I still love you | Maylor fanfiction

30

Brian's P.O.V.

Again, I woke up with a scream. Shaking, sweating, nauseous and my head spinning I jumped out of the bed, panicking for a while and having no idea where I am.
I was completely unable to get used to those states, and I felt that they were slowly killing me. There wasn't a night when I would sleep well.
I gasped for air, running my hands though my hair.

"Bloody hell, are you alright?" Came from the dark, making me jerk myself in shock.
"Oh god," I breathed out. "Yeah, yeah, in f-fine, fine," I assured Roger. He still was in my room. And I must have woken him up.
"Don't lie to me. You're not."
"I'm fine," I kept on blurting out. "I just need- just need..." I didn't know what I needed. Nothing. Everything. Him. The only one. Him. Roger.
"-some air," I spat out, grasping my coat with my shivering hands, and rushing out of the door mindlessly.
"Wait! Bri, wait!" I could hear the shouts after me. But I didn't wait. I had to get away.

Roger's P.O.V.

It was one of Brian's nightmares again. I knew it. And I wanted to go after him and comfort him, but unfortunately, at that exact time, my nausea arrived. So I spent the entire morning by the toilet.

Brian came back just before lunch.
"Hey. Are you alright?" I asked just as soon as he came in the door.
"Yeah I'm good," he claimed. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Yeah," he mumbled. "I don't want to talk about it now."
"Alright. When you do, just come to me."
"Okay. Thank you," he said so silently it almost sounded like a whisper, smiling.

—————-

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.
This evening, we had a gig again. Again, I was stressed out. Again. I was nauseous. Again, everything from yesterday, the horrible, dreadful state, came back.
We were in a rush today. We barely made it in time, so I didn't take any alcohol with me. I started panicking already in the car. I was sweating all over, trying to figure out what the hell am I going to do, while held myself not to shake. I must have been terribly pale, because I felt worried looks from Brian land on me every minute, which stressed me out even more.
When we arrived, I stormed out of the vehicle, and all what was left for me to do, was to rush in the exact same bathroom as I did yesterday, and trow everything I ate before up.

Cowering on the freezing ground, I was shaking uncontrollably, covered in sweat, panting heavily as an animal. My thoughts were running around as crazy, I was completely unable to set them straight. Banging my head against the wall, tears escaping my eyes, I thought I was going mad. Fear filled me from inside.
What was I going to do?
I didn't know how it was even possible but it was even worse than yesterday. The image of standing up, and actually going somewhere was totally imaginary. I couldn't do it. I couldn't even turn my head without vomiting.
As a cold stab, realization hit me; that there was no way of solving this. I won't arrive in time. The boys will eventually find me. We will miss the show. They will kick us out. It will be only my fault. The guys will find out. But most importantly, I will ruin my own dream. I wanted to be out there and play. I wanted huge crowds watching us and cheering. I wanted all of this. But now, I couldn't do it. I failed. I failed myself. I was a wreck.

This was a mistake. I should have never gone for this. I should have never picked up my drumsticks after I moved away from my parents. I should have never practiced in the bar. I should have stayed in school. Maybe some day I would get a job and make some money. And stay nobody for my whole life. But like this, I ruined careers and dreams of not only me, but three other amazing and incredibly talented people. They put their trust in me and I betrayed them. And I betrayed Brian. He offered me his help many, many times, he knew something was wrong and wanted to help me, cared about me, but I didn't care. I always pushed him away because I felt ashamed. I always stupidly thought I can make it in my own, that it will pass. No, actually I don't think about it all. I ruined everything.