Friend, Please (twenty one pilots)

Thirteen

Dancing over the white keys, my hands found tunes that my ears had never heard. Tunes that didn't make sense or feel right, but every so often I'd find a set that would be clear. I wrote them down, then moved on. I wasn't trying to find anything but rather just distract my mind and, it worked.

I cleared my throat, looking over my shoulders as if someone would be there to catch me at one of my most vulnerable moments. Josh was at work, and the apartment was empty. I started to play notes, humming along. Attempting to follow the keys, my hum came to a halt. My hands abruptly stopped and dropped to the top of my thighs. Clearing my throat again, I picked up my hands.

Hovered above the keys.

Made contact with my fingertips as gentle as I could.

Pressed down and let my hand go with the flow.

My hum turned into a note and continued for a few more moments before words fell out. I shocked myself at the choice of words, but they were natural. Quickly, I stopped and grabbed a notepad and pencil. Scribbling the words down, I tried the process again. Over and over. More words which made sense. I even closed my eyes and found the keys on their own, smiling to myself as I repeated some phrases to see what they felt like dripping from my tongue. Were they smooth? Sharp? Were they me or were they someone else?

The swearing coming from Josh pulled me from my safe haven, my eyes shooting open. A loud bang ripped through the room from the door being slammed, Josh dropping his bag next to the coat rack. I turned, seeing the poor guy being overtaken by this blood red anger.

"Why aren't you at work?" I asked.

Josh shot me a glare, "I got fired."

I stood, not sure how he would react to this whole situation. The words which flowed so easily a few moments ago were struggling to even soak into my voice box.

"I don't know why or how but they didn't want me working there anymore... I worked hours which I didn't even get paid for just so they would keep me and I could learn more. I offered to do extra jobs or do extra shifts and they still didn't want me!"

The boy started to yell, his hands in fists and his agitated body starting to pace.

"Josh, it's okay."

"It's not okay, nothing is okay!" he shouted, itching to hit something.

"It might not be right now but it will be, it'll be okay."

"Stop trying to make everything okay! You can't, alright? This is my fault! I'm the one who got fired!"

Silence fell on the room around us, the gaze Josh held on me showing instant regret. The fists unclenched for a moment and his facial expression softened. I didn't want to admit it, but I didn't know how to help him in that moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, Ty..."

I nodded, "I know."

Feeling the guilt consume him, he left the living room and closed himself off in his bedroom. I stood there and waited. For what, I'm not sure. When I first talked to him in his house when he was angry, I knew what to say. Or at least I knew what to try to say... now, I'm struggling to feel worthy enough to go and talk to him. I don't feel that my help is what he needs or even enough. Instead, I sit back at the piano and stare and the keys, hoping they may tell me what to do.

My shoulders raised a little as I took a deep breath in, my eyes switching their focus to the world outside the window. Blue sky, no clouds. A few planes and birds, but just blue. Not a baby blue or dark blue... just, sky blue. I wondered how we named colours?

My daydream was yet again interrupted by the sound of a crash from Josh's room. I flinched a little at the thought of what it could be and how much damage he had done. Something that I did know is that when the sniffles and sobs quietly filled my ears, I needed to leave him for a while. This instinct told me to let him be alone. Not in a cruel way, but for him to process how he's feeling and stuff. Sometimes when I felt bad about being alone, I needed to be alone in order to figure out how to stop feeling alone. I hope that makes sense to you.

Gently, my finger tips found some chords. They pressed down once, twice, three times. The same chords were pressed over and over like someone tapping their finger impatiently, my mind wandering and trying to block out the sound of Josh hitting the wall occasionally with something. Hopefully, it was a ball instead of his fist.

With those notes being pressed upon, I looked to the window again. Blue sky. Fresh air.

"Together, let's breathe." I spoke, another thud from Josh's room. "Together, to the beat."

One hand left the keyboard and started tapping on the side of the seat I was perched on, creating a metronome sound. The other hand continued to tirelessly repeat the same chords.

"But there's hope out the window, so that's where we'll go."

I stopped and wrote down the words, the chords underneath in a scruffy manner. My hands returned to the keys.

"I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep... but I can't when you have..."

I stopped again. There weren't any words ready to come out my mouth to finish that sentence and I wasn't sure why. Furrowing my eyebrows together, my hands sat on top of my thighs again as I turned to Josh's door. The thuds had stopped again, and the sniffling had replaced it fully. I can imagine him sat there on his bed, hands sore and bruised. Tears down his face. I've been in that situation many times before in the past. Not knowing what to do or where to go. Who to talk to. How to go forward. I felt this weight push down on my chest and wrap around my body and in that moment I only wished that I'd had one thing to stop it all.

"but I can't when you have, guns for hands."

The lyrics weren't important. I would tuck it away in my brain to stop it from falling away from me, but my legs stood me up and took me over to Josh's door. Softly, I knocked. I danced my hand over the door handle for a few seconds before actually letting myself in, revealing Josh sat on the side of his bed just as I had imagined. His hands were over his face and he was propping his elbows on his knees. There was a hole in one of his closet doors, the thin Ikea materials showing their true colours.

Usually, you would say something. You would give the person something to listen to or a solution to their problem. I loved getting problems to solve with words. It was my favourite thing to do and studying words could be fascinating. They could be powerful and full of emotion. Or they could be meaningless. There's a fine line between the two.

Instead of overwhelming Josh with big words of life lessons, I perched on the side of his bed next to him. When he felt the weight shift where I sat down, he wiped his eyes and tried to put on a brave face without looking embarrassed. But the tears wouldn't stop flowing.

I put my arm around his shoulders, rubbing his arm slightly. There were no words for this situation, that's why I couldn't find them. It just needed time and for Josh to know he wasn't alone. That was a lesson for me. Sometimes you can't always find the words to fix the problem because there are none. But there are other ways to help fix the problem. I'd never really had the friends to learn that. But, although I had just learnt this lesson, I still had something to say.

"We're going to take over the world, Josh. This is just the beginning."