your static voice beside mine

i want to hear your voice again

"Is this the kid who scared me half to death last night?" Josh speaks in a joking tone, trying to set the mood a bit lighter than last night. A repeat would send him spiraling for sure. He's surprised that he managed to keep it together.

"That's me!" Johnny forces a bit of a laugh, but he's happy to hear Josh's voice nonetheless.

"So...how have you been?" Josh asks with genuine interest.

"Well in the last 24 hours that we've talked, I've slept in late, pissed off my mother, and had another unpleasant meeting with my therapist. So all in all, pretty good for the most part."

"Sounds fun," Josh says sarcastically.

"It is. It's fun to watch them crash and burn trying to help someone who can't be saved," Johnny laughs as he sits up to stare at the stars.

Josh's plans to keep the conversation surface level has failed. Johnny doesn't seem like the type to know what to share and what to keep hidden. Josh knew how to do this all too well. Hiding was the only way to be taken seriously around his parents, and even then he wouldn't get along with them. Long story short, Josh summed up that neither were good with their emotions.

"What happened with your mom?" Josh asks.

"Just another futile attempt for me to turn my life around. She's all like 'You need to take your therapy seriously' and 'you need to get a real job because the music industry is too hard to make it in'. You know, the usual stuff that loving mothers look out for."

Saying these things out loud hits Johnny harder than usual. He's always dealt with his mother, but hearing her say the same damaging realities over and over like a broken record has made him more tired by the day.

"You play music?" Josh asks, astonished that they have a common interest.

"Kind of. I taught myself how to play the piano, and I sing and write.. I'm sort of in a band right now," Johnny admits.

"That's really cool. I work in a music store! Well, just the warehouse," Josh exclaims.

"Really? That's sick! Do you play anything?"

"Just the drums, although my parents made me take trumpet lessons when I was a kid. I don't think I'm spectacular or anything."

Hearing those words makes Johnny sad. It's often how he feels sometimes, but he could never quit music. It's the only way he knows how to cope.

"I bet you're better than you think," Johnny replies, trying his best to compliment Josh.

"So do you play shows a lot?" Josh asks, getting hooked on the conversation as he lets his gaze wander.

"Every chance I get! It's easy to practice because we all live together."

"You live in a house with your band?"

"Yep. Just the three of us. We made our first album in the basement," Johnny says with pride.

"That's so amazing! You sound so accomplished," Josh tells him as Johnny rolls his eyes.

"You don't have to kiss up to me," Johnny teases as he lets out a disbelieving laugh.

"No I'm serious! You can sing, write, and play the piano. That's impressive!"

"I guess so. It sounds way more epic when you say it," Johnny says.

"Well it's incredible. You should be proud. Not many people our age can say they're part of a band and playing shows."

Through the other end of the line, Johnny sits on his bed, his keyboard resting lightly on his lap. It was a Christmas gift from his mother. The keys feel familiar under his soft fingers as he fumbles with melodies and memories in his head.

"So you play drums huh? You really should pursue that," Johnny says to Josh, hoping his encouragement works.

"Well, I may have already pursued it..."

"What? Wait- were you in a band?"

"Maybe," Josh says shyly.

"Oh my God! You were in a band!"

"We toured a bit too, but I was just taking the place of the original drummer." Josh isn't used to the sudden interest Johnny has given him. He's never liked to talk about himself much.

"And you said you weren't cut out for that." Johnny can't believe it.

"Well just because I might not be cut out for it doesn't mean I'm gonna quit doing it. It's better than working at a job that'll lead nowhere," Josh says in a joking manner. Letting the words sit with him, however, makes him realize the truth of his statement.

He looks down at his bright blue wristwatch, torn at the edges and slightly off-colored. It's a little late, and his tiredness finally catches up to him.

"Hey uh, it's getting late. I should get to bed. I'll call you later, ok?"

"Alright. Bye."

Johnny hangs up and continues to try and create something new. Nothing is coming to him. It's like everything that comes out of him has to be from a dark place. He wants to be happy. He really does.

But these fleeting moments with Josh can't distract him from the fact that he's still beyond unhappy. His mind is like a dark and barren wasteland only capable of seeing everything that could go wrong. Why is Josh even putting up with him? Why did he even call? He must feel guilty. He's probably only half-listening. The possibilities drive him mad, further and further into plunging darkness.

He sets his keyboard lightly on the floor as he trades his day clothes with his pajamas. First, he puts on a faded white tee-shirt, followed by his underwear and dark plaid shorts. He gets into bed, usually enjoying the steady rhythm of his routine. But tonight just felt...incomplete.

Johnny doesn't even know how much time has passed. It's always felt like a slow thing, something he wished he could control. Like maybe, if he sat in his bed long enough, he could stop it.

The phone rings. Johnny halts as he reaches for it and answers it again.

"Sorry sorry, I know we ended the call a while ago. I couldn't sleep."

Josh was calling him again. The notion brought a smile to Johnny's face, perhaps the first one he's experienced in a long time.

"Good. I couldn't either."

Not my own writing making me soft hhhh. I hope you all are enjoying this because writing this is one of the only things I'm enjoying rn :)