dichotomy ; gawsten

thirty

"Cancel the tour entirely? Are you serious?"

"It's been booked for months guys, people already have tickets..."

"Give them refunds," Jawn mutters. "He can't play like this."

"You still have three weeks off." The man's voice is loud. He can't look up. He doesn't even know who is speaking. The guy is on their management team and he doesn't even know his name. "Isn't that enough time for him to get himself together?"

"He slit his wrists so bad he needed a fuckin' transfusion!" Jawn snaps. "He can't "get himself together"" He pauses, lifting his hands to make the air quotes. "He needs to rest and recovery and find a good fuckin' therapist to help him deal with his anxiety!"

"He's seemed fine until now."

"If having a panic attack after every show is "fine", then yeah, sure, he's been fine," Jawn shoots back. He pauses and lets out a breath. "He can't do this. Please, don't make him do it. He's barely hanging on. He's been pushed over the edge already. He won't come back next time."

His heart is racing. He can't look up he knows it's all gonna be moving everything's moving the table is blurry it's fading in and out the edges of his vision are starting to go fuzzy it's pumping through his veins it's not blood it's anxiety it's everywhere every time it dies down it comes back it keeps coming back why does this keep happening to him why can't he be normal why is he such a fucking freak why can't he go to a simple meeting without having a panic attack why is he like this why is he like this why is he fucking like this-

"Breathe." He feels it. There's something crawling up his arms there's a bug it's light it's going up farther and farther what the fuck is happening aren't they inside. He bites down on his lip and picks his head up the slightest bit, turns and watches as Awsten continues walking his fingers all the way up his arm. He doesn't understand why until Awsten reaches his shoulder and scoots to the edge of his chair so his hand can reach his back. "You're okay, I promise."

"Geoff?"

There's the anxiety again moremoremore it's so much it's everywhere fuckfuckfuck I can't breathe why are you doing this to me I'm not okay nothing is okay leave me alone don't talk to me don't look at me pleaspleaseplease. "Y-Yeah?"

"Why did you try to kill yourself?"

"Again."

"W-What?"

Are they serious what the fuck how is he supposed to answer that they don't know about Chloe they don't know anything they don't know how is he supposed to tell them they're gonna be so mad at him they're gonna yell please no nonono leave me alone stop I'm sorry I'm sorry I couldn't do it anymore I wish it worked I don't want to be here I don't want to do this I can't do this please stop pleasepleaseplease.

Someone says something he doesn't hear it he can't hear anything he can't see anything it's all moving everything's moving hot too hot red hot cold hot cold it's moving everything is spinning it hurts so bad his chest hurts everything hurts stop please stop how do I make it stop I want it to stop please stop.

It stops.

And so does he.

...

Everything feels heavy.

His eyelids weigh a thousand pounds. His head feels like a rock when he lifts it. He flops down to the mattress mere seconds later, breathing out heavily. Turning to the side, he sees Awsten's hip. He's sitting up against the headboard, flicking at his phone screen. "W-Wha...'appened..."

Awsten looks over at him. Geoff closes his eyes and inhales, feelings Awsten's fingers graze through his hair, rub at his scalp. He hums. "You had a really bad panic attack and passed out. Otto had to carry you outta there."

"The meeting," he gasps out the words. It's like his chest had finally put itself back together, collected all the fragments and fit them like puzzle pieces, dulled the jagged edges so it doesn't cut every time he breathes, and then one hit with a sledgehammer tears everything apart.

He pulls himself up to sit next to Awsten. It's groggy but everything is moving, like he chugged NyQuil and Red Bull at the same time. Fast and slow fast and slow fast and slow.

"Hey. Take a breath. You're fine, everything's fine, okay?" Awsten grips his shoulders and he tries to focus on him. Awsten won't see it either way but everything is moving so fast he needs to focus why can't his eyes work why can't one part of his body do what it's fucking supposed to why is he like this why-

"The meeting," he repeats. "They, I, what-"

"It's okay," Awsten says. "Otto brought you outta there but Jawn stayed to yell at them some more. We just got back here like, ten minutes ago. He hasn't said anything yet. I'll tell you when he does."

"They're so mad at me," he chokes out. It's exhaustion it's anxiety it's nausea it's everything, wrapped into one bomb of a package and tied with a neat little venomous bow. There's so much it's everywhere he doesn't know what to do it won't stop he needs it to stop warmwarmwarm why isn't it stopping it's not stopping he's not warm why isn't he warm pleasepleaseplease.

"Geoff-"

He moves closer to Awsten, presses their bodies together, rests his head on Awsten's shoulder, shoves an arm between the headboard and Awsten's back, tries to inhale. It feels like a rhino is sitting on his chest it's not warm he's not warm nothing is warm it's not working why isn't it working.

Warmwarmwarm please I need it it hurts I need it I need it I need it.

He turns his head and puts a shaky hand on Awsten's shoulder.

And then, in one moment, nosecondthoughtshutupstopitwarmwarmwarm, he leans in, and kisses him.

told ya i like to do Big Things on nice numbered chapters