crush | janiel

chapter one

"daniel you're making us late."
"i'm literally here, shut up," i replied back, while shivering.
the noise of screaming fans were still happening outside the bus and i'd just come back from crossing it all. and on top of that getting mobbed.
"you cold?" corbyn asked as i passed by him while putting my coat down.
"yeah, it's at least negative something out there."
"daniel, it's 34."
"close enough," i shrugged.
i pushed past him to the bunks of the bus as i saw the rest of the guys doing the same as me. we'd just finished a show, and all of us were exhausted from doing back to back shows. it was stressful, but we all had such a love for shows and putting on concerts., it was impossible to cancel or postpone shows back.
"i'm sad we can't cake corbyn in the face this year on stage."
i laughed as corbyn scoffed at zach's comment.
"did you want that to happen?" he asked.
"no shit corbyn."
"that's so unfair, i'm the only one who got caked in the face," i protested.
"daniel shut up you deserved it anyways."
"hey!" i snapped back as both of the guys laughed at me.
"can you guys be any more loud?"
i crouched down to jonah's bunk since he was in it and smiled at him, waving sarcastically as he swatted my hand away.
"ouch."
"you deserved it, you're so obnoxious go to bed."
"i'm going, i'm going!"
i looked back up and then down again and said, "besides, my bunk's far from yours, the only person you should be worrying about is jack."
"what did i do?!" jack muffled through a mouthful of chips.
i laughed as i opened the curtain to my bunk and grabbed my notebook.
"but seriously guys, what'd i do?"
"jack shut the fuck up and go to bed."
i walked into the back of the bus which was the lounge and sat down in the chair, and started writing. not necessarily songs, but poems. poems always had a way when i wanted to capture a small moment of happiness, or even sometimes, it would bring me inspiration in writing a song. but most of the times, it was when i was bored, or didn't know what to do because i'm restless at night. especially with tour, and all 4 of us on the bus makes things hectic, and i think in a way, writing helps me collect all those moments together.
"what are you doing?"
i turned my head around and smiled as i saw jack, still devouring every pick of the chips that i bought this morning. he sat down next to me and ruffled his blonde hair up, and pushing his glasses back.
"just writing," i responded while turning the notebook in his direction as he moved it closer to him, reading the words i'd written in the past minutes. he nodded as he looked up with a smile.
"corbyn's going to love this," he responded quietly since the bus had fallen into silence, meaning that most of us were asleep. except jack and i.
i laughed as he watched as i turned the notebook back in my direction, flipping through finished and unfinished pieces of work.
"how come you only let us read the ones you want us too?" he questioned, reaching back for the bag of chips perched up in the corner of the table.
"because, some of them are personal, or some of them are literal works of shit," i responded back as jack laughed.
"you're so overdramatic, everything you write is amazing."
i looked back at him and smiled.
"well, so do you, even though you don't write much of the songs we put out, you carry it good by singing it."
jack pushed back the bag as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, probably out of exhaustion and yawned.
"but still, you're an amazing writer. zach and i add in one word like 'baby' and then make you, jonah, and corbyn do the rest," he laughed at himself.
i laughed with him and said, "well, without you, or zach, it wouldn't be the same anyway."
jack got up as he put his glasses back on as eben entered the bus.
"you were still out there?" i asked, looking concerned since the rest of us and the crew were mostly on the bus already.
"yeah, we were taking pictures and stuff until jon told me to get the fuck on the bus," he said, rolling his eyes.
"well we all know you would've stayed out there to get every single person a photo."
"and that was the goal. nailed that shit."
i rolled my eyes as jack pulled out his phone to check the time.
"ok, well i'll see you all in the morning. my mom has lav and i want to be able to talk to her when i get the chance."
eben and i nodded as jack disappeared into the bunks as eben took the chips bag on the table.
"you realize i bought it, and you guys ate it all without me taking even one."
"shut up, you finished the last of my milk yesterday and left the empty carton in the fridge, i couldn't even have cereal you bitch."
"did not! zach probably did and blamed me for it!" i scoffed.
"eh probably, but still these are mine," eben pointed to the bag. "and it's 2 am, stop working and go to bed, we have a show tomorrow."
i nodded as he left for the bunks as well and i stared down at the poem, deciding whether to add more, or cut out less. corbyn's birthday was in 2 days, and even though the boys and i decided to get him all alcohol to get him wasted, i still wanted to write something for him, like i did with the rest of the guys beforehand. i looked back at the bunks, and then at the page in my book, deciding whether to sleep, or write. and obviously, i chose to pick up the pen, and keep writing.