[ boyxboy ]
Lennon Lewis doesn't feel quite alright. He is slowly but surely reaching for the stars with his rock band and is adored by everyone who meets him. He should be happy. But he's either too high or too low. The sweet relief is only tempora...
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Lennon's heart stops for a second. The screams in his ears are thunderous, the floor beneath his feet seems shaky as he stands behind the stage. It's Saturday, concert number one of three they have in London.
All of a sudden the lights dim and his heart pounds when he hears his name shouted through the venue. How did he deserve this? He doesn't deserve this. Nobody should worship him like this. Idolize him like this. He is not good and never will be. Pathetic.
He hears Nate's voice somewhere behind him, but it's hard to understand. All he can hear is the rush of his blood in his ears, his heart thumping as he blindly reaches for somebody and that somebody, he doesn't know who, hands him a guitar. They are ushered towards the stage and he flinches when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. The grip is strong and feels safe, familiar, his head snapping around to see who it is. It's Jorja. Her lips are stretched into a wide grin as she tells him not to be nervous or something like that. But he is not nervous, he never is nervous on stage. That is where he feels most secure and comfortable.
Lennon wants to tell her that, he wants to tell her the truth, that he's been down in a hole for months now, for a year almost, just falling. It started with sleeping pills, he couldn't sleep. He was losing his mind, everyone knew how fragile he was after what happened with William and they all tried to help.
Jorja was around all the time, hot chocolates and endless Netflix nights. Sam took him to bookstores and Nate bought him a new guitar. They were mostly busy with recording the album for a couple of months and then promoting it, doing gigs and TV appearances in the UK and America.
It all happened over the night - the number one single, the millions of followers, the MTV music video awards, covers of magazines and campaigns for major fashion labels. Creative directors of all famous brands loved him. He definitely didn't want to go back to modelling but every now and then he would do a guest appearance in some of the campaigns or sit in a front row of a fashion week show - he liked the beautiful clothes and he also liked making his fans happy by using this platform to promote openness and freedom to be whoever they want to be very often wearing gender fluid clothing that fashion brands offered.
It was all exciting and well deserved and ironic - majority of the songs that made that album, one of the best alternative rock albums of the year is inspired by William - his endless inspiration. Because of that fact he would end up crying in front of his friends, sometimes, when he would drink too much, and they hugged him, stayed with him, tried to make him smile or distract him.
He drinks less now but he still can't sleep and... Well, the nightmares started. The ones with the face of his past - wrinkly face, cold hands smeared with paint and cruelty. And now. He is just numb.
Cocaine usually helps him. He hides it from them because he doesn't want them to worry, they already lost so much of their time and energy on him, and he doesn't deserve any of that. But it gets worse now, cocaine fucks him up - like he is on the edge of panic attack.
