Friend, Please (twenty one pilots)

Twenty Five

The feeling that I had felt standing in front of the kitchen sink was hard to describe. As soon as I had made that realisation about making a purpose out of the bruises, I leapt at my piano. The paper was scribbled on late into the night and past the pizza. I needed to get this out of my system.

No questions were asked by Josh about the state of the kitchen, but he knew that I was going through a bad day. I thanked him as he offered to clean it up, the piano filling the apartment as he did so. Before he went into bed, I had completed the notes. I sat there effortlessly playing the melody over and over as I hummed and closed my eyes.

"We should play this at Newport." Josh interrupted softly.

I continued to play but with less force, the volume decreasing as I opened my eyes and took in his words. We had a show coming up to showcase ourselves to the rest of the label but most importantly to formally introduce our signed selves to our audience. It wasn't about impressing anybody. We were already backed by a record company. It was about being in the moment and being a live band. Maybe this wordless melody was something that they needed to hear.

Nodding before I could fully think it through, Josh put his hand on my shoulder. My fingers paused on the keys as he made contact, my eyes glued to the piece of paper in front of me with a rough drawing of a kitchen sink on it.

"Get some sleep and show me in the morning. We can figure it out."

Without a word, I obeyed. My hands were taken away from the keys and my notebook was closed as I found my way back into my bedroom. I heard Josh's door go and a wave of sleep pulled me under. I was so exhausted. I hoped that the Newport show would recharge me.

The next day was spent with Josh working on the lyrics. We weren't forcing them, just trying out different words. Different sequences and drum patterns. It came fluently from both of us and by the show the next day, we were ready.

I took a deep breath in and looked out into the crowd. We were half way through the show with so much more to give and the feeling of pure ecstasy was slowly filing into my veins again. My fingers hovered above the first keys, the doubt making me glance over at Josh who nodded to go ahead. I let my breath out and began.

"Nobody thinks what I think." I started, reeling off the words from my tongue as if I had been speaking them for years.

My fingers hit the keys on the piano harder and messier, notes being missed and the tingling in my hands itching. I wasn't in a good place, but the music was soothing my rash. I closed my eyes and let my head sway to the music before the next verse. I just let myself be. The crowd had caught on and started humming along to the waves of music, sweat trickling over my eyelids and down to my chin as I searched for something inside my brain.

Anything. Hope. Strength. Right now, I needed it. I felt like I had been tripped over by a rock and I couldn't get myself back up but the water was rising fast. I needed help and I needed to get back up but I truly couldn't.

Opening my eyes before the next set of words left my mouth was difficult. I wanted to stay in that moment forever and play those chords over.

"Nobody thinks what you think."

Then we got to my favourite part. Where I could close my eyes again. I felt safe when I could close them, being in the darkness but still hearing my way around. I could hear people singing, yelling, cheering. The piano was soft and the drums were quiet. The high keys twinkled in my ears. I could feel the heat rising into my cheeks once again, the backing track kicking in as I stood from the piano with my microphone in hand.

Part of me was terrified to do this next part. Part of me asked why I wanted to do it. There is no meaning for this one, though. Not like Holding On To You. Right now, this next stunt was just for myself. I wanted my heart to beat faster. I wanted to be scared. I wanted to be in control.

"Help me out." I muttered after I put the microphone down, only the first few rows hearing me.

I looked over to Josh who was still drumming, focusing on me as if he was a nervous Mother on her son's first day of school. I felt like that too.

My shirt was pulled off over my head, the cold breeze hitting my chest and bare back. Then my shoes. Then my socks. I stood in front of the crowd in the centre, pulling a red mask out of my back pocket. My eyes scanned the room and found some people at the back who looked as if they were from the label, their heads nodding along and taking in the atmosphere.

I hopped down into the pit and climbed the barricade once again, hands grabbing at my jeans and bare arms. Pulling the mask over my head, I felt at home. I felt protected. Leaning forward, I was caught by the crowd and I started to clamber over their sweaty bodies towards the back of the room.

Every muscle in me ached for me to stop, to just let go and fall to the ground and stop crushing these poor people. But with every hand that grabbed me and pulled me forward, I took in a breath and reached out for another. It was as if I was swimming in this pool of the feeling I had created with this music. They understood me and I wanted to celebrate that... but right now, I just needed to get through the show.

At the end of the show, I was exhausted. Mark hopped around the place and showed us various shots he took, his words telling us about how he was excited to upload the videos to our YouTube. Label people thanked us and congratulated us. People came and went and Josh stood by my side, speaking on behalf of me.

"Come on, let's go home." I heard Josh say, patting my back as the people around us continued to work and pack up.

I ignored his request. Instead, I headed towards the stage again. I didn't know Josh was following and I didn't care at that point, but I needed to see this place again. The lights were off and the house lights were dim. The floor was empty. The drums and piano were gone. It was just a stage. Just a stage that we were standing on. No one was there but us.

"It's pretty cool, isn't it?" Josh asked, joining me by my side. "I hope we can play here again one day."

Nodding in agreement, I sat down and crossed my legs. I took a deep breath in and let it out. I looked out into the empty venue and imagined all those people who were here only 20 minutes ago. All for us.

"They're out there, Josh."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head turn to me. He studied my position and what had my attention before sitting beside me, his knees up to his chest.

"They're waiting for us."

Josh looked out into the emptiness, "Who's waiting for us?"

"Our fans. Our friends. Our people."

He smiled, "Our clique."

I mirrored his facial expression as I looked to him, "Our skeleton clique."

We sat there in silence as we took in the events of the evening. The emotions that whizzed around my brain onstage were slowly taking their places and keeping quiet at the back. I didn't feel as heavy.

"We need to go on tour."

And we did. We needed to go on tour. Before we went home that night, we trudged through the battlefield of the empty floor in the venue. Pieces of confetti filled the space, crushed plastic cups and the odd ticket. Then, among all of the small pieces of coloured paper, there was a sign. A simple sign on A4 with two simple words on them. Thank you.

Oh, but you have no idea how much I need to thank you for.