After another exhausting day of tour life; after working their way through another after-party, the band plus Anthony jumped into the van and headed back to their hotel that Green Day's management team had gotten them for the night.
They were all so tired from the long day that only a couple small exchange of words occurred during the short trip back. One of which was Dougie complaining about how the three shot espresso he drank before the show didn't help him very much, to which Anthony told him not to be so sure about that.
"I can't wait to get in the shower," Freddie sighed moments after the coffee conversation took place.
"Same," said Ollie sitting in the seat behind him.
"I might pass out as soon as we get there," Payton muttered. "Today was kind of a lot."
"I know right?" Dougie agreed. "That coffee I had was nothing compared to all we did today. I'm definitely going to just sleep then shower in the morning."
"Man..." Anthony tsked from behind the wheel. "I'm falling asleep already!"
Everyone shared a tired laugh even though Anthony may or may not have been lying.
A few hours later, at the dark and early time of 3-am, an hour and a half after he and Payton settled down for the night, Dougie was awake and staring at the ceiling. As soon as his head hit the pillow that night, Dougie quickly realized that he really was not as tired as he thought he was in the van. It was around an hour of anxious tossing and turning in frustration until he put on his headphones and accepted he wouldn't be sleeping for a while longer.
By 3-am, Dougie had been dozing off for some time while the music in his ears shifted into the back of his mind. He blinked after a few minutes, realizing that finally the caffeine seemed to be wearing off. As he paused his music, Dougie yawned and slid his headphones off of his ears to set them aside on his nightstand. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.
Then they shot open again.
From Payton's side of the bed it sounded like he was... at this late? Seriously?
Dougie lifted his head and squinted at the shadow across the room. He quickly realized something else was going on here.
"Payton?" Dougie croaked in a low voice. Apparently he wasn't loud enough over the quick panting so he tried again, sitting up and speaking clearly. "Hey, Payton!"
The whimpering stopped and his head flew off the pillow. "Huh?" Payton asked warily. He seemed to realize what was happening right away, and he sighed and pressed his palms against his face, lowering his head back onto the bed. "I'm sorry, Doug," he whispered.
Dougie sat on his elbow as his stomach sunk. "It's okay. I was already awake 'cause of the caffeine," he mumbled uneasily.
He listened to Payton release a shaking breath until it hitched. "I was doing so good."
Dougie frowned as something painful streaked down the inside chest.
"I'm sorry," Payton said quietly.
"Don't be sorry," Dougie responded, apprehensively shoving his legs out of the tightly tucked hotel bed sheets. "I mean— it's not your fault."
As he heard Payton struggle to contain himself, Dougie remembered when his older sister Hallie would get terrible nightmares when she was in her teens. That was back in San Francisco when their rooms neighbored eachother's, so Dougie would be the one to hear her if she managed to wake up crying or gasping for air. This sense of familiarity gave Dougie a certain drive to get moving and help out.
First, he reached over and turned on his bedside lamp which gently illuminated the two beds, then he crawled out of his blankets and knelt beside Payton where he lied with his hands covering his face in shame.
"Hey, it's okay," Dougie told him, slowly rising to his feet. "I'm gonna sit next to you, okay? Can I?"
"Yeah," came a choked out response.
So, as Payton tucked in his legs and scooted towards the other side of the bed, Dougie climbed into his spot and sat beside him. He looked over at his friend, who Dougie could tell was straining to keep himself from releasing a stream of tears.
"Wanna talk about it?" Dougie asked in a hushed voice.
Payton looked away. "No."
Dougie frowned, feeling at a loss for a moment until he remembered a certain drunk text he got from Payton a few months back. Holding his breath, he twisted his body and brought Payton's quivering frame in a secure embrace.
Although he wasn't rejecting the hug, Payton continued to blearily stare down the opposite wall. "I was doing so good," he whispered.
"It's not your fault," Dougie replied, tightenting his hold on the man.
He cried then, body shaking out the tears he had tried so hard to stop from falling, quietly in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeated between breaths.
"Stop apologizing," the demand was soft, with a sense of understanding to it. "Do what you need to do. I'm here, and I'll help you do whatever you have to do."
After a minute, Payton rested his head against the headboard and cursed, then again louder. Concerned, Dougie leaned away to see his face.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I need a drink," he admitted breathlessly, wrapping a stiff hand behind his head.
"Don't do it," Dougie said right away, sitting up straighter. "You've been working so hard."
"I know— I know!" Payton's voice had risen suddenly, which surprised Dougie. "I'm sorry," he sighed, letting his head hang. "You know that's a lot easier said than done."
"I know," Dougie muttered, feeling a bit guilty. "I just— I don't know. I remember how badly you wanted to quit, and how we'd promised to help you out..."
Payton jaw clenched as his eyes dared to cry again. He glanced at him. "I know, Doug. I know you're trying to help, but for the past couple of months I feel like I've been holding on by the tip of my fingers," he murmured. "It's hard."
An urge to say something cliche rose in Dougie's throat but he forced it back and remained quiet. Payton didn't need nor want to hear something cliche. In a nervous habit, Dougie drummed his fingers against his knees as he thought of something to do or say.
There were a few long moments of finger-drumming and anxious breaths before Payton announced, "I'm going for a walk."
Dougie leaped out of bed, feeling a sudden rush throughout his body. "I'm going with you," he stated.
"Don't," Payton demanded, taking his jean jacket from his suitcase and throwing his arms into it.
"Why not?" Dougie insisted, narrowing his gaze at him. "I'll shut up. You won't even know I'm there."
"Go to sleep," Payton suggested, clear irritation coating his words. "Okay? I'm gonna feel bad if you can barely stay awake tomorrow. Plus, I know you get sick if you don't sleep enough during the night." He almost sounded genuine, but Dougie didn't care.
He paced forward, standing firmly between Payton's path to the hotel room door. "You think I'm as stupid as you are?" Dougie asked.
"Please move," Payton said calmly.
Dougie stared down at him. "Let me come with you," he said.
"Dougie, please," he sounded anxious and desperate.
With a glare, he stepped aside and watched as Payton opened the door. "I'll be back soon, alright? Please, I beg of you, try to go back to sleep."
As soon as the door shut behind him, Dougie raced to his suitcase and threw a random hoodie over his head, then snatched his phone off the nightstand and slipped into his Vans before running out the door. As he winded his hair into a loose half bun, Dougie sped down the hall and slowed to meet Payton's pace.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Dougie shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. "I thought I should cut the arguing short and just follow you out without saying so," he answered casually.
"You need to sleep," Payton said.
"Yeah. I'm so tired, dude," Dougie groaned. "Let's go back to the hotel room."
Payton stopped walking and turned to face him. "If we go back to the room, will you go to sleep?"
"Only if you do first," Dougie replied.
He scoffed and began walking further down the hall. "Why do you care so much as to where I'm going? I won't go very far, I swear."
"Do you swear you're not going to the bar the next street over?" Dougie asked.
"Dougie," said Payton, opening the door to the stairwell. "You are a pain in the ass."
Without another word, Dougie went down the flight of stairs and into the hotel lobby where Payton turned around and this time, gave him a forlorn expression.
"Doug, please, man. I need some time for myself," he said softly. "Twenty minutes, and I'll be back. I promise."
"Okay, wait a second," Dougie said, carefully grabbing into his arm and taking a step away from the lobby's entry doors. "I just need to do one thing. Come with me."
His patience on a thread, Payton reluctantly followed Dougie into the lounge where he was urged to sit down on a short couch with a small shove of his shoulders. Dougie took a seat next to him, then turned to his side and lowered the back of his head onto Payton's lap.
"Okay," Dougie said to the peeved guitarist. He pulled out his phone and opened his notes app. "Impromptu song-writing: I'll write the first line."
"Dougie."
"Hmm, mhm," he hummed from underneath Payton's chin.
"Dougie, please."
"Okay, I have it," Dougie announced, squirming a little on top of his legs. He read a lyric from his phone. "Nightfall comes, and I find that my brain is numb."
Payton's head fell back as he closed his eyes in defeat.
"Add on to it," Dougie encouraged, holding his phone in the air.
In silence, Payton released a sigh and grabbed onto his phone. As he waited, Dougie made up a drumbeat, softly tapping his hands on his stomach until Payton handed the phone back to him. Excitedly, Dougie read the lyrics:
Where's the cure? I'm not sure , but I know if I sleep I'll wake up once again pumped with adrenaline.
Dougie began to type, humming to himself for awhile before giving his phone back to Payton.
Apathy, when the world is up against me. I see you in the dark, 'cause I'm haunted by the same old scars. Oh, can't you see? I'm made of broken parts.
"Damn," he whispered.
Dougie chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get dark," he apologized.
"Nononono," Payton said instantly. "No," he repeated, gazing over the notes again. "This is good. I just didn't know you could write something like... like that."
Dougie shrugged. "Maybe that's what lack of sleep does to a person."
Payton began to write another lyric. A moment of humming broken melodies later, Dougie got his phone back.
Can you ease my mind? Opened up and desensitized. Fight for your right, and pave your way around my subtle lies.
Dougie gave an introspective nod as held his phone above his eyes. Not even twenty seconds later, Payton was reading the next lyric.
I see you wandering down the drive thru. Curly fries, pulled aside, Vanilla shakes makes me ache deep inside.
Payton grimaced, looking down at the drummer gazing up at him in his lap. "Are you messing with me? What is this?"
"I think I'm only good for one good line at a time," Dougie said.
"Yeah, right," Payton scoffed, handing his phone back to him. "Think harder. I wanna keep going."
When he got his phone back, Dougie held the device close to his face so he could hide his wide mischievous smile.
Success!
The two of them had written until their eyes could no longer stay open for more than a second at a time. They had mentioned going back to their room before, but they both soon agreed that for now it was a safer bet to be in a different environment to get the creative juices flowing. Until they simultaneously drifted off without realizing it...
Apparently the lady at the front desk didn't mind that they had fallen asleep on the couch because at around seven AM, two hours after they had fallen asleep, Anthony was gently tapping Dougie on the shoulder to arouse him from his slumber.
Disoriented and feeling like mud, Dougie lifted his head off of Payton's head and squinted at the people standing around them with amused expressions on their faces.
"Good morning you night owls," Ollie greeted in a quiet voice.
Way too sleepy to reply, Dougie released a long moan and leaned his body away from Payton's, who was lifting his head from the drummer's arm and also blinking out of heavy sleep.
"How'd you sleep?" asked Freddie, standing beside Ollie with a silly smirk on his face.
"My neck's gonna be sore all day," Payton muttered, followed by a wide yawn.
"Mhm," Anthony acknowledged with a brief laugh. "I hope Green Day's management doesn't find out you didn't even use your hotel room last night."
Payton just grunted and turned his head to look at Dougie who was curled up on his side of the couch, trying to muster some more shut eye before Ollie began tugging on his arm.
"Get up, Dougie," Ollie commanded, carefully pulling on the drummer's limp wrist. He was grinning down at him. "Don't you wanna eat before we get out of here?"
Dougie responded with a whining, low moan, eyes half-closed as his body was ripped from the comfort of the hotel lobby couch. "No. I'm gonna go back to sleep," he grumbled.
"You might as well start packing then, and maybe hop in the shower too," Anthony suggested. "We're out of here in about an hour."
"What, why?" Payton asked. "We have a whole day to get to New Mexico, don't we?"
"There was a problem with hotel bookings," Anthony explained. "Apparently if we don't check in by five o'clock today then we'll have to find our own place to stay."
"That's weird," said Payton, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
"So what were you guys even doing down here anyway?" Freddie finally asked.
"Just writing a song," Dougie murmured.
Payton rubbed an eye with his fingers. "Yeah, we needed to go for a walk and we just ended up writing for a while." He glanced at Dougie who was groggily but intently watching him speak. "Guess we fell asleep without realizing it."
"Mmhgfffm...." Dougie grumbled as he bent his body in a gnarly stretch. "I'm too tired to shower. M'gonna go back to sleep until we have to leave."
Freddie gave an exasperated breath. "Geez. I know Doug's usually sleepy in the mornings, but not like this. How much sleep did you guys even get?" he questioned.
"I probably got around four or five hours," Payton muttered as his face dropped in sudden guilt. "He might have slept for two hours total."
"Dang, guys," Ollie said, surprise and confusion very present on his face. "What exactly happened last night? I'm almost a little offended I wasn't invited to the no-sleep party."
Payton took a breath, as if attempting to expel the sleepy fog from his brain. "I'll explain it over breakfast." He looked down at his feet where their drummer had collapsed off the couch and onto the carpeted floor. "You coming, Doug?"
"Can't... keep my eyes open..." he breathed out, struggling to push himself upright. "M'going back to the room. Can I use your key?" he asked Payton.
With a mini-smirk, Payton fished the card from his sweatpant pocket and handed it to him. "Let me in later, okay?"
"Mhm." Dougie nodded, hardly comprehending what was being said to him. "See ya."
Half an hour later, Dougie was sprawled out underneath the blankets atop his bed in a half-asleep state when the sound of knocking crept into his hazey daydreams. Strongly willing himself to get out of the soft bed, Dougie peeled off his blankets and trudged over to the door to open it.
"Shit. You were sleeping, weren't you?" Payton asked when seeing his face. "I shoulda waited a while before coming back. I'm sorry."
"Don't say sorry," Dougie replied before going into a yawn. "Gotta get ready anyway. No big deal."
Payton gave an uncertain hum before entering the hotel room. Dougie closed the door and followed him, body gradually waking up along the way.
"Why the sad look? I thought we had fun last night," Dougie said.
Payton turned around looking irritated at first, then relenting. "I'm not sad, Doug. I just feel terrible for keeping you up."
"Would you have rather gone out and let me sleep?" Dougie asked.
"I don't know..."
"The answer is no," Dougie told him. "Stop feeling guilty, man. It was my idea to stay up with you, and I don't regret it at all. I actually did have a lot more fun than I thought I would," he said with a shrug.
Payton smiled softly and gave a huffing laugh. "It was fun. I'm glad it happened," he said a bit bashfully.
"Me too," said Dougie, also smiling through his tired expression. "I can sleep some more in the van. I'll be okay."
Payton nodded, face gone more serious and sincere. "Thank you, Dougie. I really appreciate your help," he said to him. "You definitely can stand your ground when it comes to someone like me..."
"I was close to giving in," Dougie admitted, "but then I had the songwriting idea and I really wanted to do it. We should do it again some time."
"Yeah, though hopefully not for the same reason we did last night," Payton said, rubbing his arm with an awkward cringe.
"Hopefully not," Dougie agreed, punching out his fists as he felt the urge to stretch. His hand ended up finding Payton's shoulder, and he let it stay there. "But if so, and I'm not around, text me: 'Let's write a song,' and I would be more than happy to."
Payton shook his head with a disbelieving smile. "I don't deserve that kind of kindness," he mumbled, partly to himself.
"Well, whether you deserve it or not I'm not sure..." Dougie teased with a smirk before getting serious. "But you're my friend, so I'm gonna treat you like one, okay? You can't stop me."
Cursing into his breath, Payton looked away and covered his face with a hand. Dougie, feeling only a tiny bit bad for making him emotional, brought him into a hug.
"You're a good friend, Doug," Payton muttered within the embrace. "I feel like I never give you enough credit for that."
"It's fine," Dougie said, squeezing him a little. "I know all your little quips and teases are in good spirit."
Payton laughed, then Dougie laughed. Everything was going to be alright.