The Boy From The Interview [Josh Dun]

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Should I go?

I mean, it could be fun. Couldn't it?

My blinder for a brain was mashing up all these thoughts into one unreadable mush. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I should go, I don't know if I want to see him again.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard my ringtone. Why am I always being interrupted by this thing? Looking at the screen, I read 'Joethedestroyer'. Now what does he want?

"What?!" I screeched into my phone, I may have sounded aggressive but this was not my day. In the background I could hear a chuckle coming from Joe.

"What got stuck up your butt?" Joe said, amusingly. This guy definitely knew how to piss me off.

"Joe, it's just I don't know what I should do! Should I go tonight?" I asked needing an answer to stop this madness.

"Well you're not going to leave me there alone are you?" He said amusingly.

"No..."

"Pick you up at 6pm. Bye babe." He hung up before I could revolt.

"Bye J." I spoke back into the white noise, defeated.

It was now 6 and Joe would be here any minute. As if on cue I could hear the bell ring. Time to do this. Opening the door, I ran into Joe.

"Hey!" I said happily.

"Hey." He said softly with a smirk. "Let's go before we are late." He began to playfully drag me to his rusty car, pushing me into the passenger seat while he runs to his door. As if by second nature he puts on the radio.

"That you all have guns, and you never put the safety on. And you all have plans, to take it, to take it, don't take it, take it, take it." The singer was singing with such authentic passion, I could feel my heart bounce to the beat, "I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep!"

"Who are these guys?" I yelled, while turning up the music. I could hear Joe start to laugh over my question as he bounced to the beat.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked confusingly.

"That, my friend, is twenty one pilots. The band that you interviewed today!" He laughed as he said these words. I could feel my cheeks redden. How could I be so ignorant?

We continued to listen to Joe's radio station, he told me that because twenty one pilots were playing tonight here, he promised to Tyler that he would play their songs all night.

Once we arrived at the venue, it was chaos. Fans were everywhere. If this venue was earth, they would be the sea and we would be the dust under their shoes. Everywhere fans wore red beanies, floral kimonos and red face paint.

Joe took me by the arm and led me away from the wave of testosterone into the back alley of the venue. Which, by the way, was only illuminated by one lamp pole. Where is he bringing me? A serial killer social?

"Where are you bringing me Joe?" I asked, like a stubborn child. He quickly hushed me.

"Josh told me to come to the back entrance so he could bring us in." Joe whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" I asked.

"So THEY don't hear and come rushing to meet him." Obviously I knew who he was referring too, the wave of testosterone back at the front of the venue. But THEY didn't seem crazy.

As we continued to move to the back entrance, I noticed a black door, riddled in old stickers and wet posters, open up like the gates of hell. And there Satan himself stood with red eyeshadow. Okay I was being a little bit dramatic, it was just Josh.