I Won't Give Up On You

The flat reeked of alcohol, the famous Oliver Sykes was drinking on the couch. Normally, he'd be with his family or friends, but recent, unfortunate events have separated him from them. It all started back when Bring Me the Horizon started touring constantly. Well, really it started directly after high school. Things had been bad, but Oliver was through with the comments and insults about his weight and hair. He'd been called trash all through high school. Being in the band was good for him, he let all of his anger out by screaming his own lyrics. It proved to be harmful though, the screaming. He'd been doing it wrong the whole time and came very close to never being able to talk again. But after he changed the way he screamed, and after he'd lost weight he still wasn't content with himself. Half way through the Americas tour, he'd totally lost himself.

* * *

"Oliver are you ready?" Matt asked, warming up by drumming the air with fake drumsticks.
Oliver looked up from his hands, shrugging, "As ready as I'll ever be I suppose," he said quietly, taking a long drink from his water. Lately, his throat had been failing him. Weak screams escaped his lips during a show. He'd grown tired, almost too tired to preform. It wasn't physically tired just mentally. The demand had been wearing on him for a while now, and he was finally reaching a breaking point. After pulling himself together, he stood up with Matt, ready to face the crowd. He didn't want to be the weak one, the one to admit that he needed a day off. So the shows went on, and he went on getting thinner and thinner.

Out on stage, Oliver held the mic in shaky hands, "Hello Everybody, we're Bring Me the Horizon." He introduced them, pulling his fake smile out and putting it on. They started through their set, playing through each song. To escape having to strain his voice he let the crowd sing some of the parts he had trouble with. During Diamonds Aren't Forever, Oli saw a girl smoking a cigarette and reached for it. She handed it to him with a shocked look on her face, probably thinking; Oh my god, Oli Sykes just smoked my cigarette! But Oliver did it for himself, not to make a girl wet her pants. He took in a long drag and breathed it out, then continued on with the song. By the end of the set list Oliver was exhausted. He didn't stop to sign autographs, just returned to the bus to shower and sleep. After his shower, he looked at himself in the mirror, seeing a totally different person. This life had transformed him. Maybe it was what he'd always wanted, but not like this.

In the mirror he saw all his imperfections. He wasn't skinny enough for himself, yet his jeans didn't even fit him anymore. Even the tight ones loosely clung to his tiny frame. His eyes weren't alive like they use to be. Now just dull brownish green hues looking back at him. He was tired, and the bags that hung from his eyes showed it. He was never satisfied with himself, and the cuts were there to prove it.

Lately, Oliver found himself starting a new bad habit. As if smoking, drinking, and popping pills wasn't enough, something new had captivated him. He started to cut. Small at first, but then the hobby progressed. He wasn't like everybody else. He didn't cut to feel or anything like that, it was sheer accomplishment. He felt that if he cut deeper and deeper, he was more accomplished; proud of himself. He was messed up but couldn't pull himself out. Feeling accomplished with what he'd done to himself, he left the bus bathroom and laid down. He knew his new obsession wasn't going anywhere good, but at least it was keeping him sane. He passed out on his bunk before everyone got back to the bus.

Truth was, no one really knew about Oliver and his fiends. Sure, the smoking and drinking. But pills and cutting? They were strictly confidential, but Matt was catching on, slowly while Tom had been growing farther apart from Oli. He'd been seeing how weak he was, and it was hurting him how Oliver never came to him for help. Growing tired of waiting, he'd given up on him all together.

Matt entered the bus after a long night, wasted. He looked down at Oliver in his bunk, wondering why he didn't join them to get drunk as well. He shrugged it off and turned away to shower but something caught his attention. Oliver was wearing basketball shorts, and a tank top; bad choice. His cuts were exposed, hanging out from the blanket he was underneath. Matt thought he was hallucinating at first, but then realized he wasn't. Deep cuts carved down by Oli's ankles, and three slices in the only non-tattooed area of his arm.

Feeling overwhelmed, Matt sat down on the couch in the lounge. His world was spinning around him. How could he not have known? Clutching his head in his hands, he knew he had to do something. Expose Oliver's secret? Maybe, only if he refused to drop the habit. "I won't give up on you," he said quietly, looking towards Oli's bunk. Tomorrow morning, he'd confront him and hope for the best.