Nothing Exists but the Dream

He sat, alone, in the green room; costumes that no longer had any meaning to him and riders that had been written only to please his bandmates lay scattered about him. He drew his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms tenderly around his legs; his long hair fell, distorting his view. He sighed, frowned; knowing he should be out there at the meet and greet or supporting his bandmates at an interview. He just couldn't bring himself to do it - not today, not for a long while. He leant back on the couch, stared up at the white ceiling; the colour felt empty, when people said black hole or black heart,he couldn't appreciate it. But if someone had said white hole or white heart he would know exactly how they felt. He felt white on the inside.

His stomach groaned loudly, reminding him of its existence; his ears didn't feel like listening today, not to such meger whims as hunger anyway. He let his legs drop to the floor, he rolled foward; staring around the room. He stumbled aimlessly to his feet, dragging them along as he went as if they were an uneeded appendage. He circled the room once, twice; his feet connected with something. He fell face first into the carpet, hands not even attempting to come out and save him. He rolled onto his back, staring at the empty ceiling once more; he didn't react at all, the fall was just another step. He moved his leg, something crashed loudly to the floor. He turned his head to the left, spotting a phone lying upside down; the cord wrapped around his leg. He sat up, reached out; drew the contraption closer.He stared at the reciever momentarily as if he had never seen one before, his heart began to race. A shaky hand reached out, caressed the keypad - dialed a familiar number; he brought it to his ear.

"Hello?" her voice came, her sweet voice; the voice that tormented him every night. He choked, his heart fluttered, skipping a beat. "Hello?" it came again, sending waves of pure ectasy through him.

"Ava," he whispered; he had never felt a syllable contain so much passion.

"Joey, do you know what time it is?" she asked, there was no anger in her voice though; he could never make her feel that way.

"I'm sorry, I didn't look at the time," he apologised quietly, she laughed lightly; a tingling sensation began to course through him.

"It's ok, you know if I had my way you'd never be off the phone," she replied. He felt his face sinking, his eyes began to sting; he knew she had said that before.

"I love you," he said quickly, it came from nowhere but he had the urge to get it out; just to make sure it was known.

"Well I hope you do, I'm not looking after this baby by myself you know," she joked; he could see her now, rubbing her potruding stomach gently. He sniffed, a tear ran down his cheek. "Are you ok?" she asked in concern, she could always read him inside out, even if they were in different worlds.

"I'm fine, I'm fine...do you have any names?" he asked, trying his best to contain the agony building up inside.

"Do you think you want to know?" she asked somberly. His head shook no, but his mouth answered yes. "Well...I was thinking Lailah, it means angel of night; she would be our little angel and night reminds me so much of you." This time he couldn't contain it, he broke down completly; his whole body heaved, the pain was almost unbearable. Lailah, Lailah; my Lailah. "I'm sorry Joey, I'm so sorry," she whispered, sadened. He shook his head repeatedly; no this was not her fault, he never blamed her; he never would. The blame was all on him.

"I miss you so much," he wept, his grip tightened; knuckles going white.

"I miss you too, but you know I'm always here," she replied; he knew that was true, he knew she wouldn't leave him; he wouldn't leave her. Ever. He had vowed.

"I love you," he repeated, more urgently this time; he needed her to know - to understand. He needed to hear her say it back, just once; just to ease the hovering white. There was silence on the other end, seconds seemed to expand around him; he found it hard to breathe; oxygen disaperated. He rolled onto his side, withering; the phone still held tightly in his grasp - no sound from the other end. "Tell me you love me!" he cried out, salty tears ran over his lips; he could taste them on the tip of his tongue.

The door opened before him, in strode his bandmate, his best friend. Corey froze on the spot, staring down at the crumpled form of Joey; the broken withering wreck of a man. The door shut behind him, he crept foward slowly, bending down; unoticed by the drummer. He placed a hand on his shoulder rubbing it gently.

"Joey," he said quietly, but there was no response - there hadn't been much for weeks. He tried to pry the phone out his grasp to no avail; he sighed, turning he saw the cord wrapped around Joey's ankles. Reaching out, he unwrapped it - all of it. The end hung limply in his finger tips. He turned back to his friend, clenching the cord sadly. "Were you talking to her?" he whispered knowingly; Joey did not move, he did not blink - the tears just kept pouring down."Joey...she's gone Joey, they both are; you have to move on," he said. But Joey did not respond, he could not comprehend; she wasn't gone, she would always be here with him. Corey sighed and grabbed the phone more forecfully this time, tugging at it; knowing that it was the only way to help him.

Joey went ridgid suddenly; eyes wide, mouth open. As the phone was pulled out of his grasp he heard her whisper.

"We both love you."