Will You Let Darkness Fall?

[Josh's Point of View]

“Dude, are you listening?” Mike asked, waving a hand in front of my face.
“What?” I blinked.
“Damn, what has your attention?” he laughed, reaching for the beer he had placed on the ground.
“Nothing.”
Vic had answered the door, revealing a gorgeous face.
His dark brown hair fell over his eyes, covering his soft features and shy smile. He was followed by another guy, who held a protective grip on the other.
After a moment, the second guy walked towards us with a smile perched on his lips. “Hey, I’m Matt Kean.” he introduced himself. “I’m Bring Me The Horizon’s bassist.”
“Josh.” I replied. “You Me’s front man.”
Matt sat down besides Jenna, giving me a clear view of the stranger and Vic, who was constantly looking at his lap.
“Jesus Cristo!” Mike muttered. “Alright, spill Franceschi. Who are you looking at, because you’re blushing like hell.”
“Him.”
Mike followed my gaze, landing on his brother and friend.
“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not making lovey eyes at my brother, because you’ve known him for years and never shown interest, so I’m going to assume you mean Oli.”
I nodded.
“Hey, Vic!” Mike called out, successfully attracting the attention of his older brother. “Come here for a sec!”
When Vic stood up, Mike sent me a smirk. “Go get ‘em.”
Flipping him off, I grabbed a plate with food for two and headed towards the silent front man.
“Hey.” I decided was the safest route.
He glanced up, barely muttering a sound. His eyes landed on the plate in my hands, staring at the contents in curiosity.
“Starches.” I shrugged, looking at what I had gotten and laughed. “The perfect balanced diet, you know?”
“Y-yeah.” he whispered.
“I’m Josh.” I flashed him a charismatic smile, sitting down. “I’m the front man for You Me At Six. You’re Bring Me The Horizon’s lead singer, right?”
“...Oli.”
He wasn’t looking at me, staring across the room at another focal interest point. It was making me nervous.
Was there a boring demeanor about me?
Offering him something from the plate, I shrugged when he replied with a look of disgust. To each their own.
If the food wasn’t good enough for him, I couldn’t do anything about it.
“Hey, that’s okay.” I brushed it off. “Tour food isn’t always really good, I guess. When there’s a lot of people, we just look for something fast and cheap, you know? If you’d like, we could talk over an actual dinner soon. There’s this little place I’ve heard of in the next town over, and it’s known for their...”
I was rambling.
The thoughts running through my head weren’t making any sense, and I wasn’t sure if I was asking him out or what.
Pausing, I glanced at him with an apologetic smile.
He wasn’t even paying attention, but staring off in the distance with a bored expression on his face.
“Oli?” I questioned, my heart sinking a little.
It was taking a lot of courage to actually talk to him, and he was pretending like I didn’t actually exist.
“Oh, sorry.” he blushed, catching my eye for a second. “What did you say? I’m sorry, I was spacing.”
Fuck.
What was I supposed to say? Oh, it’s okay, I was just asking you out in a really casual way, it’s not a big deal.
It’s not like it took a lot of confidence to approach your cute face and ask if you wanted to hang out alone sometime.
You know, like on a date of sorts.
“How did you come up with the name of your band?” I sidetracked, hoping he really hadn’t caught any of my rambling.
“It was a line off of Pirates of the Caribbean, actually.” he whispered, distracted. “Your turn.”
“You Me At Six.” I mused. “It was my old boyfriend’s idea, actually.”
He raised an eyebrow, a miserable expression on his face. It left me feeling a bit miffed, actually.
“Anyway, he always used little pick-up lines, so - ”
There wasn’t a point in finishing the sentence, because Oli stood up and left the bus without a second glance.
His hands were clenched into fists.
“Fucking wanker.” I muttered under my breath, feeling my blood boil. Who the fuck did he think he was?
What the bloody hell?
All I wanted was to make a new friend and hopefully convince the fucking adorable cunt to go out with me.
Fucking rock-star syndrome.
First the food wasn’t good enough for him, and neither was anyone else’s company on this bloody bus.
Now he couldn’t even pretend to listen to me talk.
Well, I didn’t need him to have a good time, so I was going to forget about him and get blitzed.

---

“Fuck, mate.” I muttered, an hour later.
After a few rounds with Mike and Daniel, I was wasted. There was still anger coursing through me as I thought of Oli.
Stepping off the bus for a moment, I caught sight of two figures standing not too far from Pierce The Veil’s bus.
Creeping closer, I realized it was Vic and Oli.
They were clinging onto each other, Oli resting his head on Vic’s chest as they whispered to each other.
Jealousy coursed through me.
No wonder Oli didn’t pay any attention - he was obviously going out with Pierce The Veil’s front man.
He didn’t have to be so fucking rude though!
“Do you want to spend the night on my bus?” Vic offered, his voice raising as he stood up and stretched. “We have an extra bunk.”
“Later, alright?” Oli murmured. “I need some time to think.”
“Sure.”
Vic walked off, leaving Oli alone.
I’m not sure what compelled me to walk forward, but my grip tightened on the beer bottle in my hand as I approached him.
“Oi, Oliver!” I slurred, stopping just a foot in front of him.
He looked up, tears glistening. “What?”
“What’s your fucking problem, mate?” I demanded. “You think you’re better than everyone else on this damn tour? The food’s not grand enough for your liking, the people aren’t good enough for your taste, and the party wasn’t exciting enough for your interest? Not only that, but you had the fucking nerve to just stride off the damn bus when I was in the middle of a sentence!”
“Josh - ” he attempted, but I cut him off.
“You need to fucking understand Oliver, that you’re not any better than the rest of us. You don’t have a fucking right to brush me off as nothing. You’re not better than me, you worthless scum!”
He tried to speak again.
“Just, stop! You’re a fucking cunt, you know that? I always figured this whole rock star syndrome was just a tale, because I’ve never met anyone who’s that rude and fucking arrogant.”
“You don’t understand.” he cut in. “I -”
“You’re fucking terrible!” I yelled, dropping the beer bottle and attempting to push him against the bus.
It felt like it was necessary.
Everything was completely off balance, so I couldn’t really shove him.
I was too drunk.
Not that I was going to let that little fact affect the earlier conversation...uh, confrontation that took place.
Turning on my heel, I started walking back towards my bus and left him alone. Like he left me.
“Damn, fatass.” I muttered. “Lose some fucking weight, will ya?”