DAYLIGHT FADING

twenty six | this fear's got a hold on me

I stare down at the blank page before I throw my pencil across the room. I’ve managed the odd line of lyrics but apparently the general block on my being able to write extends to everything.

Luckily, people think my taking to wearing large stacks of bangles round my wrists is something of a fashion statement and Matt, for all of his drugged-up faults, keeps the secret. I haven’t really gotten that far into speed, like I have with weed, trying not to make myself feel artificially light.

I have to remind myself, even when the craving to stop feeling tired all the time looms over me, that this is a punishment. There is only one person who has the right to forgive me and unfortunately, it’s not myself this time.

I’ve discovered that The Noise’s musical tastes extend much further into the mainstream than I’d realised. They pull out electronic records rather than shoegaze bands I’ve never heard of, not judging me when I start dancing to them by myself, not asking how high I am at the time. I can’t decide if they’re trying to give me space to fall apart or if they just don’t want the answer.

There is so much more to them that the hard-drinking art rockers that the magazines paint them as. Declan likes poetry and is really into biomedical science, Dylan is an amazing painter who buries himself in classic literature and Justin wants to eventually form a pop-punk band.

It leaves me curious about the years that I wasn’t with Chaos Theory. I haven’t seen Seb and Finn for so long that I’m not sure how much they’ve changed. Seb, as far as I can tell, is still of famously few words, but Finn always had an exuberance for life and I don’t want to see that having been sucked away because one of his best friends tried to kill himself.

I wonder what happened to Chris to take away the energy that used to pour out of his skin. There are still hints of it but it’s like it’s been muted and unlike Adam, I have no doubts that it’s not about me.

The thought refuses to leave my head. I unlock my phone instead, looking over the collection of quotes I’ve been sent by Jez Wild – I get at least ten every day without any kind of schedule, like she just sends them when she thinks of them, and then doesn’t respond when I text back.

I have a terrifying feeling that she’s warning me about something I am never going to see coming until it hits me.

I climb out of my bed, my muscles lethargically struggling against me. I barely have the motivation to do anything anymore. I want to just hide away from the world in the back of the tour bus, to pull the covers over my head and disappear for good before I can hurt any more people.

Instead, I find some of my clothes that don’t need washing and aren’t wrinkled, pulling them on in the bathroom. There seems to be an unspoken rule that the rest of the tour bus can get messy but that both the sink and the bathroom have to be nearly immaculate. I can’t say that I’m complaining.

I wander into the kitchen, smiling when Justin presses a mug into my hands the second I come through the door.

“We heard you stumbling around like an elephant and figured you’d need caffeine,” I smile at Declan, who has some sort of textbook on his lap. I think that when The Noise collapses he’ll go to university and get a degree in something like medicine. As much as he enjoys playing the drums, I think he’s more comfortable as an academic and a part-time photographer.

I think I’ll have to introduce him to Chris one day, so that they can compare notes on photography. Whilst Chris is no academic, always far more skilled at raising hell than raising his grades, I do think he needs someone to be close to outside of the band who understands what touring is like.

I sit down in what has come to be designated as my armchair, sipping at my coffee. Surprisingly, it’s plain, which may be a first for Justin. Judging by the colour of his tea, he’s just decided to be nice to me this morning.