two am. eyes burning, throat aching, out of breath.
he's huddled on his bed, on a stupid hotel room bed, nearly rocking back and forth. the tears won't stop coming. when he cries too hard, he devolves into a coughing fit, and his throat is sore from it now. he gasps for breath, but watery sobs overtake him.
stupid. he's so, so, so stupid.
alone. there's no one there. tyler's in the room over, but he doesn't care. tyler only wants to make out with him. he doesn't care when josh cries.
useless. he is. there's really no point in him sticking around, cause he's really only a burden to everyone. how easy would it be to get a new drummer for the band? even one with dyed hair wouldn't be too hard.
worthless. the tears have made marks where they landed on the blanket. that's what he is, he's worthless and everyone hates him, they're just waiting for him to shut up and go away.
tyler only wants him to make out with him, and maybe have sex with him. cause jenna isn't enough. there isn't a single person in this world who cares what josh has to say. not one single one.
if he could form his thoughts into lyrics- they'd listen- that's what tyler does- but he can't.
he's stupid, remember?
this hotel room has a balcony, and he takes a deep breath to slow his sobs. yet his hands are still shaking when he goes to pull the door handle.
the night air is chill and he shivers. there's a chair on the balcony and he takes a seat, glancing out over the city.
what city? where are they? he doesn't know, he doesn't care, he's only here to play drums and make out with tyler. he's not here to think- except he's doing just that, and too much of it.
the balcony is so, so far off the ground. how hard could it be to jump... one foot on the railing, then another, and he probably wouldn't even be able to balance himself before he slips and... and falls...
stop it, stop it josh, don't think about that. don't think about it.
he's crying harder now, wondering if his sobs echo around the city.
even if they did, who would care to listen?