1

                                    

                                          
it's almost always like this. a dry hand hastily shoved down his sweats, bottom lip between his teeth, eyes squeezed shut as he gets himself off with only the curtain of his bunk to keep the ordeal private.
other times, it's the same scenario but in a different location, like a hotel room. naked in the dim light of a lamp, soft panting and glancing back at the door every few seconds in paranoia. sometimes it's in the shower, with warm water hitting his back as one hand braces him on the wall.
the common theme is his solitariness. it has to be that way.
right?
right.
he can't be seen with anyone, especially not a man. tyler is terrified of his reputation, terrified of being dragged through the mud by the media, the fans, and anyone and everyone watching. he's accepted this fate. he'll die alone. he knows that.
at most, he might have some casual boyfriend, or maybe he'll find himself with an occasional one night stand (lord knows he's had plenty of those).
it might be twenty years before he'll be able to step out of the spotlight enough to find himself comfortable being seen with anyone. maybe in twenty years, no one will care about him anymore. maybe he'll have the opportunity to grab a fucking bagel in peace, without running into some teenager asking for a picture.
for now, with the success of blurryface and the upcoming, triumphant end of the emotional roadshow tour, there's a simmer that stays bubbling in his phone. every app he opens, every email and text message, there's some ever-present whispering of 'what happens next?' 
and tyler loves his fans. he's so grateful for them. the relationship with this group of people he's cultivated behind him is like no other. because of this, there's just no room for any other relationship in his life. he thinks sometimes that the pressure of keeping this secret, of keeping up with the momentum his career is currently running on, of keeping his fans happy, will suffocate him.
it feels like a weight on his chest, a pill too big to swallow. his hands are always shaking in interviews, nervous laughter joining when a journalist for some magazine (or something along those lines [there are too many interviews to keep count these days]) references his bachelor state. at least in interviews, he isn't alone. he has josh.
josh, who gives his all right alongside tyler at every show. tyler watches him whenever he can get away with it. josh, who answers every question that he knows tyler would feel too uncomfortable to respond to with ease. tyler watches him then, too. josh, who listens to every strange or complicated addition to the storyline their music is building up to. tyler really watches him then, watches every idea bounce off of his face with a look of pensiveness. josh, who is his best friend. josh, who he is in love with. josh, who is getting married.
tyler sighs and removes his hand from his pants. he's thought himself soft again, overthinking to an incurable extent. he reaches for his phone under his pillow and checks the time. it's hardly past two.
he opens twitter, against his best judgment, and is immediately met with tons of posts with his username attached. hundreds of them. thousands maybe, he thinks. he scrolls through some of them, liking a few pieces of art and a few pictures taken at the gig they'd finished a few hours prior. just a few more shows. just four, he's pretty sure.
four more shows. then, he'll be able to return to his home in columbus. his empty home and his empty bed. josh will return to columbus too, for awhile at least, to see his family and jim. apperantly debby will be there as well. she's flying out for a week or two to welcome him home before she has to go back to l.a. for some movie she's in. josh might go with her. he's not sure yet though, according to the conversation he and tyler shared at dinner earlier. l.a. sucks, tyler's decided. so does debby. and whatever movie she'll go work on that will have josh following her, that will suck too.
-
tyler wakes up with a jolt, a bump in the road snapping his eyes open.
he rubs his eyes with his fists and grabs his phone again. surely it's morning now.
the screen reads half past eight and he figures that he's gotten enough sleep for the day.
he opens his curtain slowly and stands up, stretching his arms above his head and immediately looking over to josh's bunk out of curiosity.
looking for josh is the first thing he does in most situations.
when he finds the other bunk empty, he decides to use the bathroom before venturing out to the main area of the bus.
josh sits on the couch, his phone in one hand and a mug, presumably filled with coffee, in the other. he turns to tyler with a small smile, his glasses just barely moving up from the way it lifts his cheeks.
"good morning," he says, his voice still sleepy.
he hasn't been up long, tyler can tell. he asks anyway.
"morning. you been up long?" his voice is hoarse too.
"not really."
figures. 
tyler sits down on the couch next to him, leaning his head on josh's shoulder. best friends do that, right?
tyler didn't always overthink everything this way. he doesn't know what changed.
he only remembers waking up one day, after they had to share a hotel room with two queen sized beds, and wishing that there was only one in the room instead.
they'd shared a bed before, but that morning, something was different. he watched josh sleep from a few feet away, thanking god for mixing up the room reservations and giving him the opportunity to watch the sun rise and cast a golden glow across his best friend's freckled shoulders.
ever since then, tyler can hardly focus. he doesn't think josh can tell, but his own heart definitely can. even now, leaning against his shoulder, tyler feels like his skin is so hot that it might burn through josh's shirt. 
"how'd you sleep?" josh asks, breaking the silence. he always seems to know when tyler has started to spiral, even if he doesn't know what exactly he's spiraling over yet.
"not great. as good as i could, i guess. can't complain."
"you can. complain, i mean. you're allowed to," he reassures.
tyler sits up again and shrugs. he doesn't know what to say. he doesn't have any argument, but he also doesn't think he has the right to complain in the first place. he's lucky to have the life he has.
so, so lucky.
(an: hiiiii, friends! it has been awhile and i'm very happy to be back! i've been practicing third person perspective because some people prefer that, but i haven't fully gotten the hang of it yet, so bare with me! still hate capital letters though, haha. this chapter is about 1100 words or so, but the rest should be between 1500-2k. anyway, welcome to my new story! i hope you all enjoy ♡)