Second Heartbeat

The lights went down; screams from the crowd became slowly distant, as he walked back to the backstage, handing his guitar to his guitar tech. He was tired. No the-gig-is-over-let’s-get-wasted kind of tired. His whole being just protested against every move he forced it to make. He was lightheaded for the better part of the show, and if it wasn’t for one of the Berry brothers, who handed him quickly energy drink, he would have probably passed out right on-stage. He threw himself on the first couch he spotted and closed his eyes. A huge wave of relief washed over him, as he relaxed into the soft cushions. In that moment of absolute exhaustion, he managed to forget about all the shits going on in his head. His fucked up brain just shut down for a while, leaving him rest for a bit.
A soft hand touched his shoulder and brought him back to reality. He opened his eyes and met a pair of hazel orbs clouded with worry.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Brian mumbled tiredly and rubbed his eyes. Matt was sitting uncomfortably close to him, but he was too exhausted to try and move away. He didn’t really mind, it was just…one part of him wanted nothing but throw himself into the strong, muscular arms of his best friend, and the other was screaming at him to stop thinking like that.

“Jason told me that you almost passed out. What’s wrong? I mean … if you’re not feeling good, we can call the doctor, or we can just lay back for a few days, y’know, so you can…”

“Stop right there,” Brian firmly interrupted Matt’s rant. “I’m absolutely fine. I just wasn’t eating much today, so I guess my body couldn’t make it through the whole show.”

“Honestly, I haven’t seen you eat a proper meal in a while now. What’s that, some fucked up diet?”

“No. I’m fine. Where are the others? I thought we were going to the bar?”
In that moment, Zacky stepped through the door, with Johnny and Arin hot on his tail. “Are you sure you wanna go?”

“Are you fucking serious man?” Brian retorted and got up from the couch. He felt the wave of nausea washed over him, but he tried really hard to reveal nothing. When his head stopped spinning and his stomach calmed a bit, he started to pack his things. He didn’t catch the worried expression in Matt’s eyes, neither the questioning looks that were exchanged between Zacky and Johnny.

Later that night, he was sitting in some unknown bar, sipping his beer. He could already feel the effect of few whiskey shots they had before, but his head was clearer than he would like it to be. He was still able to think…and that was bad. He used to live recklessly, careless and cocky, with no concerns whatsoever. Life was great … until he fell in love with Matthew goddamn Sanders.
And that was bad.
Not just because said person was a straight guy, or because it was singer in their fucking band. Matt was his best friend. Best friend who proposed his girlfriend to marry him a few months ago.
And she said yes. Cheers.

And ever since, Brian just felt numb. He wasn’t hungry, he couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t even mess with Johnny, or make his dumb-ass jokes. The only time he forgot was on the stage. And when he was totally smashed. Yeah — at least something he was trying to do regularly. He knew he looked like skeleton, just a shell, a shadow of the man he used to be. But that was probably something what was about to happen when you found out that someone you loved since high school is going to marry someone else.

He didn’t know how much he had drunk, when Matt came to him and told him they’re leaving, but his head was spinning and he couldn’t walk straight. He felt strong arm took him and led him to the cold night air. He relaxed to the touch, recognizing it immediately. It was comforting and confusing at the same time. He wanted to run away. Or smashed Matt to the wall and kiss him. So he just buried his face in the crook of Matt’s neck and stopped thinking. His intoxicated brain registered nothing than the smell of mixed cologne, sweat and cigarettes from the bar.

“You are an asshole, you know that?” he mumbled, as his feeble body was rested against a wall of an elevator.

“Yeah, I’m terrible person, dragging your wasted ass back to the bed,” Matt rolled his eyes.

“This is your fucking fault, M-att-ew…” Brian muttered, not able to even spell singer’s name correctly. He felt his knees giving up under the practically non-existent weight of his body, weak muscles weren’t able to hold him straight anymore. The last thing he saw was Matt leaning over him, looking like he was screaming something. But he couldn’t hear anything, as the darkness veiled his vision.