Lie a Little More, Try a Little More

The time was three-thirty in the morning. She had just turned off the light in her bunk to settle in and possibly get a little sleep before the tour bus rolled into the next stop around 9am (if they were lucky. Luck had not been on their side on this leg of the tour.). In the dark, even above the mechanical hum of the bus motor, the multiple refrigerators and the light snoring of one exhausted drummer, she could hear someone singing softly. The stylist pulled her curtain back just a bit, wondering if she could hear a little better.
Closing her eyes, she tried to place the song. A radio? Was the bus driver listening to something way up front that she could hear even with the door to the front lounge closed? A few seconds later, she decided that no, it definitely wasn’t a radio, but the song WAS very familiar. She was sure she recognized it. Just as the melody was starting to form in her head, the tune switched to something different but equally haunting. There was only one person on this bus who could sing like that and it had to be Josh.
No wonder it had sounded so close. He slept in the bunk beneath hers. Due to his insomnia, it seemed like a better fit than having him climb over someone multiple times a night. She must have been more groggy and sleep deprived from the night before than she originally thought. She should have figured that out much more quickly.
She listened for a few more moments before the song he was singing quietly to himself switched back to the original. This time, it was slower and more mournful than before. And it certainly hadn’t been a happy tune the first time around.
She twisted herself sideways after freeing herself from the blankets and slid the curtain of her bunk back even further. Grabbing the side of the bunk, she hung herself over the side upside down. Carefully letting go with one hand, she tapped lightly on the curtain of Josh’s bunk and whispered, “Knock knock.”
Immediately the singing stopped and it was quiet. The blood was beginning to rush to her head, so she tapped again. This time, the curtain was pulled back and Josh turned on his light. All he could see was a tangled mess of curly hair as she turned her head to avoid being blinded by his light.
“Do you know what time it is?” he whispered.
“Yes, do you?”
“About three, I think. What is it?”
She grabbed hold of the bunk with both hands again and turned to throw her leg over the side. Shimmying out of her sleep space and dropping to the floor, she sat on Josh’s bunk near his feet. “I could hear you singing. I know you don’t sleep well, but you’re usually quiet at this time of night.”
He looked a little…what? She couldn’t tell. Guilty that he had been caught singing to himself? Worried about disturbing her? “Sorry,” he said quietly. It seemed that the look he had thrown her had been apologetic more than anything else.
“Don’t be. It’s not often I actually get to hear your concerts, despite traveling with you to gigs. And despite what you might believe, I do enjoy listening to you sing.” She smiled at her joke but he didn’t even seem to be listening.
“Could you tell what the songs were?” he asked.
“No. I couldn’t spy well enough to tell. You really were very quiet. I never would have heard you had you not been in the bunk under mine.”
“Can we keep this just between us?”
“Of course. You know I don’t spill secrets,” she said, slightly offended.
“You forget…I don’t know you that well yet. Mike, Ian and Matt have spent more time with you than I have so far.” Josh sat up a little further against his pillows and pulled his long legs up to his chest, giving her room to scoot back.
She took the cue and leaned with her back against the wall, drawing her own legs up into the bunk to sit “Indian-style”. Josh then pulled the curtain closed. This was a bit too intimate for her, but she knew he simply wanted to talk in private. And this was just about as private as you got on a tour bus filled with eight other people. “I noticed that you and I haven’t spent a whole lot of time together. Why is that? Do I intimidate you or something?”
Josh snorted a little before answering. “Ha…no. It’s not that. Truth is, I haven’t spent much time with any of the guys lately. I’m sorry. It’s not you. I enjoy your company when you’re around.” He reached up and flipped the switch of his lamp off.
“Ok, good. Then what’s up? I mean, it’s great to hear and all, but there seems to be something more to that.” She pressed him a little, unsure of whether she should or not. As he said, they didn’t know each other very well yet.
She heard Josh take a deep breath and he made a gesture she couldn’t see in the dark. He could have been shrugging his shoulders or flipping her off with those infamous middle fingers of his and she wouldn’t have known the difference. “Just between us, right?” he asked again, almost pleading.
“Yes. Just between us.”
“The songs that I was singing before…they were from the albums, of course. They were “Lover, Dearest” and “Skin and Bones”. Do you know those?”
“A little, but not well. Even though I both travel with you and work for you, I have to admit that I’m only really familiar with the songs from your current album because you’re singing them on this tour.” She shrugged her shoulders this time, even though she knew he couldn’t see her either.
“Okay,” he sighed. “It’s…never mind.” He sounded utterly defeated.
“No. Just because I don’t know the songs well doesn’t mean I don’t care.” She shifted a little to get more comfortable, even though she wasn’t sure if Josh wanted her to hang around much longer. As part of his apparent ADD personality, he tended to get bored when he had to explain things that people weren’t already aware of.
“It’s hard to explain if you don’t know the songs.”
“Well then…sing them to me?” she hesitantly suggested.
Josh groaned inwardly as if she had just asked him to walk through a mall full of people completely naked. Honestly, with the way he was feeling, he might have rather done that if it meant he didn’t have to talk about himself seriously.
“Or don’t,” she countered. “I asked because I care, not because I want you to get mad or annoyed.”
“No, it’s ok. I’ll do it, but then I have a lot of explaining to do, so we’re gonna be up for a while.” He offered her a pillow…or rather, accidentally hit her with it and she shoved it behind her back after thanking him.
Taking another deep breath, he started his “serenade” with “Lover,Dearest”. By the time he got to the lyric, “it hurts me to say that I want you to stay, but it might be alright if you go,” her eyes were damp and she was feeling emotions that she couldn’t quite put into place. As soon as he got to the ending lines, “sometimes I think that the bitter in you and the quitter in me is bigger than the both of us,” he launched into “Skin and Bones”.
She wasn’t sure her heart could take it by that point. The man had so much talent and every time he opened his mouth to sing, it was raw, pure and gritty. She’d heard the band sing a couple of songs live before and had even listened to their CDs, but in her profession, she couldn’t play favourites. This was a job.
“…it only hurt a bit/and I still feel like shit…” Now she was legitimately crying. She was wiping her eyes with her hands every few seconds and trying to pull herself together without much luck.
Josh finished his song and leaned his forehead against his knees as he wrapped his arms around his legs. He knew she needed a few moments to get herself together, and frankly, so did he. These songs, as well as a few others were always the hardest for him, no matter how many times he sang them or who he sang them to. This time, his audience had been just one person and the reaction was strong. He loved that his music had so much effect on people, but it still secretly hit him like a ton of bricks each time.
Three or four agonizing minutes for Josh went by before she was composed enough to say anything. She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes one last time before attempting to speak. “Josh…,” she whispered, “that was…I can’t even begin to describe it.”
He had heard that before, but he still wished people would try. He wanted her to go on, so he kept quiet and waited.
“It was beautiful. Both songs were amazingly powerful and so personal.”
“Thanks…yeah…they are personal.” His voice was a little unsteady. “That’s the problem.”
“Now I think I get it,” she said, moving closer to Josh by another inch or so. She reached out blindly in the dark, wanting to make some kind of physical contact, and as it was, she managed to lightly pat his leg. She hoped the little gesture would be enough to show him that she was there and supportive of anything he wanted to say. She felt him shaking a little. “Have you had to sing these songs lately in shows?”
“No…” He was barely audible now. His voice was muffled and she was unsure why.
She held back for a bit, debating in her head as to whether he needed space or a hug. In the end, her heart won out over her head and she shifted around in the tight space until she was sitting beside him, their shoulders touching. He still had his legs drawn up to his chest and his forehead on his knees. She would have to grope around in the dark to hug him. Instead, she ran her hand up his arm and squeezed his shoulder. From there, she smoothed her hand over the back of his hair. He was still shaking.
Since Josh didn’t pull away, she slid her arm around his shoulders and he leaned into her, just like a child who was having a bad day. He rested his head on her shoulder as he straightened his legs and crossed them at the ankles.
“What’s going on in your head that these songs are so significant right now?” she asked as she twisted a loose thread on the shoulder of his shirt around her finger.
By this time, he was now taking quick shallow breaths. She was afraid Josh was going to have a panic attack. It wasn’t well known, but he had informed everyone he worked with that ever since the heroin use at a young age, he had started to suffer from panic attacks. He told everyone- friends, band members and crew alike- what he needed from them if they saw he was acting a little different and/or seemed to be trying to deal with one. What he usually needed was calm and quiet. She started to remove her arm as she had heard that he also felt quite claustrophobic during these episodes. Her plan was to head back up to her bunk to give him the space he needed.
“No,” Josh said a bit more loudly than he meant to, startling them both. She had been thinking so hard about what he might need that she hadn’t expected to hear him speak, so she jumped and her heart pounded in her chest. “Sorry,” he said. “Please stay… I want to talk to you about those songs. I really do.” He folded his hands in his lap.
“Ok...ok. I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere.” She settled in again and he leaned his head on her shoulder as she slid her arm around him once more. “Whenever you’re ready…” She was usually a very patient and understanding person, but now it was nearly four in the morning and in some odd turn of events, Josh had actually gotten more sleep than she had over the last week. Her level of patience was wearing thin, unfortunately. But still, she tried her best.
“I don’t know where to start. It’s just…it’s so much.” He spoke as if he was completely exhausted and tired of even turning these thoughts over in his mind.
She leaned her head against his and hugged him a little tighter. She hoped the gesture would be enough to get him talking. It seemed to do the trick when she felt him take a breath.
“How much of my past do you know about?” Warily, he asked this question. His reputation seemed to precede him wherever he went.
“Truthfully? Only what I’ve heard you say in interviews. And even then, you don’t really give a whole lot of information out. You’ve also mentioned the panic attacks.” She couldn’t remember anything else she really knew about the man, aside from what the media and fans had heard.
“No, I guess I don’t. It’s just…hard. I don’t wanna come across as a fucking martyr or something. You know what I’m saying?” He was fidgeting. He didn’t ever seem to stay still for very long and she knew this was driving him crazy, as well as having to take himself seriously and talk about things he’d rather do anything than discuss.
“I do, yes. It’s why you guys don’t know that much about me either.”
“Hey, this is true. Next time we have one of these little heart-to-hearts, we’ll make it about you. I’m glad you understand, though. But that means I have to tell you a lot of stuff.”
“Go ahead. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.” She ran a hand over the back of his hair once again and placed it back on his shoulder.
“Okay, so, you should know by now that I’m a recovering heroin addict, right? And I also put myself through several years of bulimia. I had a very short foray into the world of alcohol, which is partly why I don’t drink now. I also tried anorexia out for size around the same time as the bulimia thing, but I just couldn’t handle being hungry all the time. I’d rather puke and ruin my body that way, I guess. And before you ask, my home life was fine. That’s the question I constantly get asked.” “Is that the source of all your problems?” he mimicked some interviewer in a higher pitched voice. “No, everything at home was fine. I had to grow up pretty quickly, being around professional musicians and everything, but my family has always been super supportive. I just…had a long run of depression that started when I was around 12. I was going through that for about three years before anything else started. The problem was…no one knew.”
At that last statement, he sounded embarrassed and almost ashamed. “Not one fucking person knew. I never said anything. Depression, dude…you either have it or you don’t. It wasn’t something I could control and it wasn’t something I wanted. It was just something that was dealt to me. So when I was finally offered heroin at a party, I won’t ever say I didn’t want it, because I did. I discovered something I really loved and it became a problem. I was never pressured into it. I wasn’t forced to try it. I don’t blame anyone but myself.”
“Right,” she said quietly. “I’m with you so far.”
“The funny thing about the drugs is that it really helped with the eating disorder. I mean, any time I ate, it made me feel sick, so it wasn’t a huge chore to run to the bathroom and puke. I was never truly hungry anyway. It really fucks with your whole body, that drug. Believe me…there’s nothing great about it.”
“From there, what happened?”
“At seventeen, my parents gave me two options. Get clean or get out. At that age, I was already a high school dropout because I was too wasted to go to class. I had no job. I had no money. So my only choice was rehab. There’s nothing romantic about that either. It fucking sucked to not be able to walk, to stay awake for two weeks straight and to not be able to go more than thirty minutes without having to throw up. That was completely the worst time in my life.” He sat up and shook his head at himself, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“I can imagine…and I believe it. You’re a stronger person, having gone through something like that. We all have our stories, and it’s the survivors that amaze me most.”
“No…don’t praise me. Nothing I did deserves that. I’m not a role model.” He seemed almost angry and she removed her arm from around him.
“I didn’t call you a role model. I just…meant that I was glad you came through all of that. You could have given up at any time.”
“I tried…”
“But you’re still here.”
“Heh…yeah. I can’t deny that. The fact is, when I was in rehab, they had us draw these things. There were these circles that represented us. And then around each circle, we had to draw other circles of every drug we’ve ever done and how important they were to us. The bigger the circle, the more important it was. Then they had us do it again, but instead of drugs, they had us draw circles representing the things most important to us. You know...family, friends, school. With most addicts, the drugs are the bigger circle- the more important thing. For me, music was bigger. And that’s when I knew that I couldn’t do both. I just…couldn’t do both. Something had to change. It had to change before I killed myself. At the rate I was going, I knew I would be dead before I hit 21.” Josh’s breath caught in his chest once he had said that. He could detach from the thought if he was talking to an interviewer or in front of an audience. Logically, he knew he was talking about himself, but it always sounded like someone else’s story. Now, though, sitting here in the dark with someone so close to him and hanging on his words, it hit him all over again.
She spoke softly in cautious tones, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to say or even if anything she said would make a difference. “I know you’ve probably been told multiple times before that it’s good that you got help. As repetitive as that is, and for as much as this is worth, I’m glad you got help too. I’m glad you’re still around. And I’d really like the chance to continue to get to know you better.”
For the first time since this conversation had started, Josh knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he had been feeling all this time. He reached up and flipped on his overhead light again, nearly blinding her for the second time that night. Through clenched teeth, he asked, “Why? Why do you care? Why do you want to get to know a douche like me? You wanna deal with me on a regular basis? You want to deal with this?!” He reached over with his right hand and shoved his left sleeve up, revealing thin red streaks across his arm. He couldn’t meet her eyes, but stared at the lines he had carved just hours before instead.
All she could do was look at the marks he had created on his body before she responded. “Are there others?”
“What?” he asked, somewhat confused. Josh thought for sure that she would ask what happened or why or any number of other things. He knew that would come eventually, but he wasn’t prepared for this question now.
“Are…there…others?” she asked a bit more slowly and deliberately.
He debated being honest with her. She had been so good to him so far and he was glad she was letting him speak about the things that were getting to him, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to let her in on everything just yet. “You might as well tell me, Ramsay. Your silence speaks louder than you do.”
He shivered a little and glanced over at the curtain to make sure it was still closed. Slowly he pushed the blankets down towards his feet and twisted his body slightly so the hip closest to her was more visible and out of the shadows. He reached over to his side, pulled up the hem of his sweatshirt with one hand and pushed down his pants and underwear with the other to reveal numerous other red slits in his skin, some of which had not yet healed over and were still oozing a bit. Pulling the cloth away from them had opened most of them up again.
Josh couldn’t look away from her face this time. He needed to see her reaction. When he saw her eyes widen at the red, raw ugliness he had produced, he flinched and quickly let his clothes fall back into place. He purposely wore dark clothing on days when he wasn’t feeling his best and tonight was one of those nights. No one could see that the blood had seeped into his pants and stained them. No one would know. Again. Until now.
She sat quietly for a short while, never looking away from Josh’s hip, even when he covered himself up again and resumed his default sitting position of drawing his legs up to his chest. Her eyes stayed focused on his body, unintentionally making him more and more uncomfortable. He squirmed under her gaze, not quite knowing what to do or say. Josh needed her to say something first.
Eventually she diverted her stare away from him and closed her eyes. She took several deep breaths. “Josh…” she said, with her eyes still closed, “are there more?”
She only opened her eyes when she felt him move a bit to stretch his legs out and slide down the wall. Looking over, he had his thumbs tucked into the front of his pants and underwear and had dragged them down just far enough to show her his lower abdomen, which was completely covered in razor trails. She couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began in spots. “These won’t show,” he whispered.
“No…no they won’t…” She was at a loss. She had no idea that Josh had been doing all of this to himself.
“Is -,”
“That’s all. I swear,” he said, cutting her off before she could ask.
She nodded and he pulled his pants back up and pushed his body back into a more comfortable sitting position. He toyed with the edge of his blanket. Fuck, this was uncomfortable. He hated this and he didn’t even know why he brought it up. He didn’t know why he wanted to tell anyone, let alone her. Maybe he felt like she wouldn’t judge him, not having known him a decade ago when he did this for the first time.
“I…have questions…” Even after divulging the things he had done to his body, she still wasn’t sure if it was safe to pressure him into talking at all. But she was going to take a chance because this was so serious.
“I know…” Josh nodded. “Everyone did back then, too…”
“Will you answer them? Or will you be…you know…yourself?”
He ducked his head until his hair fell across his eyes and he shrugged.
“Ok, then I’ll try anyway. How long has this been going on?”
“Well, there was this children’s birthday party back in 2002-“
“No,” she said stopping him mid-story. “I gave you a chance and now I want the truth.”
“Just tonight.” He lightly rested his hands against his thighs and rubbed his palms against the fabric as if trying to get something invisible off his skin.
“You did all of this in one night?? Oh, Josh… dude…”
“Yeah…”
“Josh, what’s up that you’ve started this again? It sounds like you were doing so well for so long. When did you even do this? You were with the rest of us all evening. We never even saw you leave the room. What did you use to do this?”
He leaned his head back against the wall of his bunk. Speaking low and slowly, he absent-mindedly moved his hands from his thighs to his stomach and laid them flat against his body as if to protect the cuts. He avoided most of her questions but tried to give the stylist some form of an answer. “All of this…all of this is fucking useless. Traveling all the time, singing the same fucking songs that I wrote about my own life and having everyone know about it or…think they have some brilliant theory. The hours, not sleeping, being with the same people day in and day out…and…knowing they’re all better people than me. It’s just too much. There are times when I just can’t take it at all. Tonight was it. I’m done. I’m just fucking done. I needed that release. The same one I could find years ago.” Even though his hair threw a shadow across his face, she could see his lashes glistening under the lamp light.
“Is there anything else you’ve been up to? You had a lot of things going on back then, all at the same time.”
He lifted his head and his eyes were dark and angry. “You think I’m back to using again?” He got defensive very quickly.
“I don’t know, Josh! I mean, you keep reminding me that we don’t know each other that well. And I didn’t even know you had done this to yourself tonight. I didn’t know you were having trouble coping with things at all. I’m simply asking. I hope I know the answer, but I wanna hear it from you.”
His eyes softened a little, realizing she was right. She couldn’t know anything he had done because he hadn’t told anyone until tonight. Relaxing just a bit more, he shook his head. “No drugs.”
“Good,” she said, sounding extremely relieved. “One less thing to deal with.”
“What the fuck do you mean by that?!” he asked, the tension coming back into his body.
“Well,” she defended herself, “you’ve got everyone on this tour bus that cares about you and whether you live or die, and it would hurt them to know that you’ve been at this self-harming thing again tonight.”
He knew she was right, but he was even angrier now. “Hey! You promised that this would just be between us. You fucking PROMISED.” Josh was now getting too loud but neither of them realized it until someone tapped on the bunk curtain, causing them both to jump. She quickly moved so she was sitting down near Josh’s feet again. No need to give anyone any strange ideas.
There was muffled whispering coming from the other side of the curtain. Josh pushed the curtain back and a surprised Mike was stooped over staring back at the two of them sitting together in the same bunk.
“What?!” asked Josh with irritability in his voice.
Mike’s eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep, even though he had been in his bunk for hours now. “I said, you guys…” he spoke with a raspy voice that could only mean they had woken him, “you’ve gotta keep it down at least a little. If you’re gonna fight, take it up front!” It took a lot to get Mike angry or even upset, but the fact that he looked irritated now spoke wonders. She couldn’t blame him. No one liked being woken up.
“Sorry,” Josh said holding his hands up in a bit of a surrender motion. “It’s time to get sleep anyway.” She nodded along, even though she still had much left to talk to the lead singer about.
“Good,” Mike said yawning. “Maybe I can get back to sleep if I’m lucky. Goodnight, you two.” Starting to straighten, he stopped himself to try to catch Josh’s eyes just to make sure everything was ok when he noticed something odd about his friend’s appearance.
In one quick motion, Mike kneeled down and reached past the stylist to grab Josh’s arm. Josh’s eyes widened considerably as he realized he never pushed his sleeve down. All those marks. All those cuts. They were all showing and now Mike had seen them too. He had given himself away. Fuck. FUCK!
“What the hell is this, Ramsay?” Mike pulled Josh’s arm across his body to get a closer look. His grip on Josh’s wrist was tight so there was no pulling away.
Josh tried to cover his arm with his free hand, but Mike shoved him away. “No, I asked you what the hell this was.” Mike was the most mild-mannered one of the group, but seeing this had changed him. He was completely aware and no longer in the stupor that being woken up had brought on him.
“I…I…” Josh stuttered, unable to complete his thought.
Mike looked at the stylist sitting at the foot of the bed. “You knew about this?” His nostrils flared when he got angry, she noticed. It was kind of a cute trait. She held off answering right away because she had promised Josh that these things would stay between the two of them. She looked up to try to catch Josh’s eyes, but he was staring down at his lap with his hair covering his face again. Taking the plunge, she nodded. “Only for the last hour.”
Mike dropped Josh’s arm and ran a hand through his hair, which had curled after his shower earlier in the evening. “I don’t believe this…”
Josh had yet to say anything, but he had subtly reached up to shove his sleeve back into place, obscuring the view of the slices in his arm from everyone again. He glanced up to catch his stylist looking at him. He looked her in the eyes very briefly before dropping his gaze again.
“Don’t either of you move,” Mike said, placing his hands on Josh’s bunk and shoving himself into a standing position. Through the open curtain, they could see him waking Ian and Matt out of their own deep slumbers.
“Fuck…” Josh whispered to himself. He tugged at the cuff of his sweatshirt. He had been a pale man before, but any colour in his face had been drained away since Mike had discovered his secret.
They could hear Mike telling both Ian and Matt as he woke them that they had “a serious problem” and that they needed to get up, but he hadn’t told them what it was. He had chosen to have Josh show them instead.
Mike waited at the back of the bus while the boys stumbled out of their bunks, sleepily rubbing their eyes, adjusting their clothing and yawning. It was way too early to be awake. Matt and Ian may still have been in sleep-mode, but Mike had said there was a problem and they were going to have to wake up enough to deal with it. Matt shook his head and groaned a little.
“Come on. Everybody to the back lounge. We have to talk,” Mike said, taking charge and opening the door to the seating area. Matt and Ian walked through, both falling back onto the leather seats. Ian let his head drop against the plush head rest and closed his eyes. He wasn’t yet awake and didn’t want to be. Matt sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, trying to will himself awake.
Meanwhile, Mike had walked back over to Josh, grabbed the stylist’s hand and pulled her gently out of the bunk. “You guys too. Let’s go. I’m not going to tell them. You are.”
Josh looked completely miserable as he followed his stylist out of the bunk. His stomach was in knots and his vision swam a little as heart pounded and he became slightly light-headed. She stepped into the back lounge first and Josh followed suit, holding onto the wall, wondering if he might pass out before he got there. Mike stepped in behind Josh and closed the door.
The stylist and the singer both found places to sit between Ian and Matt. Josh, yet again, took comfort in sitting next to his new-found friend. Even though the other men were his best friends and people who knew him better than anyone else, he found a bit of safety in sitting with her at the moment.
Ian sat up and looked at Mike, who stood up in front of the group with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was as serious as his stance was.
“Ok, what’s up? It’s dicks-o-clock in the morning,” Ian said, quoting something Josh had said long ago,” and it’s too damned early to be up.” Matt sat up and nodded along in agreement.
Mike stared down Josh who had yet to say a single word or move since he had sat down. He knew he’d have to come clean now. If he didn’t tell them, Mike would. At least if he told, he could explain. Not that there was anything to explain.
“Josh?” Mike called for his attention. That was his cue. He felt his stylist place her hand on his lower back. He owed her some answers too.
Sighing heavily, Josh stood up next to Mike. The bass player moved over just enough to give him room. The singer closed his eyes for the umpteenth time that night, just to block out their reactions, and rolled up his sleeve revealing the marks along his arm. He heard Matt mumble, “whoa…” After everyone had gotten a good look at his arm, he decided to complete the tour of his body by showing off the rest.
Josh then turned so his right side was facing the group and he tugged down his clothes again, just enough to show them the damage he had done to his hip. He chose then to open his eyes simply to gauge the reaction of the guys and none of them were happy, as he suspected. He let go of the clothes against his side and slid everything down in the front so they could also get a look at his lower abdomen- the spot where he had done the worst as well as the most significant damage to his body.
Once everyone had seen, and Josh felt thoroughly ashamed and embarrassed, he pulled his clothes back up and took his place on the seat again, leaning his head back. No one wanted to be the first to break the silence. Really, no one knew what to say. Matt was the only one who knew Josh back when he was going through this the first time around. Unfortunately, Josh had hidden nearly everything about his addictions to drugs, alcohol, self-harming and eating disorders from Matt as well as the rest of the world. The only thing he couldn’t hide was the fact that he would disappear for months at a time, only to show up looking sicker than he was when he left. Matt didn’t know what to do about that back then and he didn’t know what to do about Josh now.
Mike and Ian threw glances at Matt over Josh’s head as if looking to him for guidance, but all Matt could do was shrug his shoulders and shake his head as if to tell the other guys that he was feeling just as helpless and confused as they were. He had known his friend was a cutter back in high school, but he had never actually seen the scars. At least, not while they were still so fresh. He had only seen some very faint scars on his friend’s wrist, and those blended in nearly perfectly with the pale man’s skin. They were only truly noticeable if he ever got a tan. Matt secretly thought that’s why Josh tended to stay out of the sun so much, but he never brought that up.
Josh continued to be quiet and still, which was extremely unlike him. He was usually the hyperactive one, the one everyone was always wishing would just park his ass somewhere for five minutes and relax without having to talk or move around. That’s when everyone in the room knew that he must be further in over his head than anyone realized. Josh could usually bounce back well from daily struggles, but this seemed to be too much for him. This seemed to have broken him, whatever “this” was.
After minutes that felt like hours dragged by, everyone turned to look at the only female in the room. It’s not that the boys were uncomfortable being affectionate and comforting. Quite the opposite. They had been together for so long that they knew what to say and do to make everyone else feel better about any given situation. In this particular instance, they had each noticed that she was the least shocked by Josh’s little game of show and tell. She looked up at Mike as if waiting for him to tell her what to do. She caught him mouthing the words, “she already knew” to Matt and Ian. Both had odd looks on their faces. Disbelief, perhaps. Ian made a move to stand and Mike held a hand out to stop him. Quietly, breaking the tension and the silence, he said to both Matt and Ian, “no, don’t be angry. I was at first too, thinking she was working for us and keeping secrets like this. But she said she’s only known for the last hour or so, and I believe that. She’s never lied to us before. Let’s forget all that, though. We all know now. Our main priority is Josh.”
Hearing his name, he sat forward, put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands, mimicking the same move Matt had made earlier. His entire body was shaking all over again. Ian, sitting to his left could feel it, but only the stylist was the one to do anything about it. She gently placed a hand on his lower back again, just as she had done before. She felt him take a couple of deep breaths, which sounded louder than usual since he was breathing through his fingers. He was cold to the touch and she knew he was scared.
Though she had no children and was Josh’s age, she had a built-in maternal instinct that kicked in whenever anyone felt this way. She wanted to grab his blanket from his bunk and wrap him up in a cocoon of warmth to protect him from everyone else’s glares as well as from himself. To do that, she’d have to walk past Mike, who was still standing against the door with his arms folded. His facial expression had softened from anger to confusion, but he still didn’t look like someone she’d want to cross in this moment. Just the same, she decided to risk it and stood up.
It proved to be a bold move, as every eye on the room was on her, including Josh’s, as she took the three steps from her seat to Mike. “I need…I mean…excuse me,” she said, reaching for the door handle. He stepped out of the way without question. It had only been forty-five minutes since he had called them all to the back of the bus, but it had already been a long night and she suspected he just didn’t want another fight on his hands. Thankful for that, she slipped through the door, closing it behind her. Josh was her main priority, but there was something she needed to do first. She had to fall apart.
Tears sprang to her eyes before she even got to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind her, she sank to the floor and sobbed. It had been an exhausting and emotional night only made worse by the fact that she still hadn’t slept since the night before. But she wasn’t crying for herself. She had made an emotional connection to someone and she was feeling his pain. The stylist still might not know Josh, the man, very well, but she knew this situation and it made her heart ache and her stomach twist. Her head pounded and her eyes were swollen. She looked on the outside nearly the way Josh felt on the inside. She grabbed some toilet paper to wipe her eyes. Her sobbing continued until she was completely drained. She had no more left in her. She was finally numb for the moment.
Standing, nausea hit her and she retched into the toilet. Fucking nerves were getting the better of her. Eventually she felt well enough to clean herself up, brush her teeth and head back out to face the boys again. She was lucky she remembered to pick up the blanket in Josh’s bunk on the way back.
As she walked up to the door, she took two very deep, steady breaths to calm herself, as her stomach had twisted itself into knots again. Knocking lightly, the door cracked open and she slipped in, shutting it behind her. No one had moved and it seemed like no one had spoken in the entire time she was gone. Draping the blanket across Josh’s shoulders, she took her seat next to him and crossed her legs.
Seconds later, Josh went limp and fell across her lap. “FUCK! What’s this?? What happened? JOSH! Josh, man…come on. This isn’t funny.” Mike had immediately dropped to his knees in front of them and was trying to rouse him by shaking his shoulder.
“He’s still breathing and he’s still got a pulse,” Ian said after grabbing Josh’s wrist.
“ARE YOU SURE??” the stylist asked, in full-blown panic mode.
“If there’s one thing I know, it’s beats,” the drummer joked, true as that was.
Thirty seconds went by…forty…fifty…a full minute. With everyone all over him, trying to wake him up, eventually Josh stirred. The relief on everyone’s face was evident and obvious. Mike sat back on his heels, wiping his face. Ian and Matt exchanged a “thank God” look, but stayed exactly where they were, kneeling on either side of Mike in front of Josh and his pinned stylist.
Josh started to come to in time to hear someone talking from somewhere far away. “…must have passed out…” He was awake but exhausted and done in. He was not at all comfortable, but he didn’t have the energy to move. He felt someone with warm hands brushing his hair back. It felt nice. No one had done that for him in a long time. Not since he was young. He tried to relax and focus on that for the time being.
He flickered his eyes, letting everyone know he was awake and soon enough, the other three backed off. Even with his eyes closed yet again, Josh could sense that there was some silent conversation going on over his head. He didn’t care. He was tired of being involved.
Quietly, from right above his ear came his stylist’s voice. “Josh? Can you hear me?” He still had his head on her lap, so he nodded as she continued to run her hand lightly over his hair. “Can you understand what I’m saying?” He nodded again, drawing his arm up and wrapping his hand in the blanket to pull it tighter around himself.
“Good. Are you ok?” He thought about this loaded question for a time. Eventually, he shook his head no. It was time to be completely honest with everyone. He wasn’t ok.
Matt spoke up this time. “Are you sick?” Josh shook his head a little. All of the head shaking and nodding was making him a little dizzy and he just wanted the questions to stop. After a few more ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions and answers, the room got quiet again, and for that, Josh was thankful.
Everyone sat in silence again, still unsure of what to do. Once again, more of the silent discussions and arguments were going on over Josh’s head. He knew it was about him. What else could it be about? He was the center of their fucking world right now and he hated every minute of it. He had no one to blame but himself all because he had caused this mess in the first place. He felt his eyes sting a little with the threat of tears, but he pulled the blanket up higher to hide his face. His stylist had yet to make him move, in spite of the fact that her leg had gone tingly, then numb at least fifteen minutes prior. She was still petting him like a dog, rubbing his shoulder and his side. Despite feeling sorry for himself on one hand and feeling nothing on the other, he was still glad, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he had such support around him when he needed it.
The later it got, the more patience the group lost. Mike had taken to sitting on the floor and had leaned back against the door while Matt stared off into space and Ian dozed off unintentionally. How he could sleep through this, no one knew. No one else was in the least bit tired now. Josh was still awake, but hadn’t made a move to sit up yet. He truly just didn’t want to face anyone yet. He was embarrassed and guilty among a plethora of other things. It was easier to pretend nothing out there, outside of his own head, existed. He was good at that. It was why he came off as such a douchebag sometimes.
“Josh?” The stylist quietly tried to get his attention without scaring him. He was lost inside his head again so she had to say his name twice before he heard it. “Mmm…?”
“Sit up, ok? We need to talk to you.” He felt her hands under his shoulder as she helped him sit up. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. Everyone was swimming in front of him. He didn’t know if he had really done some serious damage or if he was just woozy from his fainting spell.
He looked at Mike, who was still sitting on the floor looking annoyed. He had pulled one leg up and had his arm resting on his knee. His elbow was bent and he was leaning his head against his hand. “Welcome back,” he said.
The sound of Mike’s voice pulled Ian out of his light sleep and drew Matt’s gaze away from the speck of missing paint on the wall that he had been staring ever-so-intently at for the last fifteen minutes.
Ian cleared his throat and shifted his body to the edge of the seat so he could look Josh in the eyes. “Listen, we’re tired, we’re grouchy and we’re worried. We need to know what’s going on with you.” Ian was usually pretty laid back, but he’d had enough. He was worried about his friend, but also his career. If Josh gave up, he’d have to start all over. Selfish? Yes, he knew it was, but with the long silences this night, he had plenty of time to think. Honestly, every person on the bus was having the same thought. Their lives, whether Josh realized it or not, depended on him.
Josh blinked several times and stood up quickly. He reached out to steady himself and his stylist put her hand up to offer support. After a moment or two, he took a step towards Mike, who was watching him with great concern. Mike pulled himself to his feet so he was nearly eye-level with the tall blonde.
“You wanna know what the fuck is going on with me? YOU ALL WANNA KNOW SO FUCKING BAD??” Josh was yelling now. His hands were shaking as they flew to the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it up over his head and tossed it to the floor. Pointing at the lines he had dug into his skin earlier, he dragged the nails of his opposite hand across them, causing the cuts to re-open and blood began to seep through the recently-healed marks. He hissed through his teeth at the stinging, warm, familiar pain. “THIS. THIS IS WHAT’S GOING ON WITH ME. You wanted to know, HERE IT IS. I did this, this,” he said pointing to his hip, “and this,” he gestured to his stomach, “about three hours ago. And if SOMEONE hadn’t stuck her fucking nose into my business, I might have actually finished the job!”
Josh had everyone’s attention from the second he had stood and walked to the center of the small room, but now everyone was staring. No one could believe what they had just heard. He couldn’t possibly mean what he was alluding to.
Now it was the stylist’s turn to look pale as if she might fall over any second. Matt reached out and grabbed her hand to keep her steady and to keep her with them. He squeezed her hand a bit.
Ian and Mike were once again completely shocked by this broadcast as well.
Josh seemed almost oblivious to the kind of news he had just dropped on everyone. Instead of looking up at them, he stared at the blood running down his arm and coating his fingers. He slowly opened and closed his palm a few times, feeling the stickiness of the moist blood in his hand. It was sickeningly satisfying for him.
Ian turned away when he saw Josh so focused on the red staining his body. Blood was not something he was ok with on a good day, but especially not now. Not like this.
Josh only bled for a few minutes before the slices that he had reopened started to heal over again. The blood dried in streaks down his arm. He stood there continually staring at it, watching it dry before touching a finger to the deepest mark on his arm
His stylist watched all of this with a kind of morbid fascination before she realized what exactly she was seeing. “NO!” she yelled, startling everyone in the room. Now all eyes were on her. Everyone but Josh. He was still lost in his own world.
She let go of Matt’s hand and stood. This motion put her right up next to Josh. “I…said…NO.”
He finally looked down into her eyes. “No?” he questioned, seemingly not quite grasping what she was saying.
“Damnit, Ramsay! I said NO. You are NOT gonna do anything to hurt yourself ever again.” She placed a hand against his chest and shoved him backwards until he his back hit the door.
What she said finally registered and she could see it in his eyes. Josh smirked at her and growled back, “and just what the fuck do you think you’re gonna do about it?” He was holding his bloodied arm at his side, but both hands were balled up into fists. Ian noticed this first. Josh wasn’t the violent type, but who knew where his head was right now?
The stylist took a bold step forward. It was either the bravest thing or the most stupid move she had ever made. She couldn’t decide, even as she was doing it. She had barely seen Josh throughout this entire tour and she knew so little about him, but here she was stepping up against him. She might easily be ending her career in this very moment, but she decided it was worth it if it meant she might be able to help save his life.
There were only about six inches between the stylist and the lanky blonde man who towered over her by almost a foot. If he lashed out at her, he had the advantage. She realized she was staring at his bare chest, so she looked up into his eyes. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about it, but you can bet your ass I’ll find a way to help you. I’ve lost too many people in my life that I care about to suicide in some way or form and I’m not going…I REFUSE…to let you do the same thing,” she ranted. She was nearly out of breath due to the fast racing of her heart as she confronted Josh, but she continued on. “You mean way too much to too many people. You’ve got everyone on this bus. You’ve got everyone in this ROOM,” she gestured blindly around her to Mike, Matt and Ian. “You’ve got your family. You’ve got other friends outside this band. And you’ve got your fans. Everyone cares about you. Everyone needs you around.” By now she was seeing double. Her heart was pounding way too hard. She couldn’t believe she was yelling at the same man that she was in awe of just several short months ago when he asked her to tour with the band as their stylist.
She took a deep breath and stepped back just slightly. If she fainted as Josh had done earlier, the last thing she wanted to do now was fall face-first into his crotch. Her eyes left his and she stared down at her socks. Pink with blue stripes tonight. She was glad she had thought to bring cute things to sleep in. What a stupid thought at a time like this. It’s amazing where the brain goes when it tries to protect itself.
Oddly enough, thinking about her socks helped to calm her down. She was still nervous about the situation, but she was no longer panicking. Her vision had returned to normal and she could breathe regularly again. The trouble with Josh still remained, though. As she was wondering what to do next, she felt two hands on her shoulders shove her backwards and she stumbled until she hit the couch. Thank god for the smallness of the room, otherwise she would have landed on her ass. She already had enough trouble for the day. But as her luck would have it, the couch broke her fall and she landed squarely on the seat.
Seconds later, Josh had been tackled by Mike who was now in his face. “NEVER, EVER do that again. Do you hear me?!” As Mike was dealing with Josh, Matt and Ian had each moved to her sides to make sure she was ok. She was physically fine, just unnerved. What had started out as somewhat of an intervention to help Josh had now turned physical and she was to blame.
Mike stepped in between the stylist and the lead singer and turned to face her Josh peered at her over Mike’s shoulder. “Are you ok? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m ok.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I never should have involved you in this. You can go if you want,” Mike stated, looking guilty that he had almost, unintentionally gotten her hurt.
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. We all just wanted to help Josh and I opened my mouth when I probably shouldn’t have. This is NOT your fault, Mike. What just happened here…this is between me and Ramsay, no one else.” For the first time since she had spoken directly to Josh, she looked up at his face.
He still looked angry and intimidating, but she was no longer wary of him. Something in her mind told her that even though Josh had come after her, he chose to use the one physical motion that would cause the least amount of damage. He could have hit her. He could have broken her ribs or her nose. Instead, all he did was the same thing she had done to him.
Working up a bit of nerve, she stood up again and took a step towards Mike and Josh. She gently tugged on the front of Mike’s shirt in a gesture that asked him to step out of the way so she could be one-on-one with Josh. Once he did, she looked up at Josh and smiled just a little and shrugged. “Yeah…well…payback is a motherfucker.”
The boys behind her all exchanged glances that said they weren’t sure if they should laugh or be very afraid for her. Josh cracked a smile for the first time that night. She had made perfect use of a great line from one of their songs. “Hah…touché. I’m sorry, though. I shouldn’t have-”
“Neither should I,” she said cutting him off mid-sentence. “I deserved it. But I meant what I said, though. All of this has to stop.” She covered his razor marks with her hand. Bloody or not, it was to show him several things. She wanted to let him know that she wasn’t afraid of him in any way and that she cared enough to be right there with him when he needed someone.
In that moment, Josh broke. The anger, the humiliation, the embarrassment, the guilt, the depression…everything in him shattered.
Everyone in the room watched as Josh’s entire demeanor changed. His eyes became glassy and he sank to the floor. He defaulted yet again to his signature sitting position with his knees pulled up to his chest. He dropped his forehead down onto his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs. His body shook as he tried to control the tears, but this time he couldn’t. It was humiliating. He didn’t want people to see him this way, but there was just nothing he could do about it. He was completely finished. He didn’t have it in himself to fight anymore. He couldn’t fight everything he had been working so hard to contain. Everyone knew his secrets and, as scary as that was, he was glad he didn’t have to deal with this alone all over again. Doing it once was hard enough. A second time would surely kill him, and that’s what he had been hoping for just a few hours prior.
“Help me…please…,” he mumbled. “I can’t…”
At that moment, Mike, Ian, Matt and their stylist were all kneeling on the floor surrounding Josh. Ian had his arm around Josh’s bare shoulders.
Once Josh had calmed down enough to un-tuck himself from his position to raise his head, the stylist handed him some tissues and gently smoothed his hair back from his face. She knew he used that to hide from the world when he didn’t want to be seen. But now it was important that he looked at all of them.
Matt spoke up first. “Josh, man…we want to help you. We just need to know how.”
Mike picked up from there. “Matt’s right. But even more importantly, we need to know when you’re dealing with this kinda thing so we CAN help you. We all thought you’d seemed a little quiet for the last few weeks, but we all have times when we need some space. It didn’t ever occur to any of us that it was more than that for you.”
Josh nodded, looking miserable again. Poor guy. It had been a “vagina of a night”, as he would say. He clearly wasn’t getting off easy by any means. “I know. I’m sorry.” He took a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled slowly as he wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands, smearing dried blood all over the left side of his face.
The stylist spoke up. “Before anyone thinks of doing anything, I think we’d better let Josh clean up, yes?”
Ian nodded and removed his arm from around Josh. “Yes. Please! This better show you how much I care about you. The blood thing…ugh.”
Josh laughed a little. “Ian, you pans…,” he said, borrowing Matt’s vocabulary.
Ian laughed and stood, helping Josh to his feet.
“I might need help, though. There are some places that I can’t really see…”
The men in the room turned to look at each other. Mike and Matt spoke at the same time. “NOT IT!” “Jinx!” Ian shook his head and backed away.
“Not me. I can’t do blood, remember? If I help him, you’ll all have to take care of TWO of us.”
Matt looked at the stylist and ruffled her hair. “I guess you’re it, kiddo!”
“But…,” she protested. “Me? It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that this requires someone to be at about eye-level with Josh’s crotch.”
Josh looked slightly embarrassed but seemed to almost enjoy the fact that it would make her uncomfortable. “How bad could that be?” he asked, sounding a little better than before. “You’ve already seen us all in our underwear. This isn’t THAT different. Besides, who wouldn’t want to be in that position??”
“Well…okay,” she considered. Knowing she was suckered into doing it anyway, she surrendered. Standing with the rest of the group, she noticed that the other men seemed relieved that she had agreed.
“Besides,” said Mike, “you’re the stylist. So style him!”
That got a laugh out of everyone. “Maybe I’ll request some vajazzling while I’m at it,” Josh joked.
The stylist hung her head and groaned. “Look what you guys are doing to me! Sure, many, MANY women would kill to take my place here, but it’s weird!”
Matt opened the door and practically pushed the two of them through it. “Bathroom’s that way!”
She had to suck it up. It was now or never and they had all just agreed to always be there for Josh and help him in any way possible. Oy. “Vagina of a night, indeed,” she mumbled to herself. Here goes nothing.
Josh reached out and opened the tiny bathroom’s door and stepped inside. It wasn’t spacious by any means and he wondered how the two of them were going to fit in there together, but he just couldn’t see the entirety of his hip or his stomach in order to properly clean it or even to see if he had done more damage than he realized, so he needed his stylist now more than ever. He moved against the back wall, allowing her as much room as he could. She followed him in, closing and locking the door behind them.
Digging the medical kit out from the cabinet under the sink, her first concern was how they would approach this whole situation as well. She rifled through the kit, trying to buy herself some time while looking for bandages, antiseptic and cotton. Finding these things a bit too quickly, she closed the kit and set it down on the floor beside the sink. “So,” she said without turning to face Josh, “umm…”
“Yeah…those are my thoughts too.”
“Ok, we can do this. It’s not weird. It’s…it’s just not. We can do it.” It was more of a pep talk for herself, even though she spoke out loud. He stood against the wall, watching her line everything up on the counter. She was so uncomfortable and he almost felt bad, but not so bad that he was ok with her leaving. He felt bad for snapping at her earlier and he was trying so hard to be better. He needed help and he knew it. He needed to learn to trust that people would be there for him. A line from his song “Alibis” ran through his head repeatedly as he listened to her talk to herself, trying to psych herself up to deal with him and his mess. “I’m in the same place I used to be, but I’m trying harder not to be…” It was true. He fell hard. But his friends showed him that he could be ok and that they were going to help him do just that. His stylist’s words were hitting home for him too.
There was just enough room in the tiny bathroom for Josh to sit on the counter near the sink, so she patted the tile and stepped out of his way as best she could. As tall as he was, he easily slid into place and swung his feet a little as he watched her pour some peroxide onto the cotton she had fished out of the medical kit. Taking the back of his hand in hers, she held his arm over the sink while she cleaned the lines of dried blood from his forearm and hand. The blood mixed with the liquid antiseptic left splattered dots of muted red in the sink.
Josh had been watching her work until he saw the droplets falling from his arm. He turned his head away as his stomach started to churn. Seeing all of this and seeing his stylist help clean him up…seeing how much she cared about someone she barely even knew…all of this was making him realize what he could have done to himself. Looking away didn’t help. He was going to be sick.
Suddenly, he pushed himself off the counter, pulled his arm away from her and shoved her out of the way until he was bent over the toilet seeing everything he had eaten in the last twenty-four hours in reverse. Fuck modesty. This wasn’t something he was ever willing to do in front of someone else, but she had already learned his darkest secret, so he had nothing left to lose, figuratively speaking.
His nose ran and his eyes teared as he lost everything in his stomach. All of this was getting to be too much again. Josh knew that this time around, he was just reacting to the situation, but it brought back every memory he had of his later teenage years. This time, the vomiting wasn’t on purpose like it used to be, but fuck him if he wasn’t reliving all of those moments all over again, making everything so much worse.
Just as his stomach was settling, he felt his stylist kneel beside him and gently rub his back. He wasn’t sure if it was comforting or embarrassing. He really didn’t have a choice either way, though.
Eventually the queasy feeling in Josh’s stomach eased and he was able to flush the toilet and stand up again. He had to clean himself up. The taste in his mouth was not only awful on any given day, but it reminded him way too much of the past. Everything was creeping back up on him again. Every single fucking detail and he did everything he could to try to erase it, starting by brushing his teeth. He wiped at his eyes several times and turned his back on his stylist while he brushed his teeth and filled his mouth with mouthwash. Better, he thought, after all was said and done. At least his mouth was clean again, even if he still felt like shit. Josh’s stomach was still tense, but he now felt like he could stand being doted on without the fear that he would lose it again.
The stylist had stayed right where she was on the floor to give him a few moments to himself. She could have left the room and given him some privacy, but wherever his mind was, she wasn’t so sure it was such a good idea to leave him. So she tried her best to avert her eyes to make the whole situation less uncomfortable than it already was. She only looked up when she saw Josh take his seat on the counter again out of the corner of her eye.
She continued to kneel on the floor looking up at him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes at all. It was bad enough that he had told her all about the recent cutting tonight and his suicidal thoughts, but now she had to witness him getting sick as well. She really couldn’t imagine a worse night for him.
Just when Josh thought things couldn’t get worse for him, they did. Every time he thought he was at the bottom of the pit of embarrassment, the floor opened up and he fell through. He hadn’t been like this in ten years. The last time he was sick in front of anyone, he was in recovery in rehab and he was with a bunch of other people going through the same thing. This time, it was just him. Alone. The last time he had to show off his scars, it was a decade ago. He just couldn’t believe things had gotten this way again. Sure, to his credit, he was clean, but he easily could have been seventeen or eighteen years old again. In his mind, he really never left that age. It’s what drugs do to you, he was told. But he really thought he had gotten past these issues, and now here he was at twenty-eight years old, being watched over and cleaned up like a little kid because he couldn’t take care of himself.
The stylist stood and took the two steps over to where Josh sat near the sink and moved between his legs. He still refused to acknowledge her until she reached a hand out and cupped his chin, gently turning his head in her direction. “It’s ok. There was just the two of us in here. No one else saw. No one else needs to know.”
With that, she let go of his chin and slid her arms around his lanky frame, holding him close to her for all she was worth. She wasn’t sure if Josh knew what to do with that, but after the night he had, he needed the comforting touch. He put his arms around her too, and rested his chin on the top of her head.
He hadn’t felt this safe in a long time. In fact, he didn’t even know he was missing it. Once again, he was feeling things he hadn’t felt in years- things he had been fighting. Instead of ignoring it, he let his emotions get the best of him again that night and the tears fell from his eyes before he could do anything about it. The warm salty tears streaked down Josh’s face and soaked into the stylist’s hair.
She rubbed his back again and this time, Josh felt it as the comforting move it was. He liked it and he didn’t want her to let go. He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but eventually he started to get cold. He was still shirtless and the bus was always cooler closer to the front. Despite her warm embrace, he was shivering now.
“Cold,” he whispered.
“I can feel that,” she said, hugging him a bit tighter.
“Don’t wanna let go…”
“Tell you what. Let’s finish getting you cleaned up, and then you can get redressed. If you’re really nice to me, you can spend the night in my bunk, providing it’s ok with the guys. I’m more than happy to play the part of your security blanket for the night, but only if the guys know about it. Deal?”
Josh nodded, his chin still on top of her head.
“Ok, good. We still have to clean up your hip and your stomach. Which one’s first?” she asked, slowly removing her arms from around his torso.
Josh shrugged and set his hands on the counter on either side of his body.
“Least embarrassing first, then?” she asked.
“Both are pretty humiliating,” he responded with a bit of his signature attitude.
“True. Then you choose. I’m only doing this for you, you know. I’m not doing it because I wanna get a good look at your pasty, pale, vampire-ish body.” She put her hands on her hips and waited for Josh to make a decision. The stylist was now extremely sleep deprived and was trying her best to keep her calm. This really wasn’t the time for losing her temper. Not now. Not with Josh. Not again.
Slowly Josh slid his body down off the counter and stood in front of her. “Let’s get this over with.” He tugged the front of his clothes down to expose the razor slices in his skin beneath his belt. Any lower and this would be a scene in a horrible porn movie, he thought to himself.
Little did he know that his stylist was thinking the exact same thing. “Umm…,” she started. “Ok, here. Let’s do this.” She moved him half a step to the right until he was in front of the sink. He leaned his body back against it while she sat on the closed toilet. At least this was somewhat better than kneeling in front of him. Sort of. Almost.
She reached around Josh and plucked the cotton gauze and peroxide off the counter. “Be careful with that stuff,” he requested nervously and hitched up his belt slightly. She got the hint and promised she’d be as careful as possible.
As the stylist began to clean the slashes, he gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. “Fuck! FUCK!! Fucking OW, dude!!”
“Hey, I’m sorry. You’ve got a lot of pretty deep cuts here. I’m trying to be as gentle as I possibly can, but some of these look pretty bad, Josh. You really did a number on yourself here.” She lightly wiped the gauze over the painful marks, which made him gasp a time or two every time she touched one that was particularly deep.
“Almost done,” she said, trying to reassure him that it wouldn’t be too much longer that he’d have to endure this. But she wanted to make sure that she cleaned him up as well as possible to avoid infection later on down the road. She didn’t want this to cause any more problems than this already had.
The stylist lightly patted the area dry before applying some healing ointment. Josh groaned quietly, “it hurts…”
“I know, and I’m sorry. Really I am. I don’t want to hurt you.” She took her time, spending a few extra minutes looking at Josh’s belly and wondering why he had even started this in the first place. He had never really told them yet, although she suspected that it was a conversation that would be occurring shortly.
Josh looked down at her and caught her staring. She hadn’t moved the gauze for several seconds. The look on her face was indecipherable and it was making him uncomfortable again. He hated people staring at his body, which was a notable side effect from his younger days that he had never fully gotten over.
“Hey,” he said to get her attention. “Quit staring.
“Oh,” she blinked, “was I? I was just thinking.”
“About my body?” Josh tried to make a joke out of the situation but it fell flat.
“Actually…yes.” The stylist put down the gauze and lightly placed her open palms against Josh’s hips, framing the incisions he had made between her thumbs and forefingers. He frowned a little, unsure of what she was doing.
“What-“
“Shh…,” she said quietly, stopping him before he could say any more. “Just shh…”
By now Josh was incredibly uncomfortable and he hated every second he had to stand there in front of her like this.
A minute went by and she removed her hands, but not before looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please stop…”
Josh’s stomach twisted and he quickly pulled his clothes back up into place as he turned to his side to hike the side of his pants down so she could get to his hip. He leaned over, letting his arm rest along the counter, then put his head down on his arm. He stayed this way the entire time she worked on his hip. He jerked his body a couple of times whenever she would touch a spot that was particularly painful, just as he had done while she worked on his stomach, but in general, this was much less traumatic.
It took him a full thirty seconds to realize that she had patted his leg when she was finished just to say that he could stand up and straighten out his clothing again.
Throwing away the trash and putting away the unused gauze and peroxide, she stood next to him and unlocked the door. “We’d better get out of here before someone comes looking for us or thinks we’re doing more than just cleaning you up.” He nodded and opened the door.
Stepping out into the front lounge he stood in one spot, unsure of where to go from there. Luckily for him, his stylist took charge and directed him back to the back lounge.
Mike, Matt and Ian were all sitting around in a tight circle talking quietly when Josh and the stylist opened the door and walked in. Josh bent to pick up the shirt he had dropped earlier and tugged it on over his head, trying to stop the shivering. The only clue left of the circumstances was the smudge of dried blood around Josh’s eye that they had forgotten to clean up.
The second the two of them walked in, the rest of the men closed their mouths and watched Josh. They looked from him to the stylist and she shrugged to indicate that she didn’t really know what to say. “Everything ok?” Ian asked, genuine concern in his voice.
“I know you were talking about me,” Josh said, ignoring the question. “It’s ok. I’m used to it by now.” He folded his legs under him as he sat on the seat furthest away from the rest of the boys and pulled his blanket around his body. He leaned his head against the wall and stared at the same missing speck of paint that Matt had absent-mindedly been focused on earlier.
“Hey, we’re worried about you. There are other things we’d like to talk to you about. This is just a lot of information all in one night, you know?” Matt stated.
Josh ignored that statement as well, never moving and never speaking.
The stylist took a seat between Josh and Mike and sighed. Even though Josh wasn’t watching, he knew they were all back to silently talking about him, conversing only through a shake of a head or some eye blinks. He didn’t care. He was so tired. SO tired.
The stylist reached over and took Josh’s hand under the blankets. He didn’t respond at all, but she used this to tell when he had fallen asleep. “Guys,” she said quietly, once Josh had drifted off. He was exhausted in every possible way. “We’ve got a problem. There’s obviously more going on than he’s telling us so far, and we’ve gotta do something to help him. It’s lucky that you aren’t playing a show tonight because I truly don’t think he’d be up for it. He’s been able to fake it so far, but he doesn’t even have the energy to walk from here to his bunk right now.” She gestured to the sleeping Josh with her free hand.
“She’s right,” Ian said shaking his head slightly. “This guy…what are we gonna do with him? We’re right in the middle of the tour and we have fifteen other places to play before we even think about heading home to get him any kind of professional help. I’m also not sure it’s fair that we force him to play the shows when he’s like this.”
Josh moaned a little in his sleep and everyone looked at him. In his sleep, he pulled his stylist’s hand tighter against his body and she had to move closer to him to be in a more comfortable position. “I don’t know what you guys are gonna do, but somehow we need to figure out a way to help him. We might be able to do it ourselves if we can figure out what to do.”
The guys all nodded at her suggestion but Mike had a look of confusion on his face. “Mike?” Matt questioned.
“I hate to bring this up, but if Josh can’t play a show or if someone notices these cuts on his body, how are we gonna explain this?”
“To who?” Ian asked.
“Well…right now, the five of us sitting in this room are the only ones who know about the problem, right? So what if one of the other three people on this bus notices? What if the press catches a photo of an awkward angle? What if the fans notice? What if he’s bouncing around on stage or gets his clothes torn off during his infamous crowd surfing again? We have to be so careful to keep this between us.”
Ian, being the sensible one, spoke up first. “The crowd surfing is easy. We just won’t let him do it. He can’t get his clothing ripped off if he doesn’t put himself in that position. As for bouncing around on stage, that’s tougher. He doesn’t sit still when he’s confined to a small space, but give him a stage and he’s that much worse. We’re gonna have to rope him in there, too. Basically, until this tour is over, we just became his babysitters.”
Josh was a grown man, but he needed his friends now. They might not have wanted to go to such lengths to keep his problems from the public, but they would because it meant saving their friend from more hardships than he needed to deal with. “Operation Help Josh is now in full swing, you guys. Now we just have to divvy up the shifts.”
Mike, Matt and Ian all looked at the stylist. Matt narrowed his eyes a bit, not quite understanding what she was saying.
“What I mean is, I can’t watch Josh on stage and neither can Ian, sitting behind that drum kit. But Matt, you and Mike can because you flank him on either side. You can rein him in and remind him that he needs to be a bit calmer. Do whatever it takes. Screw up, grab the back of his shirt, box him in…anything you need to do. “
“Yeah, we can do that,” Mike agreed. “That’s entirely possible. Josh might get sick of it and pissed off, though.”
“So what? What’s he gonna do? Fire you? The worst that’ll happen is he’ll be all irritated and annoyed for a while, but he’ll get over it. We’re doing this for HIM.”
“Yeah, we’ll work on it. Mike and I will work something out, for sure. Some kinda hand signals or something,” Matt joked. Mike smiled at that, but it really wasn’t a bad idea.
“How are you gonna be able to help?” Ian questioned her.
“Well, Josh and I talked about this in the bathroom. Fuck that sounds awkward… But what I agreed is that if he wanted and if it was ok with you three, I’d be his babysitter at night. You guys know I sleep about as well as Josh does, so if I have to stay up all night, it’s no big deal. I’d rather you guys be able to sleep and get some rest for the shows. I also agreed to let Josh sleep in my bunk if he ever needed to. Again, if that’s cool with you guys. It’s nothing more than a ‘security blanket’ kind of thing. I swear.”
“It’s a little weird, but I’m fine with it,” Matt said shrugging his shoulders.
“Same here.” Mike spoke quietly, looking at his feet. It was a weird situation to have on the bus, but it almost seemed necessary and he was willing to do whatever it took to help his friend.
“Ian?” she asked, “Are you cool with this?”
“Hey, I’m fine with whatever you wanna do. But once Josh is over this whole thing, will you do the same for us?” He smiled.
“If this works, you betcha. Any time any of you need a snuggle buddy, come find me.” She smiled back, knowing that none of them would probably ever take her up on it, but all was fair in love and rock.
The guys all smiled and chuckled a little at that, but secretly they each thought they may someday need her hugs if they were having an off day. It was nice to have someone other than a group of men on the bus to go to. It was also nice that they could count on their stylist if they needed to talk, rather than making a phone call home to someone who was not only thousands of miles away, but occasionally an entire country away.
“I hate to break this up, but I’m falling asleep here.” Ian stifled a yawn behind his hand.
“Me too,” Matt stated, yawning widely after watching Ian. “We can all get a few more hours of sleep before we pull into wherever we’re headed. We can’t postpone the interviews, though, so unfortunately we have to get Josh up and around for that.”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ve got the first Ramsay Watch shift.” The stylist looked at her watch.
“Are you sure?” Mike asked standing and heading for the door.
“Positive. I said I’d take care of the night time shift and by my watch, it’s only about quarter of six. The moon is still up and everyone would still be in bed otherwise. So, go! All of you guys go back to sleep and don’t worry about us. We’ll be ok.” She waved her free hand toward the door.
“Thanks,” they each mumbled as they filed through the door toward their own bunks. Mike grabbed her free hand and squeezed it quickly on his way out. “If you have any trouble, you know where to find us, ok?”
She smiled at him and nodded. “Thanks, but we’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I promise to come find you if anything comes up, though.”
Once Mike was satisfied that everything was ok, he shuffled off to bed, closing the door to the back lounge behind him.
It wasn’t until the door was closed that the stylist turned to Josh to wake him up. In one of those rare moments of perfect timing, the bus hit a rough patch of road and jarred Josh awake. His head bounced off the wall he was leaning against and he groaned quietly.
“Ugh…I haven’t been through enough tonight?” he mumbled.
“Josh?” The stylist called his name quietly. He jumped, completely having forgotten that she was there. He looked around, unsure of his surroundings.
“What?!” He pulled his hand from hers and rubbed his eyes after tossing the blanket from his body, while trying to make sense of things. That’s when the last couple of hours came crashing back to him. He dropped his hands to his lap after brushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Shit…”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “shit.”
“Did I dream all of this?” Josh gestured to his belly and his arm.
“Sorry, darlin’, but no. Everything you think happened really did happen.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah…”
“So, what now?” Josh finally voluntarily turned to look into her eyes for the first time that night.
“Well, the guys and I have a plan.”
“You’ve been talking about me like I wasn’t here?” he questioned.
“Well, kind of. Do you wanna hear this or not?” She turned to sit “Indian-style” facing him again.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Ok, well, the plan that we came up with isn’t exactly complicated, but we decided that we wanted to keep you and this situation from the press, the fans or anyone else that might find out. Savvy?”
He nodded. “I really do wanna keep this just between us if at all possible. I know I was open about my past before, but now…” He stopped himself, thinking a bit before continuing. “Now I just feel like there’s some things you need to keep for yourself. Maybe not let everyone in on it.”
“I understand. We all do. That’s why we want to help you. It’s why we want to protect you. We also want to protect you from yourself.” At that, she looked into his eyes to see if what she was saying was getting through to him. His eyes clouded over but he had to admit that he had brought that on himself, and honestly, he didn’t really trust himself these days anyway.
Josh sighed but agreed. “Ok…how?” He was mindlessly running his fingers over the seam of his pants. He never could seem to sit still.
“The only ones who can keep you safe on stage are Matt and Mike. Ian sits behind his kit the whole time and he can’t exactly give you signals to take it easy since you rarely look back at him anyway. So Mike and Matt have promised not to let you get carried away and do any crowd surfing until you’ve healed, just in case you forget and throw yourself into the audience.”
Shit. Josh hadn’t thought about that. It was one of the things he was known for.
“The guys also aren’t gonna let you do too much bouncing around on stage. If you really wanna hide this, you can’t have your shirt riding up too much, you know?”
Josh moved to unfold his legs and stretch them out in front of him. “That’s all well and good, but the problem isn’t being on stage,” he said after a few minutes of silence. This was dangerous territory. He was about to admit what had been getting to him over the last few weeks and he was scared. It was an awful feeling, admitting that he felt like hell, but he owed her some answers, even if she wasn’t pressing him for them.
“No? I kinda figured that kept you busy enough that the cutting and suicidal thoughts weren’t on your mind during those times on stage. What does get to you?” She felt timid about asking, but she wanted Josh to talk. She knew she was possibly treading on thin ice, but he seemed to want to tell her and she was certainly going to let him.
He flipped his hair so it fell back into his eyes. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but seemed to change his mind each time and tried to redirect his thoughts so they made sense before he said anything. “Has…was there ever anything in your life that you ran from, only for it to catch up with you later?” He posed the question to her in such a way that it made her think back to her own past.
It took the stylist a few minutes of flipping through her own mental filing cabinets before she realized that yes, she had things in her past that she was still running from, even though she thought she had made peace with them years ago. “I can honestly say…yes. I’ve got some things I’m still running from even now. Is that what’s going on with you?”
Josh stared down at his feet and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I told you all about the bulimia and the heroin and all that shit earlier. I also downplayed the drinking and the addictive personality stuff. It just…doesn’t take much for me to really gravitate toward something and become obsessed with it, whether it’s a habit or a hobby…whatever. And the truth is, after some of the previous shows, the guys from some of the other bands we’re touring with talked me into hanging out with them after a show in a bar. They wanted like…a designated driver or at least someone with a clear head to get them back to the hotel. I don’t drink these days, so I agreed. Big mistake…”
He pushed himself off the seat and stood, stretching his body and raising his arms until his palms touched the ceiling, revealing the recently cleaned cuts along his abdomen. Then he paced back and forth a bit, just to clear his head, which wasn’t easy to do on a moving bus, but somehow he did it. “So we get to this bar, right? And the guys are all ordering drinks. I’m sitting there with a fucking glass of water and they’re all drunk enough to start in on me for being the only sober one. Hello?? Addictive personality. What did I do? I can’t fucking remember because I’m told I ordered about eight shots of…something until I was nearly blackout drunk and those drunkards were the ones who had to toss my ass in a cab and get me back to the hotel. It was one fucking time, but fuck…the guilt. All I’ve wanted for three weeks now is another drink. It’s all I can do to keep myself from drinking the shit the rest of the guys have stashed up front. That’s why I’ve been keeping to myself. It’s just easier than trying to deal with the addiction all over again and it’s easier than fighting temptation. In rehab, they taught us that we have to be ok out in the ‘real world’ being surrounded by temptation, but this isn’t the ‘real world’. This is catering and getting anything we want just because of who we are. It’s so fucking easy to slip back into this shit…so easy.”
He stopped pacing and she noticed that he was running his hand along the forearm that he had taken his razor blade to. She was sure it was just a subconscious thing to do, but it really showed her where his head was. Josh slid his sleeve up a bit and immediately shoved it back into place.
She wasn’t sure if he was done speaking, but she took a chance. “So all of this is because you had a couple of drinks one night several weeks ago?”
He knelt down in front of her and shoved his sleeve up again before laying his arm across her lap. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?”
“No, Josh, I don’t. You aren’t really giving me much to go on.”
“This,” he said gesturing to his arm and giving her yet one more visual, “is all because I feel so fucking desperate. And guilty. The need…the craving…I can’t get out of my own skin. It’s killing me. Everyone wants my time, everyone wants a piece of me and I have nothing left. All of this is because I can’t take it anymore. I can’t fucking do this. I used to be able to disappear when I was younger. I could just…go off and do my own thing. Get high, get drunk…whatever…and no one would notice until I got back. But now there are so many eyes on me all the fucking time that I couldn’t even sneak off if I wanted to. I’m trapped. I’m trapped on this bus, I’m trapped in this life and I’m trapped inside my own fucking head. I can’t stop this.”
Josh looked down and studied his arm. He seemed to have a fascination with looking at the bloodied roadmaps he had made on his body.
“Josh,” the stylist said quietly, “I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. I wish I knew what to say to just make all of this go away, to make everything all better. I wish for so many things. I wish I could go through all of this for you.” She reached out and lightly touched his arm for the third time that night. She traced her fingers over the deepest lines and he flinched a little at her touch.
Josh’s voice was thick when he spoke. “Do you know, that even after all these years, you’re the first person who’s ever said that to me?” She removed her fingers from his arm and took his hand. She slid off the seat to kneel on the floor beside him. She wanted to be on even ground.
“I said it because I meant it. I wouldn’t lie to you or say something I don’t mean whole-heartedly.” She fixed her eyes on a small spot of stained carpet in front of her.
“I have a hard time believing that,” Josh said, pulling his hand out of hers and tucking his arm in close to his body while sitting back. He crossed his legs to get more comfortable.
“Why’s that? I’ve never mislead you.”
“I know you haven’t.” He shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie after pulling the hood up over his head. “It’s just that I don’t believe anyone would willingly go through this on purpose. I know what it’s like and I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. It fucking sucks, dude. Everything about it. My best friends…the people I’ve known all my life…even they’ve never said what you just said to me. Why would you want to do that when we more or less just met and still barely know each other?”
It was a completely valid question he was asking. Why did she?
Now it was her turn to mull over this question in her mind before answering. She knew the reason but she didn’t know how to articulate it.
“I knew it. You wouldn’t.” Josh sounded angry. She must have taken too long to answer in his opinion.
“What?!” The stylist was a bit shocked and annoyed that he would even think that.
“You had to think up an answer on the spot, didn’t you?” Now Josh had an accusatory tone to his voice.
“No. Jesus, Josh! You’ve really gotta give me the benefit of the doubt here. Not everyone is as good with words as you are, you know? The truth of the matter is that yes, we haven’t known each other all that long. And yes, we don’t know each other all that well yet. But as of tonight, I’d say we probably know each other as well as we possibly could, wouldn’t you?” She had shifted her body so that they were facing each other.
“I guess so, but you seemed to care long before that. Why?”
“Have you always been this paranoid?” She answered his question with one of her own.
Josh jerked his head up to look at her. “No. Ever since the addiction…you just don’t know who wants what from you. Same thing with the band. People only want to know you because you have something they want. Hard to trust anyone, you know?”
“I get it.” She cleared her throat and sang a couple of lines from one of his songs to him. “Everybody wants a piece of you/Everybody takes a piece of me…”
Josh’s eyes widened. “Hey! Not bad. You’re full of firsts tonight. No one has ever tried to sing my songs back to me before. I’m told it’s too intimidating.”
She smiled. “And it is! But I’m willing to look like a fool because I’m trying to prove a point to you. I do care about you, Josh. For some inexplicable reason, I feel drawn to you. Not in some weird romantic way and not in a fan-girl “I wanna have your babies” kinda way. There’s just something about you that makes me want nothing but the best for you. Don’t get me wrong. I feel the same way about the rest of the guys as well! But I think knowing part of your history was so rough for you really makes me want to protect you. As stupid as this may sound, all I’ve wanted to do since we started talking a couple of hours ago was to hug you and not let you go. I just want to fix all of this for you. I never want you to have to go through any of this stuff again. You’re too special. You’ve already put in your time in hell. It’s time that you got to enjoy life instead of struggling with it. I don’t want you to be lost anymore.” This time, the stylist had tears in her eyes as she met his eyes. Between the two of them, they hadn’t been dry-eyed in three hours.
Josh played with the tongue ring inside his mouth for a while. She could hear it clicking against his teeth sounding like a rhythmic metronome. She wished he would just say something. She had poured her heart out to him and she was worried that she had crossed the line of professionalism.
Quietly, after several moments, Josh spoke. “I believe you. Everything you say.”
“Good,” she said matching his tone.
“…I relapsed tonight…,” Josh said for the first time out loud.
“Yes you did, darlin’. But you know what? We’re gonna get you through this time. And if it ever happens again, we’ll get you through that too. Take a chance on us. We all care about you.” The stylist wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.
“Now what do we do?” Josh turned his body and stretched his legs out in front of him.
“There’s still about three hours until you and the guys have to do your radio interviews. I suggest you get some sleep. If you wanna be ‘on’ for the audience, you’ll probably need a little rest, right?” she suggested.
“I guess. I’m drained. Don’t know if I’m tired enough to sleep, though.”
“Give it a try?”
“The truth is, I don’t wanna be alone tonight,” he admitted. His eyes stayed focused on the holes ripped in the knees of his pants, but he held an open palm out to her and she took his hand. She liked the rough feeling of his skin against hers. It was nothing but another comforting move for him, although it made her happy as well. The closer she was to him, the easier it was for her to watch out for him.
“Remember what I promised you earlier? If you want sleep, I’ll stay with you. The guys are all ok with it, although I think they were pretty weirded out by the whole idea.” She laced her fingers through Josh’s and rested their hands on her knee.
He laughed a little. “They would be. But…um…” He decided to turn things around on her and sing lines from his songs to her this time. “Take me with you, I’d start to miss you, take me home, I don’t wanna be alone tonight…”
She smiled. “Hey, keep that up and you may get to be a decent song and dance man yet,” she teased.
“Oh, burn. Sweet, sweet burn! It hurts!” Josh mockingly grabbed his chest with his free hand and slouched back against the seats. “Right where it hurts.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. It seemed that as long as his mind wasn’t dwelling on the problem at hand, he was right back to his usual self.
“Well, Mr. Song and Dance Man, what say we get a little sleep? Interviews start early these days and then we’re back on the road around one in the afternoon, so you can sleep again then if you like.”
“Sounds like a plan, I suppose. How do we go about this?”
“Because I’m exhausted and my mental capacity has worn extremely thin, let’s just fall into your bunk and call it good. We’ve gotta leave the curtain open, though. I don’t want anyone getting any weird ideas.” The stylist stood, yanking Josh to his feet.
“Sure thing.” Josh yawned loudly as they headed up toward his bunk. She grabbed her pillow and tossed it in before crawling in first and squishing herself against the wall to make room for him. He fell in beside her in his typical fashion.
“Umm…no. This isn’t gonna work. You’re way too close to my ‘no area’ here,” Josh said, motioning to his crotch.
“Well, I can’t move any further away. Face the opposite direction and keep quiet or we’re gonna wake everyone else up again!”
Josh huffed at her suggestion because he didn’t sleep very well on his opposite side, but it would be way too awkward to sleep this way, bumping noses and…other things any time the bus hit a rough patch of road.
He rolled over until he was facing the hallway and closed his eyes. With her in here with him, it was warm enough that he wouldn’t need a blanket, which was fine with him. He didn’t need the guys assuming anything. He was already dealing with enough as it was.
As awkward as she felt sleeping in this bunk with Josh, she knew it was doing more good than not for him and the thought put her at ease. Heat was radiating from Josh’s body, which kept the bunk warm and extremely comfortable. She was able to fall asleep fairly quickly. Exhaustion knocked her out cold once her eyes closed.
Josh, on the other hand, lay awake for a bit longer, listening to his stylist breathe slowly in and out behind him. The rhythmic inhaling and exhaling calmed him. He hadn’t quite realized how tense he had been this whole time until he was able to lie down in his bunk and just rest. He could still feel his heart pounding in his chest, but the heavy guilt feeling of keeping the secret was gone. As it turned out, he was right about a certain line he had written in one of his songs. “Hurts the same when nobody knows, guess that’s just how it goes…” No matter how humiliating it was and how guilty he felt, whether people knew or not, he still felt better for having talked about it. Maybe he could get some sleep tonight after all.
He needed his stylist to be a bit closer to him, though. Just having her there with him was more than he could have asked for, but he still felt…what was the word? He thought ‘scared’ covered it, but ‘worried’ might have been more like it. To solve his problem, Josh inched backwards a bit until he was nearly pressed up against her. That was better. The fact that she was methodically breathing in his ear was the calm steadiness that he needed. It was like a slow drum beat or the extremely slow beat of a heart. Something he could relate to, anyway, and he felt safer. With this new-found sense of temporary peace, he drifted off to sleep, drained of every ounce of energy he had left.
What felt like only moments since she had crawled into bed, she was being forcibly awakened by soft murmuring way too close to her head. She had only gotten approximately an hour and a half of sleep in the last forty-eight and she was already extremely irritable before her eyes even opened. The stylist tried to zero in on what was being said. She could hear a male voice asking, “…think they slept like that all night?”
Another responded, “I found them like that when I got up to piss a few minutes ago.”
Both voices sounded mildly amused, but she had no idea what was going on and in her still sleep-deprived state, she couldn’t even figure out who was talking or where she was. She slowly opened her eyes and found a head full of blue hair obscuring her vision. The stylist blinked several times, but still couldn’t figure out where she was. Why was she not in her bunk? And why was this man squishing her against the back wall? Even more importantly, why was her arm around him?? She had a brief moment of panic and sat up, only to smack her head on the underside of the bunk above her. Her own bunk, she remembered. How ironic.
The faceless voices were coming into vision now, and there were three of them. Two must have been the ones she heard and the other was simply a gawker. They each stared at her with a different expression ranging from confusion to one that said, “stylist and singer sittin’ in a tree…” Now she remembered. Fuck.
She shook Josh and he mumbled something in his sleep that sounded suspiciously like, “Fuck off, I’m fuckin’ sleeping.” She shook him again and without opening his eyes, he flung an arm out to swat whoever was disturbing the rare sleep he was getting.
“Josh!” the stylist whispered rather loudly. “Get. UP. UP! AWAKE! We have visitors.”
“From another planet?” Either he was still dreaming or he was starting to feel like himself again. Whatever the case was, it was way too soon for that kind of sass, so she pinched the back of his arm.
“Fucking OW, dude! OW.” He sat up and cracked his head against the bottom of the bunk as well. This day didn’t start out any better than the night had been. It was just one long string of clusterfucks. The only thing that drew his attention away from his throbbing head and the bruise already forming on his arm from the pinch was the laughter of the three men standing around his bunk looking in at them.
“Uhh….,” Josh started, glancing at them. “Morning?”
“I guess it is,” said Brett, the band’s tech.
Josh turned to the stylist and said, “Well, I guess we’ve been found out.”
“We can’t even discuss this until you brush your teeth,” she said, shoving Josh away from her and covering her own mouth.
Brett nearly doubled over with laughter. “Honeymoon’s over, eh guys?”
Josh and his stylist looked at each other. It was do or die time. And she couldn’t make that kind of decision without coffee.
“Josh, you wanna handle this?” the stylist asked as she pushed her way out of the bunk past Josh and headed to the bathroom. Mainly it was to escape the uncomfortable staring and questions, but also because she wanted to clean up. She just felt like she’d been hit by a truck, but wouldn’t get a chance to shower until after the interview when they had a rented hotel room for that exact purpose. At least she could make herself a bit more presentable while keeping her distance from the rest of the guys.
She felt a little bad about leaving Josh holding the bag like that, but all of this was for him and he’d have to help out a little too. While she brushed her teeth, she could hear the sounds of a group of men laughing, so whatever story Josh concocted, it wasn’t the truth.
The stylist took as much time in the bathroom as she could, brushing her teeth twice and combing her hair in three different ways before deciding she had to emerge from the bathroom.
The second she opened the door, Josh ducked in and it was her turn to face the music. She had no idea what he had told the other three men, and she didn’t want to screw up the story, so keeping her mouth shut was her first priority.
Taking a deep breath, the stylist held her head high and walked right by the group gathered in the small kitchen area. She and Josh could still be sleeping if it wasn’t for that bastard Brett waking them up. No wonder it felt like they hadn’t slept for very long, she thought at she glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. Matt, Mike and Ian were still sleeping so that meant she could grab a change of clothes out of her bag and change in the back lounge if she hurried.
Sticking a foot onto Josh’s bunk, she hopped up into her own. They each had a little ‘carry-on’ bag sized space where they could store things. She grabbed her clothes from her bag and jumped back down. As an afterthought, she pulled her pillow from Josh’s bunk and tossed it back up into hers before sliding the curtain shut.
High-tailing it to the back lounge, she hurried to strip out of the clothes she felt like she’d been wearing for days. Her luck fell through when the door opened and she was only half-dressed. At least she chose to wear cute underwear today instead of the ragged things she had on prior.
“Josh,” she yelped, yanking her t-shirt on over her head.
“Jesus! I’m sorry. Fuck! The guys said you wanted to see me. They just didn’t tell me I’d be seeing you too.” Josh laughed and turned to the side so his stylist could put her pants on without an audience. Outside, he could hear Brett and the other guys laughing at him realizing that he had been duped.
“Ok, fair is fair. NOW we know each other as well as we possibly could.” She zipped up her jeans and sat to put her socks and shoes on.
Josh turned back to face her and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the door. He was still smiling. “Sorry about that. But, yeah…I guess we’re pretty even now. I’m glad I have a chance to talk to you, though. First, thanks for staying with me last night. It helped more than you know. I can’t promise I won’t make a habit out of it, but I’ll try to let you have your space. Second…umm…the guys out there,” he unfolded his arms and gestured to the door behind him,” they all think we sorta fucked last night.”
“I figured that much,” she said tying her shoe without looking up at him.
“Here’s the thing. I didn’t correct them.”
That got her attention. She stared up at him. “Are you fucking kidding me, Ramsay? Are you serious?? Tell me you’re joking.”
He was playing with his tongue ring again. It was something he did any time he was nervous or had to think on his feet. “No joke. It was that or tell them the truth.”
She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was insane! “Ramsay! You could have told them ANYTHING. And this is what you chose to let the guys believe? Jesus. You could have told them I got completely wasted and crawled into your bunk by mistake.”
He stood quietly for a minute, staring at the floor. She realized what she had said and instantly regretted it. It sounded like she was throwing his own issues back in his face and that was definitely not what she was trying to do. “I could have,” he said quietly, “but that wouldn’t have put you in a very good light and I didn’t want to do that to you. Not when you have to maintain some sort of professional integrity.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. I do. But this doesn’t help. Instead of them thinking I got a little drunk, now they all think I’m playing favourites and sleeping with the lead singer.” She didn’t know what to do. She almost couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Josh, you realize that now we have to lie about two things, right?”
“This isn’t my fault!” He was starting to get panicked all over again. This wasn’t at all the first time he’d ever had to lie about something personal. He had gotten good at it- a little too good. He really did make a great liar. The problem was that now he had involved someone else. Four other people, in fact, now had to lie for him. He hated this. He ran a hand over his healing forearm subconsciously.
“Ok, ok…we can deal with this.” His stylist had caught his gesture and knew she had to be the voice of reason, even if it was her name on the line now. “What we have to do is catch Matt, Mike and Ian before Brett and the other guys do. We have to let them in on this. At least the guys only think we slept together and not that we’re dating or something. Great, now I’m just a tramp.” She leaned back against the seat and sighed.
There was a knock on the door and it started to open, which threw Josh off balance. He fell against the wall as Ian walked in. “So, you slept with him and beat him up?” he asked, looking at the stylist. She couldn’t tell if Ian was joking or not, but she went with it.
“You wouldn’t know it, but I’m a very violent person.”
Josh laughed and braced himself against the wall to combat the rocking of the moving bus. Ian walked in and sat. He looked at Josh, then the stylist, who was busy shoving her old clothes into her hamper bag. “So, what’s all this I’m hearing from Brett? I knew it was a weird situation. Josh, your sex life is yours, but c’mon, man…not on the bus.”
The stylist kept herself busy and refused to look at Ian. Josh looked guilty, but spoke. “No, Ian…it’s not like that. We were just fuckin’ sleeping. We kept the curtain open so no one could accuse us of anything. I really thought I wouldn’t sleep at all, so I could just sneak out and be up before anyone else. But I actually slept and fucking Brett got up and found out. So, I lied my way out of it. I had to.”
“Man, we were already gonna lie for you. Now it’s twice as much work. Josh, you have to come clean about something here,” Ian said, shaking his head. “This is all too much.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll figure it out. I just need some time.” Just as Josh spoke, the door opened and in walked Matt and Mike.
Matt looked irritated and Mike looked exhausted. “Brett woke us up,” he offered by way of explanation. “Something about the two of you screwing each other’s brains out last night?”
The stylist sat back, crossed her legs, folded her arms across her chest and glared at Josh. “See what happens? Now even the rest of the band believes this. FIX THIS, JOSH. FIX IT NOW.”
“What’s she talking about?” Mike asked as he and Matt found seats. Matt yawned. No one had gotten much sleep last night and it was still too early for anyone to be awake.
Josh took a deep breath, hating having to explain everything for the third time. “The truth is that nothing happened. We did exactly what she said we were gonna do.” He motioned to the stylist who was still shooting him daggers. “We just slept. But Brett woke up early and caught us in the same bunk and made some fucking assumptions, so I just went with it. I couldn’t think of anything else that wouldn’t give us away.”
“Josh, you know we love you, but man…we’re lying for you. Don’t make us lie about this too. This is all too much.” Mike shook his head and leaned back.
“I know. Look, I’ll take care of it. I’ll figure it out. I just need some time.” He felt more and more guilty every time he had to explain.
“Figure it out soon, Ramsay. I’m not gonna let Brett and those guys think I slept with you for very long.” The stylist didn’t have enough energy to be angry for long. But she also didn’t have the patience to let anyone believe something about her that wasn’t true.
“I’m sorry, ok? I’ll fix it.”
The only one dressed for the day was the stylist, and she didn’t have anywhere to be. Matt spoke up. “It’s only about half an hour until we have that first interview. The driver said we should be there in about fifteen minutes, so we should probably get ready.”
The guys were no strangers to changing clothes in front of one another and usually all changed in the back lounge together, if pressed for time like they were now. But that meant sending the stylist out to deal with Brett and the other two men on her own. She sighed and stood up. She put a finger against Josh’s chest and stared up at him. “Fix this.” Then she opened the door and walked out.
“Dude,” Mike said smiling, “you’re lucky. Very, very lucky.”
“I know,” Josh said. There weren’t many people who could put up with his shit. He seemed to find the needle in the haystack when it came to his stylist. He hadn’t known her at all when the gang hired her and everyone was lucky that she was who she was.
Josh, Ian, Mike and Matt followed her out of the room long enough to dig through their clothes, then they headed back to the back lounge. She stood near the small sink in the kitchen area and watched them. In her head, she was silently willing Josh to turn around, come back out and explain everything, but she knew it wouldn’t happen any time soon. Instead, she made herself a cup of coffee and parked herself at the table to drink it. Seconds later, there was Brett sitting across from her with his own cup of coffee and questioning eyes. A small smirk tugged at his mouth and she wanted to slap him, but it wasn’t his fault.
Brett continued to stare at her until she finally set her mug down on the table. “Ok, what?”
“So…,” Brett started, his smile widening, “what’s he like?”
“What??” She was sure she knew what Brett was asking, but she couldn’t believe he even wanted to talk about this.
“What’s sex with the high and mighty superstar like? God, I hope he sucks so I have something to hold over his head later when he needs to be knocked down a peg or two.” Brett laughed and looked over at the other two guys seated on the couch about two feet away. They both smiled but looked away when she turned to glare at them too.
“Are you really asking me this? Seriously? And are you actually expecting me to answer you?” She was getting angry. Brett may have the wrong impression, but now he was taking things too far. She might have just been “one of the guys” at first, but now things have changed and not for the better.
“Of course I am! This is the funniest thing to happen on tour yet. “Rockstar Sleeps with Stylist- Sucks in Bed”,” said Brett, motioning with his hands as if quoting a newspaper article title.
“Ugh…” She was so close to snapping. Instead, she took one last sip of coffee, stood up and dropped her mug in the sink before stalking to the back of the bus just as it pulled into the parking lot of the hotel where they had their rented room.
She knocked twice on the door to the back lounge and heard each of the four members of the band talking at once. “Hang on!” “We aren’t ready yet!” “Give us a minute.” “Not yet!”
“No, I’m coming in now so hide anything you don’t want me to see.” With that, she turned the doorknob and walked in, shutting it behind her.
Josh was just stepping into his pants when she walked over and shoved him backwards onto the seat. His pants fell back down to his ankles and he raised his hands to cover his face as if she would actually have hit him. She had never shoved anyone like this before, but here she had done it twice in a period of six hours. This was not a good thing for her and she reminded herself to keep that in check in the future. This, however, was the present and things needed to be said.
“Do you know what the fuck your tech just said to me?” she asked, angrily.
Matt was buttoning up his shirt, but stopped long enough to look up at her. Ian zipped up his pants, and then turned to face her. Mike was sitting to put on his socks and shoes, but paused when Josh fell next to him. “What did he say?” Ian asked. God only knew, knowing Brett.
“That fucking dick just asked me how Josh was in bed. This is getting out of hand now and the day just started half an hour ago. I don’t know how much longer I can take this without snapping his neck. Or yours, Ramsay. Put your pants on and go fix this.” She took a step back from him and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything else.
“I can’t! Not yet! Not now” He looked at Ian, Mike and Matt for support, but they were all on the stylist’s side. They didn’t like having to lie about this either. She shouldn’t have been brought into this, even if she was the one who had agreed to keep Josh company at night. It was partially her fault for getting that involved, but she shouldn’t have to have lies spread about her.
“Ok. Not now,” she said quietly, in a serious voice that actually made Josh a little nervous. “That’s fine. Although maybe you’d rather turn your little fabrication into the truth?”
Josh started playing with that damn tongue ring inside his mouth again because he just didn’t know how to respond to her question. “Is that what you want, Ramsay? DO YOU?”
As quickly as she asked, suddenly she had a knee on either side of his body and was straddling his lap, kissing him. His immediate reaction was to put his hands against her sides, but then realized what was happening and he broke the kiss. “Enough! Enough. I’ll tell him right after the interview. I promise.”
She stared into his eyes, searching for the truth. She believed him, but only because she didn’t know what else to believe. “Fine. You’d better.” She put one foot on the floor and shoved herself off Josh backwards before putting her other foot down. “Remember how uncomfortable this was. Especially in front of these guys.” She motioned to the rest of the band who all stood watching with different reactions. “Remember how much I know and how much I could tell everyone I meet. Also remember that I wouldn’t do that, so you owe me the same respect.”
He nodded and she turned to leave the room, slamming the door behind her. He let out a breath before lowering his hands to his sides. Ian was the first to speak. “She’s right, man. You can’t put her through that.”
Matt grinned. “What’s up?” asked Mike grinning back. “Finally, someone else on this tour bus is more awkward than me.” Mike laughed and finished putting on his shoes.
Josh hadn’t said a word but uttered, “fuck…” as he stood to finally pull his pants up.
“Yeah, fuck,” Matt said. “But…uhh…how was that kiss?” He grinned again at Josh.
“Shut the fuck up,” Josh said smiling. “Don’t be like Brett.”
All the rest of the boys could do was smile because Josh had just gotten told off and he lost the game. And they were there to see it happen.
After everyone finished getting dressed, they headed up to the front of the bus to eat some form of breakfast before they were off to the first of three interviews for the day. Josh could feel the eyes of Brett, the tour manager and the publicist on him as he knelt down in front of the fridge to grab his signature choice of caffeine before standing again. He rolled his eyes before standing and turning around to face them. Popping the top on the can, he gulped it fast enough to make his eyes tear.
Setting the can down, he zipped up the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing. “What’s with the tears there, buddy? Already missing your soulmate?” Brett teased. Josh had already had enough, but he didn’t have time to set Brett straight yet. He was also feeling incredibly guilty that his stylist had to deal with this when she shouldn’t have to. The tour manager and publicist laughed, which just angered Josh. He grabbed his soda can and an apple from the bowl on the counter and went back to eat in his bunk without saying a word.
The light was on in the stylist’s bunk above his and her curtain was drawn. He badly wanted to say something to her, to apologize, to say he understood why she had gotten so angry, to tell her how much he appreciated what she had done for him and her patience with him…but he couldn’t. He threw himself into his own bunk and shoved the apple between his teeth so he could close the curtain with his free hand. He ate his breakfast in silence and sulked, thinking about what he should do about the whole situation and how he could change it for the better without giving himself away.
Minutes later, he heard the publicist yelling from the front of the bus that it was time to leave. Sighing, Josh finished his soda and swallowed the rest of the apple before shoving himself up out of his bunk and dropping the trash into the can. He had to hype himself up for the day because he certainly wasn’t in the mood to deal with people.
The rain hit Josh’s face the second he stepped off the bus and he wiped the drops off his eyelashes as he ran to catch up with the rest of the band, who were now nearly under the overhang of the hotel. They had three interviews scheduled to do today, all of which were for local radio stations that were going to be meeting them here in a press room. After that, they had the luxury of being able to shower quickly in a hotel room that had been rented just for them for half a day. It was a miserable day and as cliché as it was, it matched his mood. Being from the location in which he was raised, he was no stranger to the rain and it seemed to make him less homesick. He did his best thinking in weather like this, so maybe he could figure out a plan after all. Up until now, he had nothing.
She watched through the bus window as the band entered the hotel. She loved the boys, but she needed a break. And she needed a shower. She knew there was a hotel room already rented for them and she knew that they wouldn’t be using it until after the interviews were done, so she decided to take advantage of it and shower first. Grabbing the room key and yet another set of clean clothes, she ran to the hotel and found the room. She quickly showered and dressed as if her life depended on it.
Unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out, she walked face first into a male chest. Josh. All she wanted was an hour’s worth of peace. “Don’t you have an interview to get to?”
“Yeah, but the rain held them up…traffic,” he said, somewhat apologetically. “So I had the same idea you did.” He held up his clothes to show her that he wasn’t lying. “But you weren’t on the bus when I ran back to get my stuff and the bathroom door was locked, so I put two and two together.”
She nodded. “Well, enjoy.” She stepped around him and walked toward the door to leave the room.
“Wait,” Josh said putting a hand out to touch her shoulder. “You’re really mad, aren’t you?”
“You bet your ass I am, Ramsay. Mostly I’m just…angry at myself. I should have known better than to lie for you or to hide things from anyone for you. It always gets me into trouble. It sucks when you know better.” She turned to face him. “Believe me, I want to help you, but I’m not convinced that hiding all of this is worth it for you or for anyone.” She reached up and took his hand off her shoulder. “I really want you to set everyone straight. Ideally, I think it would be in your best interest if you told the rest of the guys what happened. They’ll understand.”
“NO!” Josh backed up and tossed his clothes onto the bed. “Do you know what would happen if I told them, especially those guys, about this? DO YOU?”
“Aside from the fact that they’d want to help you? No, I don’t.” She hung her bag of dirty clothes on the door handle and stepped past Josh into the center of the room. “Tell me. What would be so bad about it?”
“As if it’s not bad enough dealing with this as it is, it’s in my fucking contract that if things ever got bad for me again, I get sent back to rehab and a “behavioural health clinic”,” he said using his fingers to make air quotations. “At my fucking age! That’s what would be so bad. Not only that, though…”
Josh sat on the edge of the bed and crossed his legs. “I’d be letting everyone down. Tours would be cancelled. No income for the band. The fans would find out…and like it or not, as egotistical as this sounds, they look up to us…to me…and I can’t let them know I’m back to doing this all over again. All of this just fucking sucks. I did it to myself, I know it. And it’s not fair to ask you and the guys to hide everything for me, but it’s the only way I know to stop everything else from happening. If you can think of a better idea, let me know because I’m tapped out.” He stood and gathered his clothes, leaving her standing alone in the room feeling like shit. The last sound she heard was the bathroom door closing and locking behind Josh.
She grabbed her bag and headed back to the tour bus. As she walked up the stairs, she shoved her dripping wet hair back from her eyes. “FUCK!!!” she screamed out loud to herself as she threw her clothing bag down the empty hallway. It bounced off the door to the sleeping area and rolled back toward her a bit. She dropped down onto the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest, adopting the way Josh sat. She leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes.
She must have dozed off because she was woken by the shaking of the bus due to a dozen feet climbing up the stairs. Everyone was freshly showered and was feeling pretty good. Josh was the last one on the bus. He walked straight past her, stepping over her laundry bag and crawling into his bunk. Mike sat down at her feet and subtly shook his head at her. Very quietly he said, “Josh isn’t feeling so well…” Her eyes widened and she gestured to her wrist. Mike shrugged to say that he didn’t know if Josh had taken things that far again or not.
“Shit…” she mouthed back at Mike. He nodded and ran his hands through his curly wet hair before wiping them on his pants.
Matt and Ian were standing at the sink making coffee. “How were the interviews, guys?” she asked, trying to make conversation.
Matt and Ian looked at each other before answering her. “Well…Josh never showed up for the first one. He made it for the other two, though. He never told us where he was,” Ian said, taking a sip of coffee.
“I ran into him in the hotel room,” the stylist said quietly so Brett and the other two men couldn’t hear her.
Unfortunately for her, they did. “Oh, so that’s where he was! Couldn’t keep your hands off each other, eh, kids?” Brett laughed at his little joke, and this time Matt, Mike and Ian gave him looks that made him turn around and head to the back of the bus to play some video game with the other two men for a while.
“Sorry,” Matt said. “Josh is gonna tell him. He doesn’t break promises if he can help it.” She nodded and blinked a little, trying to avoid tearing up in front of them. She felt bad about what she did to Josh, kissing him to make a point that morning, especially after everything he told her in the hotel room. She was afraid that she was the cause of everything he was dealing with all over again this morning.
Matt and Ian sat at the table across from them. “So, what happened in the hotel room?” They were all speaking as quietly as they could, even though the door to the sleeping area had been closed by Brett as he walked back. There was no one in the area but the four of them.
“Did you guys know that it’s in Josh’s contract that if he relapses, he’s to be immediately sent to rehab and/or a behavioural health clinic for the rest of tour?” she asked, unsure if she should be divulging that information or not.
Mike’s eyes widened and Matt shook his head. “We’ve never discussed anything like that, but I guess it’s better for Josh that he gets help.” Ian spoke with certainty.
“And it is,” she said. “But the truth is that he’s worried about letting everyone down. You guys, fans, his family. It’s not just that he’s embarrassed that he fucked up this one time after so many years. He feels responsible too, in addition to feeling guilty for all of this happening again.” She stared down at her lap and twisted her rings around on her fingers. “And I yelled at him.”
Mike hooked her feet under his hand and pulled her legs across his lap. He patted her knee and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Josh…he’s actually a really private guy. He doesn’t seem to tell anyone everything all at once. Not until it’s necessary. And it seems like that’s what he’s done here. Unfortunately, you got caught in the middle just because you wanted to be a good friend and help.”
“I should go talk to him.” She started to move her legs off of Mike’s lap, but he pinned her in place.
“Wait…maybe just give him a little time to think. He’s got a lot going on that he’s gotta figure out. Stay here and talk with us for a bit. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to hang out with you.” He smiled that charming smile of his and she couldn’t help but to smile back.
“Ok, that sounds like a good idea. Aside from the first hitch, tell me how everything went with the interviews.” She settled back in, putting her elbow on the back of the couch, then rested her head on her hand to get comfortable.
“It actually all went pretty well. Matt had this great one-liner to some question that we’ve been asked a million times before. God, what was it, Matt?” Mike could barely ask the question without laughing. Ian chuckled to himself and Matt had turned a light shade of pink just because he never enjoyed being the center of attention.
“I can’t even remember,” Matt said, grinning. “It was some, like, Twitter question or something. People are always asking what our favourite animals are…stuff like that. Just trying to get to know us, which is cool, but boring. I know the question was something like that but I can’t remember what it was.”
“Oh! Wasn’t it something like, “if you could be an animal for a day, what would you be?”” Mike reminded Matt.
“Oh yeah! Right.” Matt laughed, remembering the joke and his answer.
“So, Matt answered as only he could,” Ian said, looking over at Matt, who was gesturing for Ian to keep talking. “Matt was like, “well…I’d be a mice because…I…like cheese…”.”
The stylist looked over at Matt and smiled. From there, she laughed so hard that she had tears in her eyes. That set the rest of them off all over again. “A mice??” she was barely able to get out.
“Tour makes me stupid!” Matt shoved his hair back with his hand and ducked his head.
“Oh, lord…that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in days. I love it!” The stylist was trying to calm down, somewhat unsuccessfully. Finally she sighed and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “That was great, Matt!”
He laughed again and said, “Yeah, there were some pretty good moments.
“Good.” She smiled at them. “I know you guys have all said how bored you can get with these interviews. It’s awesome that you’re all so quick-witted that you can come up with that kinda stuff as easily as you do.”
Ian cracked a smile. “With Matt, it’s not that he’s quick-witted. He’s just that awkward. And tour-stupid.” That brought out the laughter from the group all over again.
All Matt could do was duck his head and nod while laughing along.
“God, Matt, you’re one of my three favourite people in this conversation.” She smiled at him and he blushed all over again. “I needed that. Thanks.”
“Any time you need awkwardness and stupidity, let me know.” Matt grinned at her before taking another drink from his coffee mug.
Just then, the door to the sleeping area opened up and Josh walked out. He glanced in their direction but went straight into the bathroom without saying a word.
Mike folded his hands and laid his arms across the stylist’s legs. “Maybe someone should try to talk to him when he comes back out.”
Ian looked at the stylist. “Do you wanna give it a go again or should one of us try this time?
“I feel like I’m doing more damage than not lately, so maybe one of you guys should do it this time.”
“You’re sure?” asked Matt, turning in his seat to face her. “You and Josh got pretty close. He wouldn’t have talked to you if he wasn’t comfortable with you.”
“No, I’m sure. I think I’m pushing him too hard. He really doesn’t know me that well yet and it’s gotta be hard to have someone like me just walk into the middle of all of your lives and then dig up dark secrets. One of you guys should give it a shot.” She was sure that would work out better for all involved.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” suggested Mike.
The stylist could hardly believe the boys were basing such a huge decision on this game. But, they were never ones to do anything the ‘normal’ way.
Everyone balled up their fists and counted, “once, twice, three, shoot!” Matt lost to Mike and Mike was relieved that he didn’t have to try to get on Josh’s good side. Matt and Ian had to shoot again. Matt then lost by a landslide to Ian, who gloated outwardly.
“Looks like you’re it,” the stylist said. She almost felt sorry for Matt, having to pick up the slack because she had screwed things up so badly.
“Umm…yeah. Guess so. Anyone wanna try this again?” he asked. As well as he knew Josh, this was such a touchy subject and he was already awkward enough on a good day. Plus, he felt like he had already been through this with Josh once before when they were kids. He didn’t want to do it again. He would, though, because that’s what friends do. Now he just had to wait until he got a chance.
The four of them all exchanged glances. Josh was taking a long time in the bathroom. Unless he was sick, he should have come out by now.
Ian tilted his chin towards the bathroom door in a motion that told Matt to go check on him. Matt shook his head. “No. Not gonna do it.”
“I’ll go,” the stylist said. “Matt, it’s ok. I started this. I shouldn’t be putting you or anyone else in the middle. I know we all talked to him last night, but I feel responsible for Josh’s attitude today.”
She swung her legs to the floor and stood up. Straightening her clothes, she took the few steps over to the bathroom and knocked. All eyes were on her as she called his name through the door. “Josh?” she said a second time after a few moments of waiting.
“Go the fuck away,” was his response.
“You ok?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
“You sure? I need to talk to you.”
“Fuck…come in, then.” She heard the sound of the lock click on the inside. Looking back at Mike, Ian and Matt for support one last time, Ian waved her in. If she wanted to talk to Josh, it would apparently have to be on his terms.
When she reached out for the doorknob, her hand was shaking. She couldn’t hide the fact that she was nervous.
The second she stepped into the tiny bathroom, she knew why Josh had been in there for so long. “Shit! MIKE!” She stuck her head out of the room and called for the bassist. Stepping over Josh, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the sink, she dropped to her knees beside him and pulled his arm across her lap. She held her hand over much deeper, very fresh razor gashes. With her free hand, she reached into the cabinet to grab the medical kit and find the gauze.
Mike appeared at the door with Matt and Ian close behind. “Fuck, Josh…”
“What happened?” Matt asked.
“Jesus…” uttered Ian, sticking his hands into his pockets.
Josh’s arm was a bloody mess, as were his clothes. For the second time in less than twelve hours, they were all faced with the same problem. The singer looked more pale than he had before, but she wasn’t sure if that was her imagination or not.
Mike was on his kneels on the other side of Josh opening the gauze. Ian and Matt stood by helplessly and watched. “Josh, man…you still with us?” Mike asked.
Josh nodded. He hadn’t lost that much blood. It looked worse than it was this time, luckily. But still, he felt light-headed and leaned his head back to rest against the sink.
The stylist had Josh’s arm bandaged up in minutes. Without thinking, she brushed her hair back out of her eyes, leaving a bloody streak trailing from her nose to her forehead.
“Guys, what are we gonna do now? We can’t hide this. Not anymore. This is way too serious,” she said, anxiously. Josh pulled his arm back from her lap and laid it across his stomach.
“No. It’s fine. I’m ok.” He tried to stand, but only succeeded with Mike’s help.
Mike turned to Matt and Ian. “You two go kick Brett and the other guys out of the back lounge. Have them go double check on our equipment or something. For now, we need to get Josh back there.”
Ian nodded and the two of them took off for the back of the bus. Mike inched into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. With the three of them in there, they barely had any breathing room.
The stylist stood after cleaning the blood splatters off the floor and getting rid of all the evidence. Josh leaned back against the counter just like he had the other night, and instinctively, Mike and the stylist put their arms around him in case he was getting too woozy to stand. He brushed them off and shook his head.
A minute later, they heard footsteps go past the bathroom and there was a knock on the door. Matt’s voice came from the other side. “They’re gone, let’s go.”
Josh stayed silent but walked out on his own. He allowed himself to be led to the back lounge when the stylist took his hand. Mike followed closely. Ian was already back there holding what was to be a third set of clean clothing of Josh’s for the day.
They filed into the room and Matt closed the door behind them. Josh sat, leaving his three band members and stylist standing before him, staring at him. He pulled one leg up to his chest and put his chin on his knee.
“Josh, what gives? You can’t keep doing this. Not only is this, you know…bad, but it’s really starting to scare us.” Ian had spoken his piece and sat as well, leaving room for the three others to eventually sit. Josh remained silent, completely ignoring Ian.
“Guys, would you give us just a minute? I’d like to talk to Josh alone. Just for a bit. Then you can all come back.” The stylist decided it was time that she made good on talking to Josh like she said she would before she found him bleeding in the bathroom.
Ian stood. “Ok, we’ll be right outside. Just knock when you want us.” They left, closing the stylist and the lead singer alone in the room.
She walked over to where Josh sat and knelt down in front of him, placing her hand on his knee. “Josh, look at me.”
He took his time, but eventually he turned his head and looked down at her. “I’m so sorry,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Josh narrowed his eyes at her.
“I never should have pushed you to come clean to Brett. I should have just dealt with it. I knew what you were going through and I should have been way more understanding. And I embarrassed the fuck out of you in front of the guys this morning with that stupid kiss. Jesus, Josh, I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault.” She moved her hand just long enough to wipe her eyes before putting it back on his knee.
“Not your fault,” Josh said fingering the bandage on his arm, which featured a few dried streaks of blood, presumably from her hands as she fixed him up.
“No?” she asked. “I pushed you into this!”
“The fuck you did. I did this before you ever knew about it. Don’t be a fucking martyr,” he said angrily.
“What? No! I’m trying to apologize. I feel like making you talk to me just made things worse.” By now she was confused. This wasn’t going well at all.
“No. Believe it or not, I’m glad you and the band know. Just don’t wanna tell anyone else. I already explained why. Just the thought of that…” He shook his head and looked away from her.
“So that’s what this is about?” The stylist asked, leaning her head forward and placing it on top of her hand, still on Josh’s knee.
“Yeah,” he said. “I got scared. I got worried. I panicked and did the only thing I could think of.” He reached out his hand and smoothed her hair back. It was the first time he had ever initiated a comforting gesture toward her and it made all the difference. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for scaring you guys.”
“Josh, we’re all tired,” she said looking up at him again. “We’re all worried about you and we all wanna help. But you have to work with us. Please. You know we’ll do anything for you, but you really have to try a little more, too.”
“…or you’ll slap me like a bitch?” he joked.
Recognition registered, she smiled. “And you’d take it like a whore.”
Josh laughed. As sick as he was of hearing some of his own songs after so many years and so many shows, he loved when people got his references and could recite lines back to him.
“All joking aside, Josh, please…you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Talk to us if you’re feeling weird. Grab any one of us at any time. The guys and I, we’re here for you. We care about you. I know I keep telling you this, but it couldn’t be more true. You have to trust us. I know I’m asking you a lot when I ask you to trust me because we’ve known each other for all of about a month and a half now, but you’ve known those guys out there for a decade or better. Hell, you’ve known Matt for half your life. We all wouldn’t be fighting this hard for you if we didn’t care.” She stood up and sat on the bench seat next to him.
“You’re right. I know you’re right. I know you and the guys care. The problem is…I dunno… I guess the problem is that I have a hard time telling everyone everything. You’re all finding this stuff out in bits and pieces, you know?” He was drumming his fingers on his leg as he spoke. “You’re finding out what’s going on as it’s happening to me. Unfortunately, I guess my actions are a better portrayal of who I am than the words I may speak. I’m sorry for that.” Josh flipped his hair back out of his eyes.
She patted his shoulder and stood. “Ian left clothes for you to change into. You’re a bloody mess yet again. Change really quickly and then I’m gonna get the guys back in here. They need to hear this and we all need to talk.” She stood facing the door with her back to Josh so he could strip out of his clothing and put on the clean gear. She heard his belt jingle as he buckled it up to tie the outfit together. Then the stylist heard the unmistakable sound of leather squeak as he sat down again.
“Done,” he said.
“Ok, I’m gonna pull the guys in.”
Josh didn’t stop her. She was right again. He watched as she knocked on the door a couple of times, letting the rest of the band know it was time to come back in. She took the seat furthest from Josh this time because she had already heard his story and she didn’t want the others to miss anything when he started explaining again.
Once the boys were back in the lounge and seated, Matt leaned forward to look at Josh. “Ok, we’re all here again. Wanna fill us in on what’s up? In FULL this time?”
Josh glanced up and over their heads to his stylist who nodded encouragement at him. “I’m told I do.” He pulled his other leg up and rested his chin on his knees. He seemed to do this whenever he felt threatened or upset. Now he must feel like he’s standing in front of a firing squad. The stylist really felt for him, but he owed the band an explanation.
Josh took a deep breath. “Do you guys remember a few weeks ago when you couldn’t find me after the show and it turned out that I had gone to hang out with the other bands on the tour and didn’t come back until, like, super late that night? Ian, I think you and I were sharing a hotel room that night.”
Matt shrugged, as if it was fairly typical of Josh to take off after a show. Mike and Ian nodded, though, and wanted Josh to keep talking.
“What I never told you guys is that I spent the night in a bar,” Josh continued cautiously.
“So what? We’ve all gone to bars after shows before,” Mike stated.
“Yeah, but when was the last time you saw me drink?” Josh asked pointedly.
Mike’s eyes widened. “Oh…you know…it’s been years.” Ian and Matt agreed when he looked to them for confirmation.
“Well, that night I ended my sobriety streak. I fucked up. I got completely wasted. Blackout drunk.” Josh put his feet on the floor then crossed his legs.
“Ok, you had one bad night. That’s not so bad,” Ian said, trying to make Josh feel better.
“It’s not?” Josh asked sliding the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal the bandages. He pointed at them. “This…this is the result of my relapse. This is all because now I can’t stop craving that shit. This is all because I’ve had to keep to myself or risk drinking every alcoholic thing on this god damn bus. This is all because I felt so fucking guilty about everything and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it. I couldn’t even tell you guys because you’d never understand.” He pushed his sleeve back into place to avoid staring at the bandages any longer. All he wanted to do was rip them off and tear into his skin again. He wanted that almost as much as he wanted to drink that entire bottle of whiskey that was sitting out on the counter behind the sink in the kitchen. None of the guys had ever struggled with any of this, so they couldn’t understand what Josh was dealing with.
Matt stood up and paced the length of the small room, which equaled only about three steps. Stopping in front of the stylist, he turned to look at his friend. “I can’t believe you thought we wouldn’t understand or even TRY to. This is just un-fucking-believable. How long have we known you?”
The only response Josh had was, “I’m sorry.”
“Not what I asked, Josh.” Matt said, taking a step toward him.
“Ok, ok. I’ve known you since I was 16.”
“That’s twelve fucking years! And you REALLY didn’t think I’d understand? Especially after going through this with you once before? I know how hard it was for you back then! I didn’t know the extent of everything, but I know you had it rough. And I was there every step of the way, wasn’t I? As much as I could have been for the amount of times you let me in on what was up?” Matt was getting angry, which was rare for him too.
Ian put his hand up to Matt. “Hang on here.” He turned to Josh. “You didn’t think you could trust us? After spending this much time together over the last ten years?”
“No!” Josh stood too. “I never said I couldn’t trust you. Not once. I just…I felt guilty. I didn’t know how to explain it. I felt like putting a label on it would make it…I dunno…that much stronger, I guess. I didn’t think anyone would understand how that felt. None of you guys have ever had to deal with any of this before.”
“Except me,” the stylist said quietly. It was the first time she had spoken since the band had come back into the room. Everyone turned to look at her. Matt took a step back to give her some room as she pushed herself up off the seat. She motioned for Matt to take her place for the time being, and he reluctantly took her spot on the couch.
Josh made a face like he couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Is this for real?”
“You heard me. Ironically, of all the people on this bus, you told me what was going on with you first and I’m the one that understands the best. You didn’t know that, of course, having just met me only a couple of months ago. Remember last night you asked me if there was ever anything from my past that I chose to try to run from?”
Josh nodded. “I remember.”
“And you remember how I told you there was?”
He nodded again. She looked at all of the others in the room who weren’t there for that conversation. “I’m still running from this,” she said as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pulled her shirt up over her head, letting it dangle from her hand at her side. This revealed old and faded scars that ran across both of her upper arms.
If the boys could stand in their underwear and sing to thousands of people each night, she could stand in a bra in front of the guys she had come to know and love while exposing her own secrets.
She opened her eyes when Josh put his hand out and ran his fingertips lightly over the scars of her left arm. Then he stepped in front of her and did the same to her right arm, as if not quite believing it was true yet. She watched him carefully, letting him touch the darkest part of her history. He was studying her in the same way that she had studied the wounds across his stomach. Now she understood his intense discomfort. Now she was there, living it.
The stylist stood in front of the band. She had never, not once, shown her scars to anyone before. She always kept carefully covered because she never wanted to explain what was no one else’s business. But now she chose to share her story with the four men in hopes that it would help. She wasn’t trying to top Josh’s own stories or downplay what he had been through. She simply wanted him to know that she understood better than he realized. It was her last resort, and only because she was now legitimately worried about losing him.
Josh moved off to the side and turned to face the window with his arms crossed over his chest. He said nothing, which she had expected. He hadn’t exactly said a lot about the whole situation anyway.
She tied the sleeves of her shirt around her waist just for something to do. Matt, Ian and Mike had yet to say anything either, although none of them had taken their eyes off of her. Now she knew how Josh felt standing up here the night before and showing off his own scars. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. She shoved her hands past her shirt and into her pockets while she waited for someone to say something. The stylist didn’t want to get dressed again until she was sure no one else wanted to take a closer look.
Mike cleared his throat and she looked over at him. “Um…,” he started, obviously a little embarrassed at even looking at a half-naked woman standing in front of him that wasn’t someone he was dating or working with in a video.
The stylist smiled at him just to let him know it was ok. “Mike?”
His return smile was strained at best. “Yeah…umm…”
She tried to read his body language and his thoughts to help him out. “It’s ok to look,” the stylist said gently.
Ian shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’ve seen enough of this stuff lately.” His eyes moved over to Josh, who had stiffened up at the remark, even though he still hadn’t turned around.
The stylist nodded. “Perfectly understandable, Ian.” She turned to Mike and Matt. Matt looked uncomfortable at the idea, but maybe also a little curious. She raised her eyebrows at them.
Slowly the two men stood and took the steps toward her. Only once did she see each of them drop their eyes to her chest, which she also expected. She rolled her own eyes but stood still while Mike and Matt inspected her arms. When they were satisfied, they looked at each other, seemingly reading each other’s minds. They then wrapped their arms around her in a group hug. Ian got up from his seat, tapped Josh once on the back and found a way into the embrace. Josh, however, did not. He was frozen in his spot.
The stylist hugged the men back. Mike whispered in her ear, “thank you for doing this. We love you. And don’t be upset with Josh.” She shook her head a little. “I’m not,” she barely whispered in response.
Slowly the three men let go of her and she untied her sleeves and pulled her shirt back over her head. She shook her hair back into place and glanced over at the lead singer.
“Josh?” It seemed like she spent most of her time trying to get his attention. He either seemed to enjoy avoiding her or he kept getting lost in his own thoughts. She wasn’t sure which was correct at the moment.
He turned to face her finally. “Nothing to say? Nothing you wanna know?” she asked. She was fully open to talking about her past if anyone wanted to discuss it.
Josh shrugged his shoulders and shook his head before sitting back down. “Really? Nothing at all?”
“No,” he said quietly.
“Ok, how about you guys?” she asked Ian, Mike and Matt.
Ian popped the gum that he had been chewing. “I guess the obvious question is…are there more?”
This hadn’t been at all planned, but somehow he had asked the exact same thing that she had asked Josh the night before. My god, had it really only been last night? At that question, Josh’s head snapped up and he looked at Ian, then at the stylist.
“Because Josh was so honest with me and with all of you, I will be too.” She sighed. This required more undressing. “Yes, there are more.” Her hands went to her belt and she unbuckled it as well as unzipped her jeans. Sliding them down her hips to her knees, she blushed to a deep shade of pink. Somehow this was more embarrassing than being topless.
This time, she kept a careful eye on Josh. The minute her pants came down, his eyes went to the floor. Her upper thighs rivaled her upper arms. Both were equally covered with matching scars that had once been as fresh as the ones on Josh’s forearm now.
She let the other three band members have a quick look before yanking her pants back up and buckling her belt. “These four places were my go-to spots. No more, no less,” the stylist said, squeezing back in between Ian and Mike on the couch.
The room was silent for a bit. No one seemed to know what to say to any of this. It was such a touchy subject and such a hard one to start talking about. No one knew quiet where to start.
Finally Josh spoke. “What happened?” He was so quiet that she almost didn’t hear him.
“What happened?” the stylist repeated. He nodded. “In a nutshell, my childhood home life absolutely sucked. I had a horrible relationship with my father and my mother nearly drove me insane by either not believing it or not wanting to hear about it. I could escape to school, but the home stuff was all emotional and mental, so there were no bruises to show off. I did well in school, but what do you do at the end of the day when the place you’re running from is the one place you have to go? I mean, if you’re bullied at school or something, you can fake sick for a day. You can’t fake sick to avoid going home when that last bell rings.” Her voice dropped, but she continued on. “At age thirteen, I was told by my paternal grandmother that my father never wanted kids and that as the first born child, I came along and ruined his life. Suddenly, that explained everything. All the prior abuse made sense. Suddenly, I knew why I deserved it. Before, I always felt like I had done something to deserve the way I was treated and the way I felt, but I never knew what. Now I had it all figured out and it was my little secret to keep.”
She looked around the room at the boys. Ian had his hands folded across his stomach and he was shaking his head. Mike had leaned forward with his hands clasped in front of him, and Matt sat staring with his eyes focused on some invisible spot on the floor.
Then she looked at Josh. He was furiously wiping at his eyes and nose. He cleared his throat once, then a second time. “I don’t know how to word it, I just started to deserve it…” he very softly whispered. All she could do was nod, and she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned back against the seat. She stared at the toes of her shoes.
From his perch on the seat across the room, Josh sniffed loudly. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s ok. Thank you. It was a long time ago. I’m pretty much past it. I just keep running from it and only talk about it when I have to.” She looked up at Josh and caught his eyes. “Or when I want to.” She refocused her gaze on her shoes again.
Ian made a move to put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer to him. She unfolded her arms and patted his knee before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek for being so supportive. Mike took her free hand and held it. “We’re all sorry you had to go through all of that. Just so you know, you didn’t deserve any of it.” He looked up at Josh. “And neither do you.”
Matt finally pulled his eyes away from the carpet. “Mike is right, you guys. You’re both beating yourselves up way too much.” He added an afterthought. “Emotional stuff…”
“I don’t know about you guys, but after this, I could use a bit of a breather.” Ian checked his watch. “We have about half an hour until we roll out of here again and I think I’m gonna go take a walk.” He squeezed the stylist’s shoulder before letting her go and standing up to stretch.
“That’s a good idea. Want company?” Mike asked, letting go of her hand and standing too. Ian gestured at the door in an ‘after you’ motion. Matt gave the stylist a sympathetic smile and followed the two of them out the door, leaving her and the lead singer alone yet again.
Sitting in silence drove her crazy. She had to say something. “So…” It was all she could come up with.
“Fuck…” Josh responded rubbing at his eyes. They were so red, but she didn’t know if that was from lack of sleep or from crying or both. Probably both, she decided.
“Yeah, deep stuff, these last few hours.” She rubbed her own eyes and crossed her legs. She was emotionally and mentally drained. It had been a really long week and an even longer twenty-four hours. The stylist was thinking of getting some sleep when suddenly Josh was next to her with his arms wrapped around her. She slid her arms around him too. Josh was full-on sobbing to the point of near hysteria. He could barely catch his breath.
“Shh…Josh, it’s ok. Just breathe. You’re fine. Can you hear me?” He nodded a little and gasped a couple of times before holding her tighter. The stylist rubbed his back and rocked him a little while murmuring quiet words to him. “It’s all ok. You’re fine, everything will be alright. I promise.” She didn’t know what had sparked this sudden flood of emotion in him, aside from thinking that it was simply a matter of everything hitting Josh all at once. He had broken down a couple of times since last night, but not like this. This worried her, but at least she was there and he wasn’t alone.
He mumbled something into her shoulder, but she couldn’t understand. She started to let him go, thinking that’s what he was asking. He pulled his face away from her shoulder long enough to say, “No…don’t let go. Don’t let go…” She held him a bit tighter and placed her hand between his shoulder blades. She could feel his heart pounding as it raced to keep up with his breathing. The stylist continued speaking in quiet tones, telling Josh that everything was ok. She whispered close to his ear, “Josh, listen to me, you’re ok. You’ve gotta calm down a little before you pass out again. Can you understand me?” He nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath that made his entire body shake.
His breathing started to become slow and steady after several more minutes. The stylist very slowly pulled away from him. She needed to see him to make sure he was ok. He was pale and shaking and his eyes were even redder than before. His face was tear-streaked, but he was breathing regularly again. He took another deep breath. “Fuck me…” It wasn’t a request, just a Josh-like swear that he used any time he got into a situation he didn’t know how to respond to.
She gently wiped a couple of tears from his cheek as they continued to fall from his eyes. “You’re ok, darlin’. Everything is fine,” she said again as she pulled him in for another hug. He laid his head on her shoulder and nodded.
For the first time since all of this had come out, he felt almost safe. The weight was gone from his chest and he could breathe again. No more secrets, no more hiding things. Everyone knew and everyone had proven that they were on his side. She grabbed a pillow from her opposite side and laid it on her lap. “Lie down and get comfortable?” she asked Josh quietly.
He was so tired all of a sudden. She caught him yawning before he realized he was doing it. She was sitting far enough away from the wall that he could stretch out without being cramped. He shifted his body to lie along the seat and put his head on the pillow on her lap. She placed one hand on his side and softly smoothed Josh’s hair back with her other hand. Josh yawned again and closed his eyes.
“Can we talk…just for a little bit?” he asked his stylist quietly.
“Of course. Anything you want.”
“Is all of this why you freaked out when I walked in on you changing earlier?”
“Partly. I hadn’t really planned on showing everything off. Plus, I didn’t expect to be walked in on,” she explained.
“How did you get through it…?” Josh asked, somewhat cautiously.
She knew he was talking about her past. “My little secret is that at age sixteen, I was…let’s say…ready to end the misery. There was something left in me, though. I had turned everything off. I was numb for so long. My only emotion was anger. But I took that, and after cleaning up the mess I had made of myself, I chose to stick around for the single purpose of pissing off as many people as I could because I felt like everyone else knew my secret about being an “unwanted kid”, but no one would come clean to me about it. So it was sort of my way of retaliating and making things just as hard on others as they had made it for me. I put away the knife and went straight into bitch-mode. I was sarcastic and snotty and had even more sass than a tall, lanky douche sleeping on my lap does.”
Under her hand, she felt him silently laugh a bit. “In the end, though, I really just worked things out. I had distractions. I had a friend who killed himself and a group of us really had to be there for one another. That’s what really shook me and brought me out of all of that. And Josh, that’s why the four of us are working so hard for you. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”
The stylist kept talking, even though Josh had fallen asleep. Eventually she could feel his deep, steady breathing under her hand and she leaned her head back against the seat. She could feel tears prickling behind her eyes. It was the first time she had cried over her own problems since they were happening. She quickly shut her eyes and tried to calm herself. She wiped at her eyes a couple of times before taking a deep breath. She was ok. She was beyond this. She had her distraction again this time, and he was sound asleep with his head on her lap.
The stylist looked up as the door opened slightly. An eye peeked in at her and it crinkled in what she could only assume was a smile, hidden behind the door. The male figure behind the door pushed it open a bit further and, still smiling, gestured for her to come back out of the room. She pointed to Josh and held her hands up in a shrug. Mike motioned again for her to come meet him outside. She nodded and very slowly slid out from under Josh, leaving him to sleep in peace.
She walked out and closed the door behind her. “What’s so important?” she asked him.
“We really just wanted to make sure you guys were ok,” he said leading the way up to the front lounge. She noted that Brett and the other two men were nowhere to be found.
“Oh, they’re in their bunks,” Mike said when he noticed her scanning the room for them.
He sat at the table and she took the spot across from him. Ian and Matt sat on the couch opposite the table and stared at her. “Is he ok?” Ian asked, referring to Josh.
“I think he will be,” the stylist said. “We just really sorta have to stick to him like glue, but he’ll be ok.”
Matt, not one who usually liked to get involved in sappy, emotional conversations, decided to voice his opinion. “Hey, um…thanks for doing all of this. You know, for being there for Josh. It’s not that we wouldn’t have been, but he seems to feel pretty comfortable with you around and we appreciate that.” Matt crossed his ankle over his knee and slouched back. “Josh usually tries to kinda put up a front with us. You know how he is. But with you, it’s sorta like you can see past that and he must feel like he can’t hide shit.”
The stylist smiled a little. “I’d do the same for any of you guys. It’s not just Josh. I hope you all know that.” The three of them nodded and stood to wrap her in a big bear hug once again. She laughed. “Enough! I can’t take the emotions!”
The men chuckled and sat back down again. “Do you think Josh is gonna be ok to play the show tomorrow night?”
The stylist thought. “I think…we’ll have to ask him about that. I know he’s exhausted, but I sorta feel like he might be ok to perform. I can’t say for certain, though.”
“What are we gonna do about Brett? We’re back to that whole problem now, too.” Mike brought up a good point. Brett still had to be told.
“I’m gonna go take care of this now,” the stylist said, standing. “I’m not gonna tell him anything, I’m just gonna set him straight. It’s not that big of a deal, right?” She looked to the guys.
“Um…right,” Matt said.
She sighed and walked back to Brett’s bunk. Tapping on the curtain, she stepped back a bit. It slid open and he smiled at her.
“No, before you say anything, we have to talk. She knelt down beside his bunk. He was sitting up reading a book, which he promptly turned face down to hear her out.
“Whatever you think happened with me and Ramsay, it didn’t happen. That’s all I’m going to tell you, but you’ve gotta get it out of your head that I’m some sort of groupie slut or something. We were exhausted and we slept. End of story. And I swear to god, I’ll reach down your throat and yank your balls out through your mouth if you continue to think otherwise.” She wasn’t always this confrontational, but she was tired and she was sick of the assumptions.
Brett’s eyes widened and he moved the book down over his lap. “Well, since you put it that way…”
“Good.” She stood and walked back to the front lounge to sit with the band. Stopping to get a drink from the fridge, she took her seat again.
“Well, that wasn’t as hard as I expected. I only had to threaten to castrate him once.”
Matt laughed while Mike and Ian groaned. “I don’t wanna hear that,” Ian said.
The stylist smiled. “Sorry! But someone had to fix this and I felt bad about laying one more thing at Josh’s feet that I could take care of myself. So, it’s done with for now.”
The bus driver climbed the steps and looked around. “Everyone here?” he questioned.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Mike answered.
“Then we’re outta here,” said the driver, closing the door and taking his seat. He pulled the curtains closed behind him so he wasn’t distracted by their talking and shortly after, the bus was moving again.
The bus driver had a bit of a heavy foot on the brake and stopped suddenly at a light on the way out of town to get to the highway. The four of them sitting in the front lounge grabbed whatever stationary object they could get their hands on to keep from being thrown to the floor. Mike rolled his eyes as he nearly slid off the couch. Matt had grabbed onto Mike’s shoulder, which had turned out to be a bad idea. Both men righted themselves in their places quickly, but not before shooting a dirty look in the driver’s direction.
From the bunk area behind them a loud voice yelled, “Shit!” Brett wasn’t too happy about something.
Moments later, Josh staggered out of the back lounge looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. None of them had slept much over the last few days, but he looked the worst by far. He was rubbing his bloodshot eyes and yawning. There were pillow creases on his cheek left over from the little time he was able to doze.
Josh wandered up to the seat Ian was sitting in and leaned against it. “I fell off the couch. And you were gone,” he said looking at the stylist. He yawned again and covered his mouth. He looked and sounded like a six-foot-two-inch tall child just then and the group could do nothing but laugh. It was a much-needed release for all of them.
Josh frowned. “Not funny. I was fuckin’ sleepin’, man! So tired…”
The stylist yawned too, holding back as long as she could after watching Josh yawn. She checked the clock on the wall and noted the time. “None of us have slept much lately. I propose that we all crash for a while. You guys have a show to do tomorrow and it would suck to be stumbling around on stage and forgetting words.”
Josh sniffed and laughed sarcastically. “So you HAVE seen our shows.”
The boys in the band smiled and turned to Josh who was the known klutz of the group. “Probably a good point,” Matt said.
“Whether you guys sleep or not is up to you, but I have to bow out of society for just a little while or I’m not gonna be of any use to you at all,” the stylist said standing up. She stepped around Josh and walked back to her bunk, grabbing the laundry bag she had thrown earlier and kept stepping over. She tossed it up into her bunk before climbing in herself and she was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Josh dropped into the stylist’s seat across from Ian. He yawned once again and looked at Ian with glassy eyes. “Fuck…so…so tired…” He leaned his head on the table.
“Then get some sleep, buddy,” Ian said. He ran a hand across his own eyes, also feeling tired, but maybe not tired enough to sleep just yet.
“No, I’m up now,” Josh mumbled into the table.
“Well then, let’s talk,” Mike suggested. He leaned back and laced his fingers together, putting his hands back behind his head.
Josh groaned without picking his head up. “I’m all talked out. I’m fucking done in.”
“Yeah, I know. But I think we have some stuff to say to you now that we have you alone.”
“So talk.” Josh was getting a little irritated. He had nothing left.
“Collectively,” Mike started, looking around at Matt and Ian, who nodded at him, “we think you really owe our stylist friend in a major way. She’s done so much for us and she’s doing even more for you personally. She really put herself on the line several times between last night and this morning. You know?” Mike spoke so highly of the stylist because he had come to appreciate her even more after seeing what she had put herself through for Josh. Not just anyone would do that.
“I know,” Josh admitted finally looking up at Mike. “Believe me, I know.”
“She didn’t tell you…I’m sure it slipped her mind…but she took care of the Brett situation too,” Matt confessed.
Josh’s eyes widened. “She what??”
“No, don’t panic. She said she just set him straight. She didn’t tell him what really happened.” Matt set his foot down and crossed his legs in the opposite direction. He played with the laces on his boot for a bit before looking back up at Josh.
“It’s true,” Mike said, standing to walk over to the kitchen cabinets, trying to time his steps to the rocking movement of the bus to avoid getting tossed around. He grabbed a handful of crackers before stuffing the box back into the pantry. “She didn’t wanna give you away, but she wasn’t gonna let Brett continue believing something that wasn’t true.” He shoved a couple of crackers into his mouth before heading back to his seat beside Matt.
“Ugh…,” Josh moaned, dropping his head back down onto the table.
“Dude, go to bed,” Matt said.
Josh nodded, but made no effort to move. “Carry me,” he ordered.
Ian laughed, “You have GOT to be kidding.”
“I never joke when it comes to being treated like a king,” Josh said speaking to his crotch instead of the rest of the band. He stifled yet another yawn.
Mike couldn’t stand it anymore. He shoved the rest of his snack into his mouth and stood to yank Josh up and out of the seat. “Come on. You have to get some sleep before this kills you.” Poor choice of wording made Mike cringe a little, but everyone let it slide. They weren’t sure if Josh even understood what they were saying by now. Mike led Josh back to the sleeping area and tossed him into his bunk before closing the curtain. He closed the door to the bunk area on his way out and dropped into the seat vacated by Josh once he was back in the front lounge.
“I don’t know how Josh is gonna do that show tomorrow night.” He shook his head. “He’s more exhausted than I’ve ever seen him.”
“Well, we’ll have to see what happens when the time comes. If he can’t do the show, he can’t do it. We won’t force him.” Ian said, looking over at Matt, who had dozed off where he sat.
“Two down,” Mike joked. He leaned over and tapped Matt’s boot.
Matt jerked his head up and blinked. “The fuck??”
“Before you get tossed off the couch,” Mike said gesturing in the bus driver’s direction, “why don’t you go hit your bunk?”
“Yeah, I think I will.” Matt stood and stumbled back to his own bunk before falling in. He started snoring almost immediately.
After a few more minutes of rambling and talking about nothing, Mike and Ian headed off to their own respective bunks to nap for as long as possible.
It was very early on a Tuesday morning and the rocking of the bus woke her up. Groaning, she shifted a little in her bunk, just enough to wake up her numb hand. The watch on her wrist told her it was 1:37 in the morning, which meant she had been asleep for a little over twelve hours. It felt like eternity. The stylist was wide awake and had a headache from sleeping so long, but she had been incredibly tired when she went to bed and must have needed the sleep.
Sighing softly, she pushed back the curtain and lowered herself onto the floor, carefully avoiding accidentally stepping on the bunk below her so as not to wake up Josh, who she presumed to be still sleeping. She could hear someone snoring intermittently, but couldn’t tell who. It had been a long past two days and she was glad the guys were getting some rest. Wandering into the bathroom, she took care of business and brushed her teeth. Even though everyone here was pretty familiar with everyone else, she still never knew who she might have to acknowledge at this time of night, so she might as well clean up a little. Besides, she was going to be up for quite a while and it seemed like the thing to do.
From there, the stylist headed back to her bunk to grab her book, and then walked out to the front lounge of the bus to read for a while. It was rare that she had the place to herself, especially with eight other people traveling in such a small space. And from the look of things, she didn’t have the place to herself tonight either. As she walked up to the lounge, she could see one long arm draped across the table. At quarter of two in the morning, there could really only be one person who was up and around. Josh.
She put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped like a cat. “Fucking shit!” He pulled the fallen hood of his jacket back up over his head and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Dude! What the fucking hell?!” He narrowed his eyes at her a little.
“Hey, sorry! I just came out here to read. I’m over the whole sleeping thing. I didn’t know you were out cold up here. I also thought you would have heard me moving around,” she said in her defense, as she sat down at the table across from him. She sat with her back against the window and stretched her legs out along the seat, then crossed them at the ankles. “Go back to sleep. You’re way too pissed off to be awake right now and I’m not in the mood to deal with the sass, Ramsay.”
“Who pissed in your Cornflakes?” he retorted.
She set her book on the table between them and stared at him for a bit before answering. “I was fine until I came out here and you threw your little shit-fit. Just…enough. This bus is way too small to be doing this at this time of night.”
She picked her book back up again and turned to her marked page. It was all automatic. She knew she couldn’t read a word with him sitting there like that and the tense feeling in the air.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Josh stretch back out across the table and lay his head on his arm. Moments later, both the silence and the tension were broken when he lightly started tapping the cover of the book with his finger. Tap…tap…tap. It got her attention, for sure.
She looked over at him, unsure of whether he was doing it simply to annoy her or to make up with her, but the soft look she could just barely see on his face told her his intent. “Sorry,” Josh said quietly. “It’s just been a hard week.”
She nodded a little. She completely forgave him. After all, she was the one who had accidentally snuck up on him. She also understood knew that this week especially had been Josh’s own personal hell. “It’s ok. It’s my fault too. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Repositioning herself to get a bit more comfortable, she settled back in to continue reading.
She saw Josh’s hand reach up, gently take the book out of her grip and set it down on the table between them again. “Problem?” she asked as she watched him pick up his electronic cigarette and take a drag or two before setting it down again. He was trying so hard to quit smoking completely, and he was doing such a good job. But she knew he was extra stressed when he picked that up.
He moved enough to copy the way she sat with his back to the window. Then he pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees. He wrapped one arm around his legs and tucked his fingers into his shoelaces just for something to do. With the arm closest to her, he reached out across the table with his palm up, as if expecting her to take his hand. This was getting to be a common thing for him. She was simply the band’s stylist and friend, nothing more. The gesture was a bit more intimate than she had ever been with any of the guys, but it seemed to have a comfort factor whenever he was feeling stressed, so she gave in to it.
The stylist reached out and took his hand. It was shaking slightly. They sat there in the quiet, her hand resting in his, neither of them speaking. She had been staring at the opposite side of the bus, eyes fixated on cabinet door that someone had left open just slightly. She hadn’t even realized she had been staring for as long as she had. A brief movement of their hands snapped her out of her zombie-like focus and she glanced over at Josh. He had pulled the hood of his shirt up over his head even further so that his face was mostly shadowed. What wasn’t hidden in shadows was covered by his blonde and blue-streaked hair. He had leaned his head back against the window.
She squeezed his hand just enough to get his attention and he looked over at her. Untangling his other hand from his shoelaces, he rubbed at his eyes a little. She was unsure of whether he was upset or just tired. “Hey…” she said quietly, just to break the silence. “What’s up?” She raised their hands a little and motioned to this gesture.
He started to let go, but she held on a bit tighter. “No…that’s not what I meant. Is everything ok?”
He pulled his hand out of her grasp anyway and wrapped both arms around his legs, seemingly to make himself even smaller in the seat across from her. She looked down and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I’ll just go read in my bunk. I’ll give you your space.”
Quickly shifting himself around, he sat facing her, straightening his legs under the table and then layed them across hers, forcing her to stay where she was before she could move. “Oh! Well…ok…this is also new.”
“Stay,” he whispered.
“I will. But I’d really like you to talk to me.” The stylist patted Josh’s shin a little. When she looked up at him, he was staring down at the table while he played with his lighter. He fidgeted quite a bit on a normal day, but he was especially bad when there was something on his mind.
“You know how you said I could always talk to you if I ever needed to?” Josh asked, setting his feet back down on the floor.
“I do, of course.” She meant it when she had said it and she was glad to be able to keep her promise of always being there for him, or for any of the other guys in the band when they needed her.
“I…kinda need to talk now.”
The stylist waited for him to go on. “All of those cravings I was having…the drinking…the cutting…I came so close to doing both last night. Again.” He looked up at her with worried eyes, afraid he would be judged or reprimanded.
Instead, the stylist smiled at him. “But you didn’t. And I’m fucking proud of you, Ramsay. So fucking proud.”
He ducked his head and smiled. “It’s hard, though…I don’t know if I can do this. I came out here because I couldn’t get out of my head. And you were asleep…”
“Then wake me up! I don’t care if it’s four in the afternoon or two in the morning. If you need me, don’t ever be afraid to wake me up or come find me. I give you my full permission to drag me away from anything I’m doing if there’s something you need.”
Flashing that charming smile of his at her again, Josh mumbled, “thank you.”
“No need for thanks. Just make good on that instead of hurting yourself and we’ll be even,” she said.
Josh laid his body across the table again and put his head on his outstretched arm. “Do you think you’ll be able to play this show tonight?” she asked.
He awkwardly shrugged his shoulders before answering. “I think so. I think I’ll be ok. You’ll be there?”
“Hey, I have to dress you guys! I’ll be there,” the stylist said, somewhat shocked that he would have forgotten that.
“No, I mean, will you stay for the whole show? Usually you’re hanging back in the dressing room. I might need you tonight. Remember…the cuts…” Josh trailed off, sounding lost and a little scared.
“Mike and Matt have that covered. Don’t worry. They won’t let anyone find out,” she reminded the singer.
“But…,” he said sitting up and pointing a finger in her direction, “will YOU be there? Please…”
She smiled at his request. “I will. Just look for me in the wings. It’ll be fine. I promise.”
Josh draped his body across the table again and let his head rest on his outstretched arm. “Thank you.”
“Hey, there’s no need for thanks. I promised you I’d be there for you and I don’t break promises either.” The stylist picked up a lone pen from the table and twirled it between her fingers. She wasn’t always as jittery as Josh was, but some days she couldn’t sit still either.
“No…I mean…thank you. For taking care of the Brett thing and for cleaning me up and for not laughing and just…for everything. Thank you,” he whispered.
The stylist set the pen down and gently slid the hood back from Josh’s face. He tipped his head back a bit to look at her. “For you, darlin’, anything. You and the rest of the band.”
A couple more hours of rambling about anything and everything under the sun brought them to six o’clock.
Josh and the stylist were sitting at the table with an open deck of cards and two cans of what Ian assumed was Josh’s preferred soda choice when he wandered out of the bunk area. He put a hand against his stomach. “Jesus, it’s like sleeping in a rolling coffin with this driver,” he complained. “I could puke…” Immediately regretting his words, he cringed, but once again, Josh didn’t seem to notice the reference. Quickly to avoid having to explain himself, he changed the subject.
“How are you guys this morning? Get much sleep?” He stood with his back to the singer and the stylist while he poured himself a glass of orange juice and slipped the carton back into the fridge. Grabbing the counter as the bus swerved a bit, he carefully made his way to the couch and sat.
“I-,” the stylist started before Josh spoke over her.
“We’ve been up for a couple of hours. Plenty of sleep was had, though.” He shot her a quick look that didn’t go unnoticed by Ian, although Ian chose to ignore it as long as Josh seemed to be doing ok.
“Good, good.” Ian drummed his fingers on the seat beside him while he sipped his drink. “I feel like I could use another twenty-four hours of sleep, though. I know Mike and Matt were both back there snoring when I woke up. I doubt they’ll be up for a while yet.”
“Everyone needed as much sleep as possible,” the stylist said, starting to put the cards away.
Josh grabbed them out of her hand and pouted. “Hey! I was gonna show you a magic trick with those.” He turned to Ian who already had a smirk on his face. “Think of a card.”
Ian smiled a little more but humoured Josh. “Ok, now what?”
Josh shuffled through the deck and held up the ten of clubs. “Is this your card?”
Ian laughed. “No, not even close.”
Josh stuffed all the cards back into the case and tossed it onto the counter across the room. “Fucking cards. This is why my radio magic show never worked out.”
The stylist stared at Josh for a moment before she laughed so hard she cried. She leaned her forehead down onto the table and her shoulders shook. She gasped for breath. “It hurts…I can’t…” Just when she started to catch her breath, the laughter overtook her again and she was gone. Josh and Ian got caught up in the moment and laughed both with her as well as at her.
After a few minutes, she sat up and took a deep breath. Laughing a bit more, she wiped the tears from her eyes and sighed. “A radio magic show??” she gestured at Josh. “That’s fucking hysterical!” Josh laughed at her all over again before admitting that it was only a joke because otherwise it would be stupid.
Somewhere between the laughter and the calm, Mike had wandered up behind them and was looking concerned. He looked into the stylist’s eyes and knew she had been crying. A quick glance over at Josh and his exposed wrists showed that the bandage was still on, so he must be doing ok.
“Hey, everything ok?” he questioned her.
“Oh, fuck yes,” she responded, laughing all over again.
Mike broke out in a grin. “What’s so funny?”
Ian laughed. “Josh just made his ‘radio magic show’ joke to her for the first time.” The guys in the band had all heard each other’s material numerous times over the course of the years, but the funniest part these days was seeing new reactions to the stories.
Mike chuckled. “That’s a classic.” He patted Josh on the shoulder before grabbing his morning cup of coffee and taking a seat next to Ian.
The stylist stretched and straightened her arms over her head. She hadn’t realized she’d been sitting in the same spot for six hours straight until her muscles started to ache. She stood and held onto the table for balance before bending down to touch her toes a couple of times. She should really ask Matt about teaching her some yoga poses, she thought to herself before sitting again and positioning herself so that she could see Josh, Mike and Ian while she spoke with them. “So, aside from the show tonight, what’s on the agenda?”
Mike shrugged his shoulders and swallowed nearly half of his now luke-warm coffee before answering. “You’d have to check the schedule.” He motioned to the two pieces of paper that were tacked to the bulletin board several feet behind where they sat.
Just out of curiosity, the stylist stood and made her way over to the list. It looked like their day started around ten in the morning with some press stuff and more interviews. Great. The interview stuff yesterday didn’t go so well for Josh, but no one had called him out on it. The show itself didn’t start until about eight that night, which meant that they had to be in the arena by noon so the stagehands could start setting up. She, herself, didn’t need to be there until six to help the guys get ready. Twelve more hours until they really had to start watching Josh on stage.
Running her finger down the list one last time to double check, she felt satisfied that she’d read everything correctly and went back to sit with the guys. “The verdict is in. You have some interviews and press crap starting at ten, then the show is at eight.”
Mike and Ian turned to Josh, who had been strangely quiet after the ‘radio magic show’ joke. “So, Josh, are you gonna grace us with your presence this time during the interviews?” Ian asked, trying to make a joke out of the situation.
“More importantly, are you gonna be able to play the show?” Mike added.
Josh grabbed an apple out of the basket on the table and took a bite, talking with his mouth full. “Yes and yes.”
“Hey, uh…you never told us where you were yesterday during that first interview. We covered for you and just told them that you had other stuff to take care of, but I’d still like to know what happened.” Josh looked up and blinked at Matt, who had finally woken up and joined them in the front lounge. Matt reached across Josh and the stylist to take the last banana and sunk down onto the couch with Ian and Mike. He ran a hand through his hair to smooth out the ‘bed-head’ look and waited for Josh’s answer.
It was a question they all had but no one had wanted to ask…until now.
Josh took another bite of his apple and set it down. “Truth?”
“Yeah,” said Matt.
Josh sighed but he might as well be honest. “Ok, I ran down the road to that little pharmacy we passed on the way to the hotel. I had to pick up something.” He left it vague, hoping the guys would just add two and two together, but the confused look on their faces said otherwise.
He picked up his apple and bit into it again, waiting for something, anything to dawn on any of them, but they all watched him and waited for a more direct answer. He stuck his apple between his teeth and shoved his sleeve up, then gestured to his wrist dramatically. Josh saw the ‘ah-ha’ moment in each of their eyes and it physically hurt him to have to tell them that he had blown off something band-related in favour of something that could have killed him for the second time in his life.
“Dude…,” Matt said, leaving it at that.
Josh busied himself with finishing off his apple and tossed the carnage and the empty soda can into the trash near his feet. He deliberately avoided eye contact with anyone for the time being. “Yeah…I know…”
Again, the group let this go in the name of keeping everything calm before the show. Plus, it was old news, sort of.
The stylist wanted to know what Josh had done with the razor blades. She had been through the bathroom from top to bottom once and they weren’t there. Josh must have them in his possession somewhere, but she wasn’t a sneak and she refused to go through his personal things. However, the looks on the faces of the other three band members told her that they were wondering the same thing.
Very quietly and very carefully, she tried to broach the subject. “Um…Josh?”
He looked over at her with raised eyebrows. He was fairly sure he knew what she was going to ask before she opened her mouth. Josh was trying to prepare an answer in his mind that he could live with.
“What did you do with the blades?”
He quickly scanned his brain several more times and came up empty. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make things worse and worry them all even more, so he gritted his teeth and told the truth. “They’re in my bunk.” His words were stoic and matter-of-fact. No one was surprised.
Josh was so fucking tired of thinking about this and talking about this shit. He had to keep reminding himself that the people he was sitting with weren’t out to get him and piss him off. They wanted to help and he had to remember to “try a little more” and let them be a huge pain in the ass when the last thing he wanted to do was deal with his own life.
The stylist took a breath to say something else when she felt Mike’s hand on her shoulder. It was a warning to tread carefully or to stop while she was ahead and there had been no harsh words exchanged. She ignored him. It was probably a stupid move but she wasn’t known for backing down these days.
“What do we have to do to get you to give those up?” she asked knowing full well that Josh wasn’t happy with her. His eyes said more than he ever would.
“Ask…,” came his surprising reply.
She glanced over at Mike, Ian and Matt who were all just as stunned as she was. The stylist nodded at Matt, giving him the go-ahead to take over the conversation. Josh needed to know that everyone was behind him, not just the stylist.
“Before we leave this bus for the interview, will you give up the blades? Just, like, leave them here on the table or you could hand them to us. Whatever you want.” Matt awkwardly stated his idea perfectly. He had given Josh a little bit of control over his own situation instead of demanding anything of him.
Without a word, the stylist and the other three men watched as Josh stood and headed for the bunk area. Matt let out the deep breath he had been holding after asking. Mike took his hand off the stylist’s shoulder and Ian, who had been quiet until now, chose only to say, “Shit. I hope this works.”
They heard movement from the back of the bus and Brett as well as the tour manager and publicist stepped through the door.
“Josh still sleeping?” the tour manager asked, looking around and not seeing him.
“Uh, no. He went back-,” A look from Ian stopped the stylist mid-sentence.
“We aren’t sure what he’s up to,” Ian said, gesturing with his empty cup to the seat Josh had just vacated.
Brett slid in and the tour manager fell in next to him. The publicist waited until the stylist moved her legs out of the way and slid in next to her, trapping her where she sat.
She looked up to see Josh walk back out with something in his hand. Seeing Brett and the other two men, he casually slipped the object in his hand into his pocket and stopped at the fridge to get another can of soda.
“Ready for a kick ass show tonight?” Brett asked.
Josh let that infamous smile of his tug at his mouth as he stuck out his tongue to show off the silver metal stud through the center and he let out one of his signature screams that he was so well known for. That seemed to be enough to keep the guys happy. If there was anything Josh was good at beside all things musical, it was acting.
The bus rolled into the parking lot of the venue about half an hour earlier than planned and yet again, everyone held onto seats and counters to avoid being whipped around like ragdolls when the driver hit the brakes.
Mike, Ian and Matt were stoked for the interviews, but only because they knew the show would follow not that long after. There was always lots of excitement on show days. The guys never knew what might happen.
Josh, however, was getting a little moodier as time went on. He was a little more sarcastic and a little more of a douche than usual. Everyone let him be. They all assumed that he had things to work out for himself before putting on a big show for everyone and having to fake being ok. The boys and the stylist took turns checking on Josh while still trying to let him have his space until it was time to leave the bus.
As the band was walking out, the stylist stood at the kitchen sink rinsing out the coffee mugs that everyone had been drinking from earlier. Usually everyone did their own dishes, but this time they were on a time crunch and she didn’t mind. She usually stayed behind when they had interviews. She had no need to be there. Josh was the last to leave, as usual, and he caught up with her. He stepped up behind her and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Come with us?” He tried to make this look as casual as possible, should anyone see him whispering things to the stylist. She shook her head subtly. “No need,” she whispered.
“Please…come with me…” He slipped something cold, small and hard into her hand and kept walking. He hurried to catch up with the rest of the band, who were now waiting impatiently for him at the door of the building.
The stylist looked down into her hand. She turned the packet over and over in her fingers. Two used razor blades covered in dried blood and three new ones, all slipped back into the original package and taped up. At least he was trying to make it slightly more difficult for himself to open it again. She stuffed the package into her own pocket and decided that after that, the least she could do was to go watch the band’s interview. Drying her hands, she raced across the parking lot to catch up with the group.
Josh smiled when he saw her and looked away. Matt, Ian and Mike all gave her confused looks. When Josh wasn’t watching, she quickly reached into her pocket to pull the package of blades out to show them all very briefly before jamming them back down to the bottom of her pocket again. She mouthed the words, “he’s trying,” to the men and they understood.
Minutes later, the five of them were ushered into a small room in the venue that had been set up specifically for interviews with the bands that were playing there. It was a nice change from having to stand outside in the cold or sit in the bus crowded around the table. Each of the four boys took a seat at a microphone while the stylist stood off to the side and gave them the thumbs-up sign for good luck.
“Alright!! We’re here with international group singing sensation Marianas Trench! Thanks for being here in the studio, guys!” The radio DJ trilled her words as she excitedly opened her show for the evening. Not only was she happy that it was Friday, but she was extremely thrilled to have her very favourite band sitting in the studio right in front of her. She was sure they were tired of back-to-back interviews, being that they had just put out their newest record and had just started their current tour for the year, so she was determined to make this interview as interesting and different as possible. Hopefully this didn’t prove to be too difficult, but the boys were already looking slightly bored, especially Josh, who sat with his legs crossed and was playing with the frayed edges of the holes in his purposely ripped jeans.
Mike leaned into the microphone and said, “Thanks for having us!” with a smile.
The DJ grinned back at them. “So, this is going to be just a short interview. I know you have things to do and places to be today. But before we drag you in here and send you back out into the street, we’ve got some pretty good questions for you guys sent in to us from every conceivable place on the internet where we can be reached. You guys ready??” She adjusted her microphone to a better height and turned to her open computer.
“We…are,” Matt said in a monotone voice. “I think.”
“Ok, there are lots of thought provoking ones in here, so let’s see… Our first Facebook question asks, “Josh, what hair dye do you use?””
Josh lifted his head up and laughed. “Umm…whatever I can find when I’m on the road?” The guys all humoured him with a quiet laugh.
Ian leaned forward and interjected. “Sometimes he just likes to kill Smurfs and wipe their blood all over his head. It’s some kind of show of masculinity.” Josh laughed loudly and the stylist chuckled to herself in the corner. It was good to see him in his element. She never got to see this.
“It’s true, it’s true. Right after this interview, I have another Smurf slaughter planned because my hair is fading.” Josh flipped his bangs back out of his eyes.
The radio DJ scrolled through her list of questions. “Ian, here’s one for you. This one asks, “If you could trade places with anyone in the band, who would it be?”
Ian thought for a moment. “Usually I don’t get asked that question. I’m a drummer, not a real musician so if I ever changed places with anyone in the band, all I could do is stand in front of the audience and tap my foot to some random beat. Maybe I could learn to scream like Josh now and then, though. It would be like acapella metal.”
Mike laughed and added, “Now that would be a great musical genre. When we’re done with this tour, that’s the kind of album we should record next. Just Ian standing in the studio tapping his foot and screaming.”
“We could call it “Casselman’s Opus”,” said Matt with a smile, referencing the joke song he and Mike had made for Ian that one time when he had gotten severe food poisoning. The joke went over the DJ’s head, but she laughed along anyway.
“No, no, that’s cool! I’ll produce it and I bet it’ll get more radio play than “Fix Me” ever did,” Josh laughed. “Everyone loves a curly haired Gene Wilder look-alike who can scream and keep a steady beat.”
A few questions and lots of jokes later, the DJ clicked open another window on her computer. “Ok, guys, those were the fun ones. Let’s move on to the more serious ones.”
Josh shot a quick look over to the stylist, who was leaning back against the wall with her hands in her pocket. She was fingering the package of blades as if it was some kind of taboo good luck charm. She supposed it was, a little, since Josh had chosen to give it up. She smiled at him and mouthed, “It’s ok.” He nodded at her and turned his attention back to the DJ.
“Everyone knows the story behind the new album. Or, at least everyone knows the story you’ve told them about what’s behind the new album. But on our web page, there’s been a really intense, involved theory being shared. Essentially, what this person has said is that each song chronicles your past history with drug use and self-harm,” the DJ started.
Josh’s eyes widened a little, then he frowned a bit. Anyone who didn’t know him would have missed the subtle facial expression changes, but the band saw and so did the stylist. She crossed her fingers in her pockets and hoped that this whole thing wouldn’t be too traumatic. “Ok…,” he said.
The DJ went on. “The details say that the first song is all about your first taste of heroin, how you reacted to it and so on. And each following song gets darker and more dangerous, which shows the listeners that you, yourself, were going down a darker, more dangerous path and slowly slipping into this terrible world where nothing made sense and you weren’t truly living in reality. Another point made is that you have two women whose names are used throughout this whole fable, one of whom is good and the other is evil. This person who came up with the theory says that she believes the “evil woman”, which is in quotes by the way, isn’t a real person, but the personification of the drugs themselves. And the “good woman” is the personification of everything good in your life. As for the videos that go along with this record, the theory goes on to state that you continually receive and lose this vintage key, which is always kept guarded by the “good woman”, and the theorist is taking that to mean that every time you start to pull away from the drugs and all of that negative stuff, you lose your grip on the good stuff and reality and the “evil woman”/the drugs take you over again. The ‘key’ is an actual literal depiction of “the key to being happy” and/or the key to being alive. This person finishes up by saying that the last video in the sequence has you being shot and killed and the last song on the record talks about there being “no place like home”, which is all true, however the idea behind that is thought to be that the last song is your swan song. It’s how you view what would have happened in your life had you not gotten clean and sober. You wrote about your own hypothetical death. The “evil woman” had control over that famous key throughout that entire video. You could see it, but you couldn’t get it, and then your life was over. You lost the battle you had tried so hard to fight. The drugs eventually won and you essentially took your own life.” The DJ took a minute to let all of that sink in while she watched the band’s reaction.
Each of the four members of the band looked over at the stylist, who had her hand up to her mouth and very wide eyes. She didn’t know what to think.
“Oh my God,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair. Mike and Ian had turned their heads to Josh. Josh didn’t know what to say to that.
The DJ continued on. “How close is that to the truth?”
The band wanted to help Josh out by answering, but all they could do was leave it up to him. He had written the songs all alone and only he knew what they stood for. But the theory was brilliant and it made a wicked amount of sense. It left Mike wondering if maybe it was true, simply based on Josh’s reaction to hearing about it.
Josh had crossed his legs in the opposite direction and pulled his bangs down in front of his eyes. “Umm…wow,” he spoke into the microphone. “Someone put a lot of time into studying those songs and videos,” he tried to joke. “I guess…umm…well, the record means what it means to the individual. If that’s what they get out of it…if that’s what it means to them, then who am I to say otherwise?” He avoided answering any and all questions that asked for direct answers to what songs meant because he didn’t want to give himself away, but he also told everyone that he didn’t want to ruin the musical magic for the listener.
“That’s commendable,” the DJ said.
The stylist let out the breath she had been holding.
“But tell us, as your listeners and loyal fans…did your drug use ever come back to haunt you? Is that why you’re still writing songs like this so many years later?”
“Um…,” Josh started his sentence. He had no idea what to say. He was always so articulate until it came to talking about his own personal life. That always caused him to clam up.
Ian leaned up to the microphone and said, “Really, he’s writing about his addiction to Coke Zero. The man demands so much of the catering staff whenever we play anywhere that they’ve started to leave empty cans of the stuff laying around just to taunt him. He’s a diva.” Josh shot him a look of gratitude and tried to laugh it off, but it was strained.
“It’s true,” Matt said. “When he got his credit card bill last month, the only thing on it was a thousand dollars to the Coke company.”
Josh hung his head in mock shame and laughed. “Well, what can you do?”
The stylist shook her head and stuffed her hand back into her pocket. It was amazing that these guys could think so quickly on their feet and that they were so good at covering for each other. She had a lot to learn.
The DJ pressed on, not knowing when to stop, and also knowing that she would never get a straight answer from this band. “So, Josh, nothing in your past has ever crept back up on you? This is another fan question, by the way. This guy reached out to us and said that he’s also suffering from bulimia and self-harm and drug use but has no one to turn to, and since you’re his role model, he thought you might be able to help.”
Josh sighed and thought. “No, I’m no role model. I refuse to be considered that just because people out there don’t personally know me. They can be a fan of what we all do as a band, and that’s awesome. But…don’t look up to me. Look up to someone you know. I feel for the guy, but my best advice is to talk to someone. You never know who’s gonna be out there that can help you. It doesn’t have to be a professional. A friend works just as well.” He looked over at the rest of the band and then at the stylist and smiled a little.
Mike cleared his throat. “Josh is right. As much as we’d like to help everyone out there, it’s just impossible. But if you go to our web pages, we have all kinds of links for people who can help. Those are all causes we care a lot about.”
Matt and Ian nodded, but had nothing to add.
“Ok, guys! On that note, I thank you for being here. You were great guests and I hope to have you back here again!”
“Unlikely,” Josh muttered under his breath.
The DJ turned her attention back to her computer. “Now we’re going to play the newest single out by Marianas Trench!” The DJ stood and shook the hands of the band members before showing them out quickly while the song played.
Josh jammed his hands into his pockets and marched quickly back to the bus with his head down. He disappeared inside as Matt, Mike, Ian and the stylist stood just outside the door to the arena. “Jesus,” Ian said, “could she have been harder on him?”
The stylist shook her head. “I thought that usually your personal lives were pretty much off-limits except for perhaps just bringing up the things that Josh had already spoken about in past interviews.”
“We’ve never really made that a rule. Interviewers have really just been pretty cool and respectful this far,” Matt stated, shuffling his feet a little and turning to face away from the sun. “But I think we should probably make it some kind of rule now, though.”
“I hope this didn’t set him back at all. He was doing ok this morning,” Mike said as he nodded his head toward the bus.
“I don’t know whether we should leave him alone or go check on him. I think we should probably risk pissing him off by getting in his face just to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself somehow again,” the stylist said, feeling the familiar package of blades in her pocket. “But before we go in, I just wanna tell you guys that you did a fucking good job of covering for Josh in there. You were so right on top of things.”
The men smiled at her. “We’ve been together for so long that we know how to watch out for each other,” Ian said before he turned and headed for the bus. The other three followed suit.
Back in the bus, Josh was pacing back and forth. He was trying to distract himself from the interview by belting out fast-paced songs from their albums. He was sick of hearing himself sing, and he was even more tired of hearing his own songs, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Short of smashing a coffee mug, he had nothing to tear into his skin with and that’s all he wanted to do. But he had promised he wouldn’t. He had given up his blades only an hour ago. He could walk up the road again. He was sure there was some store somewhere that sold what he needed. “…and they will buy you and sell you for celebrity status!” No, he wouldn’t. He promised, he reminded himself for the fifth time since walking out of the building. “…I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying…” He bounced up and down a little, breaking out his only “dance move” while waving his arm. “…shake, shake, shake and shut your mouth…”
The band and the stylist could hear Josh just as they got to the door. “He’s ok,” Mike said. He was skeptical, but it was better to walk up to loud singing than deafening quiet.
Deciding to see for themselves, they opened the door and climbed the steps. His back was to the door and Josh had his hand up to his ear to hear himself better. “…I hate the way that I say I should stay when I know that I don’t give a fuck about it anyway, I shake hands and shoot smiles all around as I sell my body by the pound, sign my name on the dotted line for would-be fate, do not resuscitate!”
The four of them crowded around the top step of the bus and they watched as Josh dropped his hand to his side and took a deep breath. “…what you want, what you need has been killin’ me, trying to be everything that you want me to be, I’ll say yes, I’ll undress, I’ve done more for less…” He sunk to his knees and hung his head, breathing a bit more heavily than normal.
Matt took the lead and walked up into the bus, stomping his feet loudly to make sure he was heard. The group took seats in the front lounge and Josh turned his head to look at them before standing up. He slid into his usual spot at the table and brushed his hand over his bangs. “So,” Matt said, “some interview, eh?”
“You were all great, though,” the stylist said. “I’ve never seen you being interviewed before and I was amazed! I knew you all had a great sense of humour before, but seeing you put on the spot like that and seeing how you were still able to come up with such great answers really impressed me that much more.” She tried to stay extremely upbeat, but it was work.
“Well, thanks. We work well together,” Mike said, smiling.
“Fuck it, guys… There’s a huge elephant in the room so we might as well not ignore it or it’s gonna be way too fuckin’ weird for way too long,” Josh said without looking at anyone.
“He’s right,” Ian said. “If Josh hadn’t brought it up, I would have.” He turned to Josh. “So, man, did we do ok by you?”
“Oh yeah, you guys were great. Thank you. I’ve just…it was insane. It was crazy. The theory behind the music, dude? Insane. Just fuckin’ insane. But the fact of the matter is…it was really close to the truth. Someone out there in the world can read me like a motherfucking book and it’s a little scary. I can’t hide. I’ve always tried to write metaphorically so there’s layers and nothing is literal, but someone read through that. It’s hard. I don’t know what to do with this.” Josh stood and paced back and forth in front of them.
“Can I make a confession?” the stylist asked after a few moments of silence.
Josh stopped pacing just long enough to glance up at her and shrug his shoulders. “Why not?”
“It was me.”
“What was you? You fuckin’ wrote that??” Mike asked. “We didn’t even know that much about the songs.” He gestured to himself, Matt and Ian.
“I fully admit it. I wrote it long before I came to work for you guys. I posted the theory under some video comment as a response to someone else’s theory and it got buried. I never thought anyone would see it. I was just…so in awe, so I started to think and wonder. Lack of sleep sometimes brings on some clarity, you know?” The stylist played with the rings on her fingers. “But I swear, I never sent it in to that radio station. It must be circulating around the internet because that was the last time I ever really gave it any thought. Honest. I’m really, really sorry. I had no idea this would ever come out in an interview. I had no idea you would ever see it.”
“Fuck…” Josh dropped back into the seat at the table and stared at her. “I really can’t put anything over on you, can I?”
The stylist smiled a little and stared at her hands on the table. “How did you know?” Ian asked her.
“I didn’t know for sure,” she said. “I really just took a wild guess. I mean, I’ve listened to these songs so many times now. I wasn’t lying when I said I was only really familiar with the songs from this tour and this current album. I was so inspired and shattered and heart-broken and so many other things that I used to listen to this album for hours on end before I got this job. But, there are only so many times you can hear the same songs without getting bored, right?” They all nodded, knowing full-well how she felt. “So I decided to really start listening instead of just…hearing them. And that’s what I came up with. I just didn’t know it would be so close to the truth.”
“Believe it or not, I feel better knowing that it was you. I should be freaked the fuck out by someone who can read me so well, but I’m not. I sorta feel like I have no more secrets with you guys, and it’s a new feeling, but I like it. I’m ok with it.” Josh had visibly calmed down as they were talking, even though he was still a little worked up by the radio interviewer’s prying.
“So then…we’re ok? You’re ok?” She asked this with a bit of worry in her voice.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re ok. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna go wander around for a while and do some vocal warm-ups.” With that, Josh stood and left the bus, only to disappear back into the building he had just left.
“Well…fuck…,” Ian said.
“He said he was ok.” Matt shrugged. “We’re gonna have to trust him sometime.
Mike’s cell phone rang and he answered. “Brett! What’s up?” From there, it was a series of “uh-huh”, “yes” and “ok” answers before he turned his phone off.
“Sounds like the other interviews cancelled on us after hearing about the first one, which is fine by me,” he said turning to the group. “I guess they didn’t love our answers. But at least now we don’t have to track Josh down and drag him back for another round of that.”
“It’s about noon, you guys. Why don’t you go spend some time out there in the real world before you have to be back here by no later than five-thirty to start getting ready?” The stylist made the suggestion, only because she could really use the time to herself. Brett and the other two men always spent their days inside the venues making sure everything was set up and that the ticket sales were going through without a hitch, so she didn’t need to worry about them.
“You just wanna get rid of us, don’t you?” Ian leaned forward and smiled at her, tapping his foot on the floor.
“Yes,” she replied smiling. “It’s nothing personal, guys.”
“We know, and we were actually thinking about heading out for lunch, but we didn’t want you to think we were ditching you.” Matt stood and zipped his sweatshirt up.
“God no, don’t worry about me! Go, enjoy yourselves. And if you run into Josh, let him know what time to be back?”
“Will do! Bye, MOM!” they all yelled as they left the bus.
The stylist smiled and shook her head, but secretly loved that they thought of her as such a protective figure. She yawned. She’d only been up for approximately ten hours, but she was still completely drained and decided to nap while the bus was quiet and still. It would probably be the best sleep she’d had since joining the tour. Setting the alarm on her phone, she climbed up into her bunk and fell asleep.
When the boys all clambered up the stairs into the bus, the stylist was sitting at the table sewing a button back onto Mike’s jacket. “You could have told me about this before today,” she said giving him a look.
“Oh yeah! I got it snagged in my guitar strings at the last concert. Thanks, mom!” He laughed and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his hair.
Josh sauntered by them singing, “cross my hea-ear-ear-ear-ear-ttt and hope to-oo-oo-oo die-e-e-e-e-e…,” in the style that only he can. He stopped long enough to swing his hips a bit before Matt shoved him out of the way.
“Keep moving, Ramsay!”
They all seemed to be in a good mood. Shows always really pumped up their energy and they sounded happy for the first real time in days. The stylist finished sewing the button back onto Mike’s sleeve and slid the jacket into a garment bag before zipping it up. She had inspected all of their costumes and had packed them all up for transport into the building.
The tour manager appeared at the front of the bus and yelled to everyone that it was time to go. The stagehands had been hard at work and the stage was set up and ready for sound check. Four different variations of the words, “we’re coming!” were heard from the back of the bus before the boys walked up carrying their shoes and any other personal items they might need. The stylist grabbed the garment bags and followed them out. She walked straight into the building and was pointed in the direction of the dressing room while the band went to the trailer to pick up their equipment.
In the dressing room, the costumes were all spread out and labeled with the boys’ names. Josh’s was obvious with his white straight jacket-esque top and candy apple shiny red pants. Once she had set that up, the stylist left the room and wandered out to the stage to watch the sound check. This time, they were doing a tour of the United States, which meant that their shows were generally in smaller venues like clubs. This club, however, was massive. It was big enough that it was requested that Josh set up his flying act. The rigging for that was being set up as she stood watching the boys play the first song. Amplifiers were adjusted, microphones were adjusted, the lights were tested and the boys rocked. The sound check lasted only about fifteen minutes before everything was where it should be and everyone was satisfied. The band sounded great, as usual. This would prove to be the one odd show where nothing went wrong, technologically speaking.
The band and the stylist killed time sitting around the dressing room until it was time to get ready. She helped Mike, Matt and Ian into their costumes before moving over to Josh. He was a more complicated case due to the body harness he needed for his mid-performance flight. He had to slip into that before he could put his pants on.
At least once a show, every time he had to do this, Josh whined about the “horrible wedgie in his dickular area.” The joke got old, but the stylist saw how uncomfortable it was the first time he turned around to show her after she told him to suck it up. The rest of the band just laughed because Josh had made each of them try it on so they would have some sympathy for him. Finally everyone was suited up and ready to go.
Josh turned around and looked down at his stylist. “You’ll be there, right?”
She smiled at him. “I promised I would.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the little packet of razor blades that he had given her earlier. “You didn’t break your promise and neither will I,” she said, shoving the package back into her pocket.
After giving each of the band members a hug, the stylist wished them all good luck with the show. She left the guys to finish any last minute primping they had to do and went to go find a prime spot to watch the show. The stylist found a great spot just beyond the curtains on stage right. She posed herself there so the boys would see her when they walked out instead of looking around for her.
Theatrical music began to play and the band climbed the stairs up to the stage behind the curtain. Mike and Ian exchanged grins while Josh hopped from foot to foot muttering, “boots-and-cats-and-boots-and-cats-and-boots-and-cats…” Matt just shook his head. He was always the calmest before a show, even if he may have been the most excited internally. They were ready.
Finally it was their cue to head out on stage. Josh walked out first, arms raised in the air, trailing glitter behind him. How he managed to avoid getting that shit in his eyes every night, no one ever knew. Fans screamed and cheered, as was the norm for every show. The stylist was glad there was such a good turnout. They had a bad show the gig before when they had played in a city that had never heard of the band and no one showed up, so they all sat around on stage and played old AC/DC, Queen and Beach Boys tunes just for the fun of it. But still, it was disappointing.
After a minute or so, Matt followed Josh out onto the stage and waved at the crowd before taking his place at the microphone to Josh’s right. Mike and Ian walked out together. Mike blew kisses to the crowd while Ian took his place behind his drum kit. The cheering continued and cameras flashed every half second. The boys were incredibly well received and very loved! The stylist enjoyed getting to see the hype. Usually she wasn’t around for this, but it was phenomenal to witness the people she was so proud of doing what they loved for people who really appreciated it.
Josh started the show by introducing the band, which only led to more screams from the fans. Several bras were thrown on stage at his feet, which prompted some witty banter between Josh and the crowd. “Alright!! Are you guys ready to soft rock this bitch?!” he screamed into the microphone. The screeching of the audience told him they were more than fucking ready.
The first half of the show went off without a hitch. It was perfect and breath-taking and magical. Josh flew over the audience with his guitar strapped to his back and sang perfectly, despite the fact that the harness constricted his ribs so tightly and restricted his breathing. What that man could do was nothing short of miraculous. The stylist was in awe every time he opened his mouth, but she couldn’t let him know that. His ego was already big enough.
He touched back down to the stage just as the song was finishing. Josh glanced around at all of his band members and smiled. He stepped up to the microphone and held his hand up for silence. He knew how to command a room. “Thank you so much, you guys. I have a special favour to ask you. I want to introduce you to someone. Without this lady, we wouldn’t have a show and we wouldn’t be here tonight.” He shaded his eyes from the lights with his hand and scanned the darkened wings for his stylist. “You know who you are. Get out here!” He turned back to the audience. “This woman is our traveling stylist and friend and believe me, she puts up with a LOT of shit.” He pointed at himself. “Imagine traveling on a tour bus for months at a time with this glittery bitch.” He framed his face with his hands in a ‘vogue’ pose. Then Josh turned to wave the stylist out.
She had to be shoved out onto the stage by Brett, who was no stranger to being called up to speak. “Everyone, please welcome this lady. She means a great deal to us and whether you know it or not, she means a good deal to you too.” The stylist was nearly as red as Josh’s pants were and she was extremely nervous, but she took to the stage and stood next to Josh. All at once, all four band members gathered her up in a group hug while the audience cheered. She broke from the hug and reached for Josh’s microphone. “I hate you all and now you owe me.” That got laughter from the crowd and the band. Ian reached up and slammed a drum stick down on his cymbal before jumping back up onto the platform and taking his seat again.
Before handing the microphone back to Josh, who kept reaching for it, she took a deep breath and gathered up every ounce of courage she had. “You guys are great fans of this band and you love them, right??” The crowd roared and she looked to Josh to silence them again. “Well, you don’t know how special this performance really is, so just know that you’re seeing something incredibly amazing here tonight. Give it up for these guys!” She handed the microphone back to Josh, took a few steps over to Mike and clapped as hard as she could while facing each band member and grinning. When she finally turned to Josh, she put one hand over her heart and the other over her pocket, which still contained that tiny little good luck charm. Josh returned the gesture by putting his hand over his own heart and then turned back to the audience.
“Now that that sappy shit is over, I have an idea. As our stylist said, it’s a special show for us. Not necessarily for any particular reason, but it is, so I want to forego the rest of the set list tonight and if it’s ok with Matt, Mike and Ian, I wanna play what you guys wanna hear. Is that cool?” The cheering was deafening.
The stylist had left the stage but moved back to her previous spot in the wings. She wondered what Josh was up to and if this was really such a good idea. But she had to trust him. They all did. He wouldn’t try anything if he didn’t think he could handle it…she hoped.
She watched Matt and Mike look back at Ian, who simply shrugged. They had decided to let Josh run the show and they agreed to play anything the audience wanted for just this one night in celebration of Josh, even though the only ones who shared that secret were the four men on stage and the stylist. But she was proud to know his reasoning.
“Ok, this is how we’re gonna work it. We have five songs left on this set list for the night so I’m gonna divide you guys into sections. You over here,” he said walking down the catwalk near Matt, “you guys who can claim Mr. All American Flag Hat, you’re section one. You choose the first song. No help from the rest of you!” He whispered into the microphone. “You don’t wanna be a douche and step on someone else’s toes.” That brought more laughter, which died down as soon as Josh held up his hand.
“Ok, section one, what’s it gonna be??” Josh was pacing back and forth while he spoke. It helped to keep his energy up. Unfortunately, he couldn’t go too far, because he had deliberately kept himself tethered to his harness to avoid crowd surfing. It also limited his movement, which he felt was the safest he would be, given his situation. He got too lost in his own thoughts and missed everything the crowd was screaming at him.
“Wait, what? Let’s get together on this! Everybody all at once now. One, two, three, REPEAT!” He conducted them with his hand and they all screamed out a different song, but the one Josh heard the loudest was “By Now”. “Ok! Good, we have the first song. Ian, count us off. “By Now”.”
The crowd threw their hands up into the air and screamed. Everyone knew what a great song that was. Josh sang his heart out and every member of the band sounded just as good, if not even better than they had on the album. This was one band that gave their all, whether it was in the studio or on the stage, and it showed. When the song was over, the stylist clapped harder than she’d ever clapped for anyone before.
Josh then walked over to the section he dubbed “section two” and pointed out a girl wearing a blinking red birthday button. “Ok, birthday girl! You choose the song, but get opinions first! I don’t wanna find out you were shanked in the parking lot after the show for picking the wrong Marianas Trench song.” The girl turned bright red, covered her mouth and screamed before turning around to face the rest of her little group.
“”Lover Dearest”!” she yelled up to Josh.
Josh turned back to the band briefly with a panicked look on his face, and then spun back around to face the girl. “That’s a great suggestion, but I think we’re gonna have to pass on that one tonight. I swear that’s the only one I’ll say no to.” He noted the disappointed look on the girl’s face, and he hated that look, but he just couldn’t play that song tonight. She got her consolation song, though, when she suggested “Alibis”. Secretly, Josh wished they would stop choosing these fucking depressing songs, but he understood why people related to them.
“And all my faces are alibis and me, I’m half the man I wanted to be…,” they concluded the song. The stylist whistled and cheered from the side stage and Josh glanced over at her, simply to make sure she was still there. She gave him a small wave and he nodded back.
“Ok, section three! Dude with the 70’s porn mustache! You guys choose your song.” Josh was still pacing back and forth while he waited for a decision and he heard several more people scream for “Lover Dearest”, but he just couldn’t do it. Maybe another time when he was in a better frame of mind. Eventually section three shouted up to him, “Skin and Bones”. Josh felt like he could handle that song. That wasn’t his problem at the moment, so hopefully he’d be ok. He looked back at the band who all waited on his approval and he nodded.
The stylist watched Josh carefully during this song. She knew this was part of his problem when all of the depression and cutting started and she hoped this wouldn’t bring back all of those memories. Only once during the song did his voice crack and he reached up to brush his bangs away from his face. She couldn’t tell if he was hiding the fact that the song had touched a nerve in him or if he was just getting tired, as it was now nearly the end of the show and it truly had been a very long week for everyone. Either way, she knew this was one of the most emotional songs Josh had because he had sung this to her the first night he let on that he had a new problem he was dealing with. She was glad he felt well enough to tackle the song tonight, but she was also worried for him.
The song ended without incident and it was beautiful and amazing. Peeking out into the audience, she could see the girls in the front row crying. Had Josh been a really emotional guy on stage, that probably would have done him in, but he managed to do well despite the issues he was facing.
“Dude! Hey, you in the wife-beater. Thanks for dressing up for the show. We did. Did you get dressed in the dark?” The stylist heard the audience member yell back that it was the only clean thing he had. “Not anymore. You fuckin’ spilled shit all over the front of it. For that, you really need to hit our merch booth and buy a twenty dollar tshirt, I think.” Josh loved heckling audience members almost as much as he loved being center stage. He pointed in the general direction of the booth. “We’d better fuckin’ see you there after the show, my friend. Also, you’re the ring leader for section four. Don’t let me down!”
They picked the song “So Soon”. Fuck. Josh didn’t want to sing that one either, but he had already promised that “Lover Dearest” would be the only one he’d say no to and he really hated breaking promises. He looked over at the stylist who put her hand over her heart again as a reminder to Josh to keep it together. Two more songs and the show was over. “…but what if here and now I tell you that I’m all figured out?...or maybe I just like how that sounds…” Once or twice Matt had to take over the lead vocals for Josh when he stepped back from his microphone, but the band got through it and it was an even more beautiful song when it was sung by everyone and accompanied by the keyboard. However, the stylist would always have respect for Josh’s solo acapella version.
Josh took a breath and looked over at Mike. As he walked behind Mike, Josh put a hand on his shoulder just because he needed a friendly touch in the moment and that helped. Walking down the catwalk to the last section, he held his hands up. “Well, what’s it gonna be, guys? Last song of the night here! Make it a good one!”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, of course it had to be “Porcelain”. Josh took a breath and launched into the song. Once again, he had to motion to Matt to take over the lead vocals for a chorus while he stepped back from the microphone and looked over at the side of the stage toward the stylist. She patted her pocket once again to remind him that he could do it. He nodded a little and stepped back up to the microphone. “…it’s alright if you don’t know what you need…”
Right after the song ended, Josh held his hands up to the crowd, smiled, joined hands with the rest of the band and bowed. “Thank you. We’re Marianas Trench, we love you and we hope you enjoyed the show.”
The stagehands rushed onto the stage to unhook Josh from his harness and he quickly walked off stage right past the stylist and down the stairs. There was a sudden gust of cold air, as though a door had been opened and she figured that Josh just needed a little space and a little time to himself. She would trust him.
The rest of the band followed the stylist back into the dressing room to change out of their costumes before going out to greet some of the fans and then head over to their merchandise booth to sell the shit out of the products that had their names and faces plastered all over.
The stylist busied herself with packing up the costumes and then hauled them all back out to the bus. She hoped she’d see Josh there, but the bus was empty and she was completely alone. She was starting to get worried, but not enough to panic yet. Josh hadn’t been missing for that long and it had been a hard show for him to play. Anyone would need some space after that.
She spent her time checking over the costumes from head to toe, making sure nothing had been ripped or damaged and when she found small spaces in Matt’s clothing that needed to be fixed, she went to work. Several hours went by before Mike, Ian and Matt finally climbed their way up into the bus and fell into the first seats they found. By now, Brett and the stagehands had packed up all of the equipment, but they couldn’t leave until five in the morning for some inexplicable legal reason.
The stylist finished her work on the costumes and packed them away for the next show, then sat around talking to the three men about how the show went. “I think it went great,” Ian said with a smile.
“Yeah, Josh really hung in there,” Mike agreed. “He’s a tough one to crack when he’s on stage.”
“He lost it a couple of times, though,” Matt stated, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t mind taking over vocals, but I hate when it’s because Josh can’t do it, especially for this reason.”
“I understand,” said the stylist, “but you did a great job, as always. You all did. I have to tell you guys something. This was the first show I’ve ever seen from start to finish. I knew you were all amazing, but I had no idea just how amazing. I now see why people get so emotional over music. These songs…obviously they aren’t mine, but I have to tell you that I was back there in the wings sobbing a time or two. You all put so much of yourselves into your playing and singing. It’s just all raw power and emotion. I don’t think I could stand to watch you perform every night, though. I don’t think I could handle that much crying!”
The boys all smiled at her and suddenly became shy as if they had never been complimented before. Ian ducked his head a little. “Well, we thank you. But really, this is all Josh. We might be there with the instruments and the voices, but everything you’re hearing is all Josh. He’s the one you need to tell.”
“And believe me, I have! He takes a compliment just about as well as you do,” she said smiling and running a hand through her hair.
Mike laughed and got up to pour himself a drink. Tossing bottles of water to Matt and Ian, he sat back down and checked his watch. “Hey, it’s really late now and we haven’t seen Josh since the show. We’d better go find that guy because now it’s getting scary.”
“Look, you three stay put. You worked your fucking asses off tonight and I’ll do the work to find him. I owe you guys that for completely breaking my heart.” She smiled at them and walked off the bus back toward the building they had left several hours earlier.
It was now three in the morning and the stage was still littered with debris from the night’s concert. The crowd had long gone, taking most traces of their appearance along with them, leaving behind only discarded gum wrappers, plastic vending machine drink bottles and the occasional souvenir that someone had forgotten they had bought before the show. The sweaty, musky smell of the theater still hung in the air, and it was a familiar one. She had been to enough shows to know that it didn’t matter where the band played; this was a smell that never changed and never failed to aid in the excitement. The house lights had been turned off, leaving only a faint iridescent glow and a low grade buzzing that came from the ceiling lights. Even those were a bit too bright for her after the flash of the strobe lights during the concert.
She carefully picked her way through random cables and other bands’ boxed up equipment stacked backstage, waiting to be loaded into a trailer and towed behind a tour bus to the next city, wherever that might be. The stylist had spent half an hour looking for Josh at this point. After his spectacular performance with the rest of the band, he was let loose from the harness and disappeared backstage. The show was a good ego boost after the last time bombed and the boys deserved a good thing every chance they got. Josh should be on the bus celebrating.
Letting her eyes adjust to the odd new lighting, which was disconcerting as it was not ideal, she squinted a bit until she was comfortably able to glance around at her surroundings. The stylist kicked a discarded, empty water bottle out of her path and a figure at the edge of the stage jumped as if scared by the sudden skittering noise of the plastic as it rolled along the floor. “Josh?” she asked quietly and slowly started to walk toward him, suddenly slightly afraid that if she moved too quickly, she’d scare him off. It looked like he needed a bit of space, so she wanted to tread lightly around him this time. But she wasn’t willing to leave him alone. Not when he was in the kind of head space he’d been in lately.
He didn’t answer, but merely hunched over a bit farther. She knew she should let him be for the moment, but now she was worried. Josh was usually extremely amped up after a show and it took him hours to settle down. Seeing him this subdued and quiet worried her because he had been doing so well during the first half of the show. Still proceeding cautiously, she stood off to his side so he could choose to look at her any time he liked, but wasn’t forced to make eye contact. She stuck her hands in her pockets just for something to do because she desperately wanted to brush his faded, matted, sweaty after-concert blue hair out of his eyes, but it didn’t seem to bother him for now.
Moments passed and there was nothing but silence between them. She knew Josh would talk if he had something to say. He wasn’t a quiet man by any means most of the time. Usually they couldn’t get him to stop talking long enough to get a few words into a conversation, but since she was a woman of few words herself, this suited her just fine. She almost said his name again softly when she noticed that he was nearly sitting on the set list from the show and was absent-mindedly running a finger over the tape holding it to the stage.
She watched for another moment or two and got lost in her own thoughts, wondering when he had changed out of his show clothing and into his regular, every day clothes. He knew she was there, but he wasn’t in a talkative mood, it seemed. She had to get him back on the bus eventually, because they were rolling out of…whatever city they were in by 5am and she truly didn’t want to wind up having to share a cab ride for a thousand miles. Even being the only female on the bus was preferable to that. Pulling her hand out of her pocket, she checked her watch. It was still only a little after three now, so there was still time, but she hoped Josh had seen the gesture out of the corner of his eye. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge that either.
Sighing internally, she still dreaded crossing any kind of lines with him. He was a sweet guy, but when he wanted his space, he could become a tad surly and that wasn’t a side she wanted to be on again. She’d been there enough over the last couple of days. It was hard when so many people lived together for so long and shared such a small space. Grudges could be held easily when you can’t get away from the person you’re upset with. Being that she felt so passionately about each one of the band members, she truly never wanted to upset them.
She knelt down on one knee so she was eye-level to him and quietly said his name in neither a question, nor a statement. It sounded so strange to hear his name being spoken that way that he looked up, his eyes a little wider than usual. “Josh?” she said again, questioning him this time.
“Yeah…I know…,” he responded, matching her tone.
“No, darlin’, we don’t have to go yet. I just came to find you. All the guys are back on the bus and the life of the party wasn’t there, so they kicked me off the bus to come track you down,” she said gently, but playfully. A smile barely touched his lips and he reached up to finally shove his hair back from his face. “What’s up? You’re not usually one to hang out alone in an empty arena after a show is over.” She risked sitting and swung her legs over the edge of the stage next to him so that they were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.
He shrugged a little. “It’s fine. It’s ok. I’ll head out there in a little while. Tell the guys to be ready because I’m gonna have a ton of energy to get out after this one.” His words seemed forced, as if he was only telling her what she wanted to hear.
“Nah…I think I’ll stay here for a bit longer if that’s ok. Good company is sometimes hard to find and I’ll let the guys sweat it out for a while. They don’t need to know I found you yet.” He shot her a slight grateful smile and went back to playing with the tape on the set list against his opposite side. “So, why the quiet? This isn’t the prank playing, boisterous Josh I’ve come to know and love.”
Suddenly he put his palms against the stage and shoved himself off. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor echoed in the empty space and she mentally back-peddled, hoping against hope that she didn’t press him too hard. She was always afraid she would do that to him especially. He could talk about anything and make it funny or interesting, but she knew how hard it was for him to talk about himself seriously and he’d been doing so much of that lately. She could read through all of those social media posts he made where he called himself a ‘douche’ and an ‘ass’ in many different ways. She also knew that he tried to be a lot of things, but those things were not who he truly was. It was simply a part he portrayed, more or less as a joke. He was so good at it that people sometimes started to believe it, but she knew better by now.
Instead of walking off, he held out his hand to her. She took it, feeling years of calloused fingers and palm brought on by simply being a musician against her own hand. She pushed herself off the stage with her opposite hand and her shoes slapped against the cold cement floor with an echo just like his a few seconds prior. Without a word, he led her up the steps to the highest seats in the theater. The chairs were barely noticeable now that the lights had been dimmed and a shadow fell across the upper back half of the venue. Josh walked halfway down the row of chairs before sitting down. She sat down next to him and watched as he tried to fold his long, lanky body into a comfortable position, finally settling on stretching his legs out in front of him and propping his feet, crossed at the ankles, on the back of the seat in front of him. He did this all without letting go of her hand.
She was thoroughly confused by now. This was a bit of an odd situation to be in. She understood that Josh was dealing with a lot, but he’d never, not once, according to the band, ever snuck back into the venue after a show was over.
He tucked her arm under his and pulled both of their arms across his stomach. There they sat in quiet, listening to that same humming coming from the lights down below. Eventually janitors would come through and sweep up, getting rid of any evidence that such a great band had spent three hours here, bringing people to tears, shattering their hearts and mending them again, all for the cost of less than a tank of gas. The magic would be gone just like that.
She was lost in her own thoughts and she barely noticed that Josh had taken a shallow, shuddering breath that she could feel against his stomach. His hand squeezed hers a bit before he finally began to speak. “Don’t…don’t look at me. This is hard…I can’t do this face to face.” She nodded, but respected that and slunk down into her seat a little further to try to gain that much more obscurity from the shadows. “I’m just…I’m having a hard time again tonight. I was doing ok and then…because of my own bright idea, it all fell to hell.”
She wanted to acknowledge what he said, but didn’t want to ruin his moment, so she lightly ran her thumb over the back of his hand a couple times just to show she heard him. “I know these are my songs…our songs…but fuck me…these guys picked every hard song I have. “By Now”, “Fallout”, “Porcelain”, “Skin and Bones” and “So Soon”, and then they requested “Lover Dearest”. I usually try to avoid that one even on a good day. I know it means a lot to me and I know it means a lot to a lot of people, but it just…I dunno…” His voice dropped off.
She knew what he meant but she wanted him to own it. She wanted him to say it. She shifted a little in her seat without moving the arm he had resting so comfortably against his body like some kind of security blanket. Very quietly, almost whispering, she coaxed him. “Yes…you do know. It’s ok to tell me. We’re the only ones here. You could scream it at the top of your lungs and no one would hear it but me.”
Josh paused momentarily, folding his legs and dropping his feet to the floor. He ducked his head so that his hair covered his right eye and threw a shadow across the rest of his face. “It just brings everything back again. I know…logically…that I’m clean. I’m sober. It’s been ten fucking years, save for these last few weeks. When am I going to stop letting this get to me? I can do these songs most nights without a problem. Then there’s nights like tonight and it all…fucking…comes…back. Right now, in this moment, it’s not the urge to get high, it’s not a need to drink like it has been, it’s not even the bulimia…it’s just…all the feelings. Suddenly I’m seventeen again and terrified of going to rehab. I’m seventeen and getting kicked out of school. I’m seventeen and having to tell my parents the truth about everything. You don’t know this unless Mike, Matt or Ian opened their mouths, but some nights, that song is on the set list and right as the song before it ends, I have to turn to the guys and tell them that we’re doing another song because I just can’t handle it. I’m just…so tired…”
She slowly let go of Josh’s hand. He resisted a bit at first, thinking she was going to let him speak and then just walk away. Instead, he let her go and she moved her hand to his shoulder and squeezed it a little. “You’ll be ok,” she whispered. “You’ve made it this far and it’s not as scary as it all was when it first happened. You’re older...maybe not any wiser,” she cracked, “but you’re stronger. You’ve got the entire band behind you, and apparently they can all keep secrets extremely well because I knew none of this. So they’re loyal almost to a fault. You aren’t alone in this like you were before. You aren’t seventeen anymore. I know that doesn’t help a whole lot, but maybe it’s a start. If there’s a song you don’t want to sing, there’s nothing that says you have to. If people want to listen to it, they can just buy the cd like everyone else.” She smiled a little, this time, working up the nerve to let go of his shoulder and brush his hair out of his eyes again.
“No more hiding. You are who you are and the truth is, you’ve made it known about your past. If anything, people respect you more for that. Not because you had yourself so far gone that you needed rehab, but because you escaped. You got out alive and healthy and people look up to that.”
Josh started to protest, but she cut him off and grabbed his hand again. “I know…I know how you feel about all of that ‘role model’ stuff and that’s not what I’m saying. People don’t have to call you a role model, but it’s ok if they look up to you. You’re someone worth looking up to because you took a bad situation and turned it into all this.” She gestured to the empty arena in front of them. People came here to see you realize your dream tonight. Back then, did you ever think that would happen?”
“No,” he said slowly, as if remembering past conversations he had with himself as a teenager. “I truly thought I would be dead before I hit 21.”
“And now…look at everything you have and everything you’ve accomplished. Are you really trying to tell me that all of this and everything you’ve done for yourself isn’t worth looking up to?” She smiled at him, getting a bit overly excited at cheering him on, simply because a feeling of pride for her friend had risen in her and she wanted to brag about his accomplishments, even if it was only to the one person who had actually lived it.
“I…suppose…if you have to put it that way, I’m ok with it,” Josh said. He truly was a humble person when you got beneath the cocky performer exterior he showed the world because they expected it.
“Josh,” the stylist said sticking her hand back into her pocket for the final time that night, “you’re also worth looking up to because of these.” She lifted up the packet of razor blades that she’d been holding onto ever since he had handed them to her that morning.
Josh reached out to take them from her. He held them in the palm of his hand and stared at them. “These dominated my life for so long. Now they’re back.”
“No they aren’t,” the stylist said taking the package back. “They’re gone. I know the cravings aren’t and I know the urges you have to use these aren’t. But they will be. You just have to trust that your friends are gonna be there when you need them. You also have to realize how strong you really are.” She leaned across Josh and tossed the package of blades end over end into the garbage can at the end of the row of seats. It made a metallic clink as it hit the side and slid to the bottom. “Gone.”
She had since shifted to the edge of her seat while trying to get him to realize that it was ok for him to accept the great things he had overcome and would still overcome. She hadn’t realized that Josh had been slowly shrinking away from her and had pulled one leg up to put a foot on the chair he was sitting in, while simultaneously resting his chin on his knee.
She cupped a hand under Josh’s chin and raised his face a bit. “Look, kiddo…I understand everything you’ve been through and believe me…I know that even years later, it still lingers. But you’re far from alone and you’re far from where you used to be. It’s ok to tell us when you’re having a hard time. I think I can speak for the rest of the group when I say that we’ll all do our best to get you through it when it happens. We all care about you too much to let you fall. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”” she said, smiling and quoting one of his songs back to him once again.
At that, he smiled and pulled away from her hand, flipping his hair back from his face, yet again. “You’ve been waiting for that one, haven’t you? “
“Longer than you realize!”
Josh laughed a bit and played with the tongue ring inside his mouth a little, acting as if he was trying to work up the nerve to say something. She settled back into her seat and continued to stare at the theater before her. She could never get enough of this feeling, just sitting in a venue where so many great bands had played, so she let Josh mull over his thoughts without feeling the need to drag it out of him. He would talk. Especially after all they had just said in the privacy of their dark balcony seats.
“Have…have you ever had this really odd sensation that makes you feel like a little kid again…?” She nodded so as not to break his flow of words. “And all you want is to be hugged and told that you’ll be ok?” He hadn’t looked at her when he said it, but his voice sounded a little shaky and nervous. Josh, for once, hadn’t known how to phrase his words. He didn’t want to plead or sound vulnerable, but he hadn’t succeeded at either of those.
Figuring he had spread himself thin enough over the last few nights, she opened her arms, letting him know that she was willing to comfort him and give him a bit of a ‘safe space’ to just relax and breathe without having to feel like he needed to put on an act.
Prior to her finding him sitting on the stage, Josh had taken off his jacket, but had grabbed it when he took a flying leap off the edge. He had dropped it in the seat next to him when they sat down. Now he reached for it as he turned in his seat to pull it around his shoulders like a blanket. He moved enough to fold one leg up under himself and the stylist wrapped her arms around him as he leaned against her. She rubbed his back a little and quietly spent the next few minutes telling him that he would be ok, that things would be better and that he had everyone he was traveling with and then some who would take it upon themselves to make sure he would be fine. Every now and again he would nod a little or clutch his jacket a little tighter around himself until about three minutes into her rambling, when she felt Josh relax.
He had fallen asleep, which was both good and bad. She knew how taxing it could be to have all of those things churning around inside one’s head and he needed the sleep. But she would also have to wake him up, which she would feel awful doing since he got so little sleep as it was.
There was a muffled noise coming from a row of seats somewhere behind them and she turned her head to see what it was. Two rows behind them sat the Ian, Mike and Matt. Mike was the first to move, standing up and climbing over the row between them to sit down just behind Josh. He spoke quietly in his comforting tone with lilting Canadian accent. “We wondered where you disappeared to. The bus leaves in half an hour. Is he ok?”
“Well,” she started, “that all depends on how long you were sitting there and what Josh wants you to know.”
Murmuring against her shoulder without opening his eyes, Josh said, “he’s fine…and if I know these guys, they were sitting there the whole time.” She looked back at Matt and Ian. Matt was suddenly interested in his boot laces and Ian nodded a little and folded his hands back behind his head.
“C’mon, man,” Mike said patting Josh on the shoulder. “Gotta go! We have to play a show in Jersey tomorrow and we won’t make it if we don’t leave on time.”
“I’m up…I’m up…we have to find a vending machine. I need caffeine,” Josh said staggering to his feet and rubbing his eyes.
“No you don’t. You need sleep,” Ian pointed out from two rows back as he and Matt stood and stretched a bit.
“I can sleep when I’m dead,” Josh declared as he bounded over the row of seats in front of him and proceeded to hitch-kick his way down the wide stairs that led back down to the stage.
Matt smiled and shook his head. “He’s back. He’ll be fine.”