removed the white powder. You looked at it for a moment, considering sniffing it off. All of a sudden, a tanned, calloused yet surprisingly gentle hand clasped around your wrist.
"Come on, now. Don't do that. Doesn't even do anythin', you know that," he smiled sadly. Then he sat by you and took out a pack of smokes. "Want one?" He offered. You hesitated before nodding. He handed you a straight and lit it for you before lighting his own.
"It's not gonna fix anythin', ya know?"
"What?" You stared at him, confused.
"Coke don't help shit. It ain't gonna help your anxiety, your depression or whatever shit you've got goin' on. It's only gonna make it worse in the long run," he sighed.
You couldn't stop staring. Why was he bothering with you? You were just a coked up fan.
"Why do you care?"
"You're a human bein', you're a fan and you're a darn pretty lady. It hurts me to see anyone like this, but I feel like I have a duty to help you right now," he explained. Then you got agitated.
"A duty? You have a 'duty' to help me? You don't even know me, man! You have no responsibility to help me, no connection to me and no goddamn reason to care. Why don't you just run off back stage and take your pity away to someone that wants it?" You growled. You waited for him to stand up and walk away, to look at least a little bit hurt or shocked, but he didn't. He simply shuffled closer to you and put his arm around your shoulders.
"You know that's not what I meant, or why I stopped. And you know you didn't mean none of that. You're fucked, sweet'eart. You're off your face and you're mad. I get that," he muttered.
You felt a tear prick at your eye and you shook it away.
"It's hard, Taylor. It's fucking hard! I have to deal with all this shit by myself, with no one and nothing getting me through!"
"And drugs are gonna help? That's what's gonna get you through, take the pain away, yeah?" He chuckled.
"At least for a little while. That's all I need! Just a little escape..." You whimpered. He turned himself to face you as he grabbed your hand and threw his cigarette down.
"Yeah, well that little escape can become permanent real quick. I should fuckin' know. I nearly died because of that shit once! I fuckin' overdosed, and if it weren't for Dave findin' me passed out in my own fuckin' puke, I woulda died. You need to understand that, because coke ain't a game."
You felt his hand start to shake, still not quite over the trauma of his near death experience.
"God, Taylor... I never knew..."
"Yeah, not many people do. I care, see? I don't wanna see someone as sweet and pretty as yourself die. If I heard about that and I didn't stop to help, I'd never forgive myself. If I had a chance to help someone in need and I didn't take it, how could I live with that? I couldn't, not after what happened to me..." he sighed as his eyes started to water. You ran your thumb over his knuckles and sighed yourself.
"I just don't know what I'm meant to do. I've got no one. I don't have someone like Dave to come and check up on me and help me get through..."
Taylor smiled.
"Ya know, you don't need anyone. Sure, Dave was there when I needed him, but I'm the one that really put the work in to sort myself out. That's what you gotta do. You need to want to get better as much as I want you to, or you're gonna be stuck like this until you're just another statistic," he smiled. He really thought you could do this. And that made you want to. That mans smile made your heart flutter and almost made you sober up immediately.
"Tell ya what, we'll make a deal. I give you my number, and I get you back stage. All you gotta do is get clean. Throw away what you got, and stop. And you call me as soon as you wanna relapse. You fuckin call me no matter what time it is for me. If not, you're in some sort o' trouble," he winked. You cracked a smile and nodded.
"Fine, it's a deal, Hawkins," you grinned as you held your hand out for him to shake. He took the gesture and helped you up.
"Gimme the drugs then," he demanded. You didn't fight him, you just did what he asked. As much as you were glad to be getting back on track and that you'd met your idol, it fucking hurt to see that bag go in the bin. Money wasted on something that was wasting you away. As you started to think, you realised you couldn't remember the last time you'd had a proper meal, or went out with friends or really done anything. It had taken over. You were glad to see it gone.
"Hey, Tay?"
"Yo," he laughed. You had to chuckle.
"What's your wife gonna think about you giving out your number to fans?"
"Ahh, Ali's cool. She can't really say much now we're separated," he stated. You looked at him, shocked.
"Oh my god, Taylor, I'm so sorry! I had no idea," you whispered. He simply shook his head.
"It's cool, we're still great friends, and it means I can do this," he said. You looked at him, once again with a look of obvious confusion as he chuckled and shook his head. Then he leant in and kissed you softly. He pulled away and grabbed your hand as you stood, taken aback.
"Let's get you backstage, huh? You can meet the rest of the band! They're gonna love you! Oh, and don't let me down. Or that won't happen again," he winked at you. You didn't know what to say, so you just smiled and walked away with him, knowing you would never do that drug again.

Hey, guys! So I actually went to this concert and it was fucking sick!! No, I wasn't off my face on nose sugar, no I didn't meet Taylor (sad times :'(...). But I would like to address something. I've done a lot of oneshots recently that revolve around drugs. Yes, I did used to have a drug problem. Pretty much, anything that's spoken about in these stories, it's happened to me. Self harm, suicide attempts, bulimia, rape and more recently, drugs. No, I'm not ashamed. Do I wish it hadn't happened, of course I do! I've lost almost two years of my life that I'll never remember because I was high the whole time. Sure, I had fun, but I need to get my life on track now. Writing about this shit, it helps me cope. So I'm sorry if anything has triggered anyone, but it helps me be less triggered.
On another note, I now have a Beatles imagines book. Two of them I took from this book, but the other three are new ones. So if you like the Fab Four, check it out my dude! Okay, if you read all of this, you're a fucking legend. If not, fair enough my dude. Have a snazzy, safe and drug/sadness free week, guys! Love you all! 💛