thick skull | tayley ✓

thick skull

"I am a magnet for broken pieces.
I am attracted to broken people.
I pick them up and now my fingers are bleeding
And it looks like it's my fault."
paramore

Taylor wandered down the streets, feeling like a mess.

His heart felt broken, physical pain searing through his chest while his limbs hung numbly at his side.

He knew he shouldn't be there. Shouldn't be out in the open, walking at the edge of a rather busy street. He shouldn't, not while the tears were running down his cheeks, anyway.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could imagine the people passing noticing who he was, taking their phone out to snap a picture of the guitarist, but he didn't care. He knew he should, but he didn't.

Instead he let out a deep breath and threw his head up to look at the dark, stormy clouds. Running his fingers through his hair, he could feel the first raindrop fall against his skin.

He hadn't brought so much as a jacket with him since he'd left in such a hurry. All he knew right now was that he needed to find somewhere to shelter from the storm.

But a place for shelter? Where could that be? He let out a bitter chuckle when he realized he had no idea where he was headed or where he could go.

The soft raindrops soon turned into pouring rain. Cars raced by, making the rain rise from the street and onto the bottoms of his jeans, but again, he couldn't seem to care.

He kept on walking and walking, politely shaking his head when a kind woman offered him a ride. Instead he let his body fall down on the bench at a bus stop.

The first plan was to just hide away, to bury his head into his hands and bury his elbows into his knees and pretend he wasn't even there. But instead he found himself staring at the dark clouds while thunder clapped around him.

The streets were more empty now, seeing as many people wouldn't want to be out in this weather, and somehow it made Taylor feel worse, even if he didn't necessarily wanna be around people right now anyway.

He doesn't know how long he sat there. All that he knew was at the end, the sun had started to set, and his body was getting colder. The street light illuminated his surroundings, and eventually he decided to reach for his phone and unlocked the screen.

Not a single message.

That's the moment he started to really let the panic set in. Because what now? What could he do now? Where could he go?

His heart picked up and eyes teared up again because he didn't know the answer to any of the questions clouding his mind.

He couldn't go home, that much he'd already made his mind up about. Instead, he pulled himself off the bench and walked in the opposite direction, this time with a destination in mind.

He hadn't walked or driven the streets in a while, but the neighborhood hadn't seemed to change that much. It felt like a contrast to everything else going on in life.

It took a few minutes for him to reach the right house, but when he did, relief washed over his body. There were so many memories hanging around the house. So many nights spent there with laughter, and music, and love.

Suddenly he felt odd to be approaching the house. But after a while he realized he didn't really have another option. Plus, it was his best friend anyway. He knew he wouldn't get turned away or anything.