Therapy

“Finally!” You whisper to your best friend as Flyzik ushers you and the rest of the line into the meet and greet room. You two had been waiting outside the venue for an hour, watching your breath fog the air in front of you while you hummed your favorite songs in a fruitless attempt to calm the overwhelming excitement you felt at meeting All Time Low for the first time. Clutching your Don’t Panic CD cases tightly, the two of you follow the mob into the room. You want to talk to Alex first, but your friend has an obsession with Rian, and drags you over to take photos and get your CDs signed. After Rian, you say hi to Zack before finally ending up by Jack with a group of about twenty other girls. He entertains the crowd happily, making dick jokes to his heart’s content and taking funny pictures of himself with various cameras handed to him by the fans. You laugh and talk with everyone else before finally realizing that the group that had surrounded Alex for the last fifteen minutes had moved on. Grabbing your friend’s arm, you pull her towards him.

“Hey,” He greets you with a nod and a smile.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” you tell him, not even bothering with a hello for fear that you will lose your nerve before you get the words out. “I went through a really hard time a while ago, and and I almost didn’t make it out, but you guys helped me through it. Without your music, I might not…. Be around today. So, um, thanks,” you finish weakly.

Alex grabs your shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes, “I am so, so glad that you’re here tonight,” he says, so serious that you know he’s telling the truth. Then, to your surprise, he pulls you into a hug. His arms are safe and warm; it’s as if he is trying to protect you from all the evil the world has to offer.

“Stay strong,” he whispers in your ear, and then pulls away, “What’s your name?” he asks suddenly.

“Oh, um, y/n,” you reply, startled.

“Y/n, may I sign that CD you’re holding?” You look down at your hand in surprise- you’ve forgotten about that completely.

“Please,” you say, handing it to him. He uncaps a sharpie and begins to scribble something on the
back of the back of the case.

“Hey, y/n, do you have a favorite song by us?” He inquires casually as he continues to write.

“Yeah, I really love the acoustic version of Therapy you did for Straight to DVD,” you tell him, “It’s actually my favorite song of all time.”

He hands the CD back to you and smiles.

“Perfect,” he says.

Just then, Flyzik calls out that it’s time for the guys to go, and will everybody please leave them alone and seriously, stop trying to take Zack’s shirt off. Alex pulls you to his side quickly so your friend, who has been hovering nearby, can snap a picture of the two of you.

“Well, I gotta go,” he says. “Stick around for the show, y/n!”

And then, with a wink and a chuckle, he’s gone.

The first half of the concert is a blur. You fought your way to the barricade when the show began, clinging to it for dear life through the three opening bands. Finally, All Time Low comes on. The first part of their set is fairly ordinary. Amazing, of course, but nothing particularly special.

“Somewhere in Neverland, oh, somewhere in Neverland, Somewhere in Neverland,” Alex sings, clutching the microphone, before letting it go and stepping back with a smile as the crowd cheers wildly. Then, to your surprise, Colussy steps up and hands him an acoustic guitar. He slips he strap over his neck and steps back up to the mic stand.

“Hey, guys! Listen up!” He says, but the crowd is screaming too loudly to hear him.

“Guys! Hey!”

Still no response.

“EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Finally, the cheers subside into laughter and then to silence, “So we had a meet and greet today, right?” Alex says. More yelling, “And I met some pretty cool people. But there was one girl that really stood out to me tonight. First off, she comes up to me, and she doesn’t even say hello. Instead, she tells me straight up: “Thank you”. No hello, just straight up. And then she tells me that this band helped her through a hard time a while back,” he continues, “The crazy thing is, people tell us stories like that all the time, and every time, it kills me to know that these fucking amazing people are in so much pain. But you know what? When someone tells me that we helped them out, or saved their life, or even just made them smile, that’s the best feeling in the world. You guys are all so fucking beautiful. And to everybody that feels like nobody cares about them, like they aren’t wanted: someday, I want to meet every single person here tonight, because every one of you is different. There’s nobody else who is the same kind of beautiful as you. So don’t even think about taking yourself away from me, because then I’ll never get to see your kind of beautiful.” Half of the crowd is cheering, half is crying, but Alex goes on, “So remember what I said about that girl I met tonight? She happened to mention that her favorite song is Therapy. So, y/n, this one’s for you. Stay beautiful, stay strong, I love you.”

You’ve been holding back the tears, but now you feel them slide down your cheeks as he strums the guitar to the opening lines of the song.

“My ship when down in a sea of sound,” he sings softly, “When I woke up alone, I had everything.”

Hearing this song, live, dedicated to you, means more to you than words could ever express. Tears continue to pour down your face as you watch Alex sing for you. Suddenly, you remember the CD he signed. You pull it out of your bag and squint at the writing on the back as the song goes on.

Y/n-

You are beautiful.
You are perfect.
You are one of a kind.
Never, ever give up.
I promise, you are worth the fight.

Love, Alexander William Gaskarth
XOXO

“Therapy, you were never a friend to me,” Alex sings. “And you can choke on your misery.” As he sings the last line, you look up at him and find him gazing directly back at you, and as he gives you the slightest smile, you see the tears streaming down his face, leaving traces of his soul behind to match your own.