Chapter Text
"Have a good show," Mark says as Josh and Tyler warm up and stretch opposite each other, waiting for the ETA announcement.
Josh watches Mark gather his equipment in his hands and around his neck before he starts recording Tyler jumping and running on the spot.
"Thanks, man. Good luck out there," Josh replies, all teeth, tongue and squinting eyes when Mark turns toward him and shoves the camera in his face.
"Okay, okay! That's close enough!" he says between laughs and tries to steer the camera back in Tyler’s direction.
Tyler seems generally unfazed by that spiel but the glimmer in his eyes and the slight wrinkles emerging next to them tell Josh that today is going to be a good show.
Energy and adrenaline strike him and he claps his hands together three times, while jumping up and down, similar to Tyler just moments before. As if reading Josh’s mind, the 2-minute ETA cue booms through the speakers.
Tyler adjusts his in-ears, checks the paint on his hands and looks toward Josh, a question in his eyes that has become tradition after ten years of Blurryface.
"Yeah, all good, all covered," Josh says lightly and glances at Tyler's neck.
Shaking off the last bit of nerves, Tyler breathes deep - in 2, 3, 4 and out 2, 3, 4, 5 - and Josh copies him.
"All right, let's get out there. Mase, make us proud and try snapping some more pics of the fans, those have looked amazing last night. Mark, no notes." Into a microphone backstage he says, " Shap, remember what we talked about yesterday. Try and leave the lights on me a second or two longer after Heavydirtysoul. I'm tryna have a little moment of gratitude, I guess, the people seem to like it. Okay, let's make this a good one, everybody."
It's moments, or rituals rather, like this when Josh really grasps Tyler's affinity for this. Completely locked into his craft, nothing else but the thought present to make this show better than the last. There's always room to improve. Josh is just grateful that his best friend is so good with words and can easily switch between friendliness and authority.
Everyone gets into position and Josh and Tyler share a glance. A calm washes over Josh. This is good. He knows this. He's been doing this for well over a decade.
He sees similar thoughts rushing behind Tyler's eyes as they bump their fists together and interlock their pinky fingers.
"Good luck," Tyler says softly, the quiet words just meant for Josh.
"Yeah, you too," he responds just as tenderly before turning toward the stage and running up the few stairs so he can climb his throne.
...
The show goes fine. Everything is as it should, everyone is on cue and the crowd is simply mind-blowingly engaging.
Josh's mind is in total harmony with his drums, not letting anything but the singer in front of him distract him. He waves to a few fans in the front row, smiles when Mark reaches him with his phone or camera, and puts on a show.
He's grown used to Tyler pulling crazy stunts on stage. He even participates now, climbing whatever tower or building seems appropriate for Drum Show. But he must admit to himself that the unpredictability of Tyler frightens him just a little bit every now and then.
So when his co-worker, best friend and favourite person in the entire universe decides to up his jump from his piano for Overcompensate, Josh’s heart might stutter just a little out of rhythm. When said person drops to his knees - that must be black and blue at this point - in front of Josh’s drums and looks at him with something akin to desperation during The Contract, all rhyme and reason leave his brain and he catches himself thinking, "Shit, what'd I do?"
Of course, this is all part of their show. Every movement of theirs is carefully thought out and most are communicated amongst the group. Improvisation is a must, however, and so neither Tyler nor Josh cease to surprise the other.
Josh is aware of this, of course he is, but sometimes, sometimes, he is caught off guard and it feels a little more challenging to differentiate between reality and fiction, between now and then, between here and - Dema, essentially. The lore is one of their biggest achievements and he is unbelievably proud of it. But it does leave him wondering about how much of it is still real today.
He knows more of Tyler than anyone else, but his mind seems like an infinite labyrinth that he keeps shut at all times. Josh’s been granted a few keys to some doors of this imaginative place, but he may never grasp the full extent of its influence on Tyler. He doubts that Tyler does, too.
So, Josh is worried. Sometimes.
...
The near-scare of the Overcompensate jump is over quickly, already fading into the back of Josh's mind. That's just Tyler. He knows him.
The Contract starts playing and he feels at ease again. Every hit of his drums is ingrained in his body, every rise and fall of his arms seems familiar. He can practically play in his sleep. It's just way too much fun to be falling asleep to.
The crowd is thrumming in anticipation as their team lifts the platform onto the few lucky - or unlucky, depending on one's mindset - fans that get to hold Tyler.
Josh usually keeps his eyes closed while drumming, to keep distractions at bay but moreso because he really is enthralled by what they're creating every other night. He tries to lock that feeling into a cabinet in his mind palace, so when he's old and grey he may think back and relish in the good old days - pun not intended.
That being said, he knows the routine. He knows when Tyler does what in the set and so he opens his eyes to glance at the figure climbing the platform. His universe carried by approximately half a dozen people, their fans, that have been queuing and waiting in sunshine and rain all day. He trusts them with his life, really, he does, but... Tyler's life is beyond his control.
So, Josh keeps a lookout. Just in case. He mentally stamps down on the whisper that reminds him that there wouldn't be much he could change from behind his drumset, were Tyler to fall.
During that one Reading and Leeds festival set, he came eerily close to abandoning his drums and forgetting the show in order to get to Tyler and free him from grasping hands. He knows that Tyler tolerates and even enjoys their fans' touches at shows, but that night seemed almost aggressive, especially when inebriated casual, or not at all listeners got involved. When Tyler came into view again while climbing his platform Josh felt like he could breathe again. But only for the split second before he saw the state of Tyler’s shirt.
Just thinking back on that night lets an unwelcome chill travel down his spine. He's rarely ever felt so useless and out of control in his life.
Now on the platform for The Contract, Tyler lets his mic circle over his head by the cord. Also routine. Josh tries to stifle his unnecessary anxiety by hitting his drums harder.
He watches as Tyler brings the mic back to his mouth. He's gotten extraordinarily well at multitasking, keeping an eye on Tyler and playing his drums.
But then Tyler moves his hands again and fumbles with the cord. Josh squints his eyes and wills his contacts to work as a magnifier just this once. What's he doing now? he thinks.
His heart stutters a little, once again toeing the line between now and then and here and there. Tyler's just made a noose out of the mic cord. The very thing that saves him over and over again, his music, his purpose, turned into a weapon.
Josh wonders how long he's been doing that at their shows. He also wonders if he missed any signs of Tyler getting bad again.
It's an ebb and flow, never really leaving but sometimes fading into something lighter to bear. Josh knows that feeling, having dealt with anxiety his entire life and experiencing a depressive episode every now and again. He knows. But what has he missed?
His heart aches for Tyler, and for himself. He wishes, he could help, wishes, he could take some of that weight and carry it himself. What's mine is your's.
Josh makes a mental note to check in on Tyler after this show. It might just be for show. He hopes.
Overcompensate and The Contract done, the track moves into Center Mass. And Center Mass is- It’s like a direct window into Tyler's soul. It's rawer than any of the songs they've put out in a while. And that translates on stage and beyond.
The crowd is packed with people, a third of which seem to be crying by the time the bridge plays. Singing, screaming, really, along to Tyler's rough voice.
And Tyler? He gets more and more captivated by his own lyrics and possibly the memories and feelings he associates with them. His mannerisms so familiar to Josh that he almost doesn't notice just how different times have gotten.
This isn't 2011. This isn't supposed to be Tyler desperately crying into the sky, asking for salvation.
But somehow it's exactly what seems to be happening. And every night, Tyler seems to transform more and more into a past version. A beautiful version, a raw one, don't get him wrong. But it was so- uncontrollable. The pain bursting at the seams of Tyler's whole being, trying to find a way out before consuming, yes, disintegrating, its vessel. It even looked cathartic. Necessary at the time. Not now, 15 years later.
The unknowing of it all is what scares Josh the most. Does this behaviour indicate a relapse of some sort, is it just an entertainment bit (highly unlikely, knowing Tyler), or does this song simply bring out the part in Tyler that craves the physicality of pouring his soul into the performance? Stimming and screaming and spasming and shaking. He needs to know.
But for now he just watches. Watches Tyler go down, placing his unoccupied hand over his eyes and moving quickly to his hair, gripping it with a strength that must be painful. All sound drowned out, Josh's body is one and his mind is another. He keeps playing and on beat, but his thoughts are with Tyler.
In his in-ears he hears not only the click track but also Tyler's voice. He hears it breaking on certain words and getting louder on others. He hears whispers that the crowd would never be able to recognize.
In that moment, Tyler presents his heart on a platter and Josh urgently wishes that the audience picks up on and appreciates that.
The song ends with tears rimming Josh's eyes.
The rest of the set seems like always, but maybe he is just too much in his head to notice any changes. Even Tyler's comments to and about Josh fly completely over his head. He just smiles brightly and nods.
It's beyond him, how Tyler can mask everything he just showed to the whole world so easily and continue on like it was nothing. Like it didn't just make Josh stop breathing in an attempt to give life to his partner instead. However that might work, Josh would figure it out.
And then Nico And The Niners morphs into Heavydirtysoul.
And Tyler draws his Clancy stole around his neck tighter and tighter and tighter. He seems entirely in his head out there. Josh panicks a little then, and moves to his mic on his left, prepared to speak into it and break Tyler's trance before he kills himself.
As it is, Tyler catches himself before Josh can open his mouth to utter words of worry. Maybe Josh is overreacting. Maybe this is all calculated. Whether it is or not, his heart is in his throat and if he were to loosen his fingers around his drum sticks, they would surely tremble.
He has nothing against Tyler being expressive like this. It's who he is and it's what makes this band so meaningful. Josh just really feels the need to check in on him.
They end with Trees, their favourite to perform live, and their energy seeps into every inch on this field. He swears he can feel the jumping crowd underneath his feet, a constant vibration full of life and joy and hope.
They look at each other then, arm in arm, tapping 1, 2, 3 - I love you, I'm proud of you, Let's do this again - times on each others' shoulders, and beam.
It was a great show, as predicted, although Josh was scared half the time.
He squeezes Tyler a little closer, then lets go.
"It was pleasure playing for you tonight. Thank you, you were absolutely amazing. We're Twenty One Pilots, and so are you. See you next time. Peace," Tyler says into the microphone, and starts walking toward the side of the stage, his hand still up in a peace sign.
Josh stays a little longer, as usual, and tries to take in as many people and impressions as he can. He smiles and waves and mouths thank you's before following Tyler, who's just on the edge, waiting for him with a grin on his face. He looks electric.
"That was insane!" Tyler exclaims as they reach the bottom of the stairs and grab their ice-cold waters. Their team gives them towels to dry off so they can get the post-show talk in as quickly as possible, as everyone is tired and past their bedtime.
Josh tries to catch a breath, heart still beating heavily in his chest from exertion. "Yeah," he huffs, "it was. The crowd was intoxicating tonight."
"Exactly!"
He seems fine now, Josh thinks and pushes all worries away for further inspection when they would be alone.
"Everyone, great work tonight. No notes yet, but let's actually make this an early night and rewatch footage tomorrow. We've got two days off, anyway. Any thoughts, mistakes or improvements you have, write 'em down somewhere so we can pick up tomorrow. Have a good night!" Tyler continues, ever the business man.
Josh can only nod and bump his fists against his friends'.
They are walked into their shared green room to change and calm down and then they are alone. Mark is next door, packing his equipment and getting ready for the bus.
Tyler gets to undressing and changing into comfortable clothes immediately, then moves on to wiping off his paint.
Josh is restless and yet unmovable. His thoughts are a whirling mess and he still has trouble evening out his breaths.
"Tyler, I- I think, we gotta talk," he utters at last.