Fixing Us || l.h

Chapter Nine**

Song 8 of the album is linked above^

I collapse on the dance floor, sweating. I wanted to scream, I was so frustrated. "Hey, it's okay, Dylan. I can change it to be simpler. Don't worry." Erika says, looking down at me. "No, no. I can get it, let me try again." I try the move again, still not getting it. I let out a groan, running a hand through my hair. "How about we call it a day, you keep practicing and if you still can't get it, I can change it." I let out a sigh, nodding. I needed to get to rehearsal anyway.

I get in my car, going to my next rehearsal, exhausted. My band is on stage, warming up. I walk out, standing at my mic. "Sorry, I'm late." Simon nods in acknowledgment, talking with lighting. I do a mic check with the sound guy, waiting for the good-to-go to start. The man Simon was talking to leaves and Simon comes onstage, smiling at me. "Alrighty, so you don't need to dance or anything, this is more a tracking for lighting and making sure sound knows what you guys are doing more than anything else this time," Simon explains to my band and me. I nod, taking a deep breath. "Ready whenever you guys are," Simon says, stepping off stage.

I look over at my band, nodding. We go through song by song to get things mapped out, with a ton of mess-ups as I learn what I should be doing. "Great job guys," Simon says. "I'll see you next week," I say bye to the guys and go out to my car, beginning to cry. I was a mess. I couldn't do anything right. A knock on my window scares me and I look up to see Luke. I start crying harder and he opens my door and holds me in a hug while I calm down. I take a shuddery breath, pulling away.

"Thank you," I mumble, wiping my eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks. I shrug, knowing he needed to get to rehearsal himself. "I'm just going through a lot and frustrated, I'll be okay." I nod, taking a deep breath. "Go ahead to rehearsal, I'm okay," I promise. He nods, slowly walking away. "Call me if you need anything." I nod, getting back in my car. I drive home, debating going back to New York for a few days to relax, but we were less than a month out from the start of the tour and I did not feel ready at all.

I go up to my room, staring at my guitar. I could feel my anxiety start to pick up again as everything seemed to crash back down. I needed out. I grabbed a duffel bag and packed it with a few days of clothes, getting a plane ticket to New York. I shoot Peter a text that I need some mental health days and that I'll be in New York, sending it to Blake as well. I needed out of LA. I turn my phone off, get in the car, and drive to the airport. I go through security and wait at the gate, putting in headphones to drown out everything. I sleep most of the flight, feeling better once we touch down. I turn my phone back on, looking at my messages and emails. I put my phone in my bag and get a car to my old apartment, watching the city as we drove through.

I let myself into the apartment, finding it empty and dusty. I go to my room and lie back on my bed, pulling my phone back out. I read my brother's texts first, telling me to feel better and to call once I got settled. I facetime him, waiting as it rings. He picks up, giving me a small smile. "How are you feeling?" He asks, settling back in his bed. "Better, LA was just stressing me out, I needed to leave and New York always makes me feel better." He nods, understanding. "How long are you thinking you'll be there?" "Three days probably, I still have a lot to do work-wise for this tour, I can't miss too much." "Don't be too hard on yourself about this, you've been in this industry for a few months, you've done a lot in those few months. You're doing fine. Dance is hard and you don't need to remember it perfectly, you'll probably change it as you perform anyway." "Thanks, I needed that," I say with a sigh. "Of course. Get some sleep, relax, and don't worry about anything here, things will work out." I nod, hanging up after we say goodbye.

I read Peter's texts next, sensing some frustration. He says to take all the time I need though and that we will talk when I get back. I check my emails and see an updated timeline for me from Simon.

Luke calls me, startling me. I answer, taking a deep breath. "Hey." "Hey, how are you doing?" "Better, I'm in New York to relax for a little bit. I didn't realize how bad things had gotten until I broke down earlier and getting back to my brother's didn't help like it usually does so I went to the one place I knew would." "Well that's good you have a place you can go to relax! Do you need us to do anything while you are gone?" "No, I don't think so, they got my schedules changed so I think I'll be okay." "Okay, let me know if I can do anything." "Thanks, Luke." "'Course, I'll let you relax, call me if you need." "Bye Luke." We both hang up and I flop back on my bed again, letting out a long breath.

I think Luke was part of the problem. We're getting too close too fast and with tour prep on top of that, I freaked out. I stare at my ceiling, trying to figure out what I needed to make things easier. I shoot my therapist's office a text that I was back in New York and that my appointment would need to be switched to telehealth, getting confirmation almost immediately.

---

"You are doing your best, Dylan, this is all so new to you and it doesn't have to be perfect, it probably won't be perfect, but the audience won't know. You could completely forget a song but the audience will still support you, you'll just have to laugh at yourself, it happens to the best of us." Emily tells me, the therapy session is almost over. "I just-" I let out a sigh, running my hand through my hair. "It's my first tour, if I don't succeed, what then?" I wipe under my eyes, trying not to cry again. "Ask everyone you know how their first tour went, think about your brother, he put his entire first headlining tour to visit you after your attempt and his fans respected that he was dealing with a family emergency. If they don't respect that you will have mishaps and issues, they aren't real fans. This is where you reach out to your real fans and listen to them over the people pointing out the issues. We live in a terrible world where everything goes online, but the people who will stand up for you will also be there."

She had a point there, my brother and all of the boys from 5SOS also mentioned to look at the fans not the haters. "What are you thinking?" Emily asks, snapping me from my thoughts. "How my brother and the 5SOS boys would always tell me to listen to the fans and not the haters." I shrug, picking at my nail. "They're exactly right. They are also the people to reach out to when you're struggling, they know the industry, they can walk you through the hard parts. It's not a bad thing to reach out for help, you're new, you're allowed to ask for help." I nod, wiping under my eyes again. "I just want to be good enough." "Who do you want to be good enough for?"

The question caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting it. I open my mouth to respond but pause, not actually sure what to say. "Your true fans will always say you're good enough, your brothers will too, the haters shouldn't be listened to, who is it for?" I slump back in my seat. "My mom, me..." I drift off, knowing my mom was still haunting me even though it's been months since we've spoken or seen each other. "Why do you feel you need to be good enough for your mom?" Another question I wasn't fully prepared for. "I still feel like I need to prove to her that I can make it without her. That I can handle this world even though she doesn't think I can. That I can prove to myself that I can make it in this world because it's what I want." Emily smiles softly, nodding. "Then focus on proving to yourself that even though it may not be perfect, you're doing this for yourself because its what you want, and you've been given the incredible opportunity at a chance to be able to do this."

I nod, understanding where this was going. "That is all the time we have though, will we be back in person next week?" She asks. I look at the time, seeing we went over a few minutes. "Sorry, yes, back in person." I nod. "Okay, I will see you next week. Reach out if you need anything, okay?" "I will, thank you." I smile. I log off the session, taking a deep breath. I grab my phone, scrolling to Erica's text with a contact in New York that has an open studio if I wanted to get some practice in while I was here.