30

1.1K 73 14
                                    

waking up.

something digs into his back; an elbow or a knee or a rock or a bottle. 

josh's eyes burn when he opens them, and his ears ring slightly. there's a tingling in his nose, a throbbing in his head.

the thing against his back shifts— an elbow, then, and the owner of that elbow sits up and stretches it in a yawn.

morning, josh says, with a voice more wrecked than tyler's after a week straight of shows.

morning, says tyler. look where we ended up.

josh looks around. a bed. tyler next to him. something clouding his head. his pants are gone.

ty, he says, and tyler looks at him. what did we do?

i don't know, tyler admits, but i think it must've been really fun.

josh rubs his nose and his hand comes away flecked with dried blood. i think i had a nose bleed, he says, and tyler quirks his eyebrows.

sure did.

faded, faded memories swim in his head— a glimpse of a mirror, of powder, of people, blurry and shimmering and so, so loud...

tyler, josh says, and looks at him. what did i do?

what do you mean? tyler asks, shaking his head in confusion. you went to a party.

a party. a party. a party.

last year, he wouldn't have dreamed of it.

a party—

with people—

is he even himself anymore? is he even josh?

who is josh? 

josh dun? is that the real him? 

which one?

the shy boy, fainting on stage and throwing up before concerts, losing weight on tour from the anxiety—

the party boy, drinking and snorting up white lines like an expert, fading away into the sea of strangers every night—

who is he?

tyler, he says again, and he's panicking now, really panicking, he doesn't know who he is.

and what makes him think that tyler does? tyler doesn't even know himself. tyler lost himself a long, long time ago.

it's obvious by now.

did josh? is he gone now too, just a shell of himself, a vapid empty personality put on to stay afloat in the media?

...is that who tyler is? is he really josh's friend? were those kisses calculated or meaningful?

josh doubles over, one hand on his forehead. there's a splitting headache in his brain, and his crisis isn't helping any.

you okay? tyler asks, alarmed, but is he actually worried, or is he just faking?

really, really, is there anyone out there who's truly themselves?

a/n: let's play catch that reference...... 

demons » joshlerWhere stories live. Discover now