Tales From the Dragon Cave

Shots • D a n

A/N: So this is what I've been working on. A few quick notes about it:
+It's all made up and just for fun, of course.
+Don't take these chapters too seriously, some are sad and some are humorous and some are downright pointless.
+They're not necessarily in chronological order, they're in the tracklist order.
+They focus more on Dan than the other guys simply because I find the lyrics to be the most story-inspiring part of a song.
+Any interpretations of songs are just my own thoughts.
+Hope you enjoy. :)

The cool breeze of a dark night rustles through the leaves and through the notebook in my lap, causing me to tense a little bit. I wouldn't complain, though. It's usually unbearably hot here and I'm always sweating. Most people probably would have resigned to a closet full of shorts, but I can't seem to stray away from dark jeans and dark jackets. I feel safer in them. Tougher. Less exposed.

I zip my sweatshirt up and tuck my knees to my chest, tapping my pen against the notebook. There's words in my head, but they won't come through the ink like normal. That's why I came out here anyway, besides the nice sensation of grass beneath me and the night sky above me. Sure, there's a lot of sketchiness around, and I can smell something weird and probably illegal at the edges of our property, but it clears my head. I feel like I can think out here. The feeling in my head is something like regret. A lot of it. If I want to write it out, I'll probably have to figure out what exactly I'm regretting, but it sort of feels like everything.

I did something wrong. I did a lot of things wrong. I messed things up. I messed people up. I messed up with a lot of people. People I like. People I love. All of them. I've messed up with everything.

I slowly start writing lyrics on a blank page as I think back to when I was young.

I'm sorry I wasn't nice to my brothers when I was a kid.

That's a good start. I always fought for attention and love and anything else I felt like I never had enough of. I should've been less selfish. Then maybe I could have gotten along with them better. Maybe I'd still get along with all of them now. I'm sorry.

And I'm sorry I didn't respect my parents enough. I'm sorry I argued with them over and over and over again when I was a teenager for the stupidest little things because I was hurt and lonely and frustrated and-

No. You were stupid. But you're sorry for it, right?

I'm sorry I treated my girlfriend like shit when I was seventeen because I didn't have the heart to care. I couldn't feel anything, I couldn't love her. I couldn't even like her. Or anyone for that matter. And that was wrong because your girlfriend or wife should always be the most important...right? Your number one. Always.

So I guess I'm sorry that I left my wife with an infant to tour around the world with my band...

I wince. I'm forever stuck between feeling suffocated and withdrawn at home and feeling like the worst father and husband ever on the road. God, that should be a no-brainer, I'm sorryimsorry ims orryi'msor ryimso rry

Taking a deep breath to will the panic away, I turn back to my notebook and eventually ditch it because I need to verbally get this out of me. I sing it into my phone, the awkwardness of guilt feeling like dead weight on my shoulders.

It's only once I finish it and send it to Wayne on auto-pilot that I realize that this is the reason why I have to be sorry for all of this shit.

Music.

It's all because I chose to do music.

Is it really worth it?

My phone rings, interrupting that terrifying thought.