Me and Him and a Bit of Music

Troy was always good at his New Years revolutions but in 2018, his resolution was changed.

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1. One

Lyrics. They're a kind of thing I need. Maybe the fans need it to, but it's my type of rant. Well, less of a rant and more of... therapy.  Something to keep me calm. My mum always sent me to therapy when I was a kid since I would always talk about this ‘Justin’ person. Nobody actually saw him, but me. Everyone thought he wasn’t real until I showed him. For a while, I thought he was just a part of my overactive, stuffed imagination. I planned not to think about him as a New Year's resolution, I decided, hey. It's 2018 let's not have thoughts about him anymore. That completely changed when I bumped into him on the street. I’ll tell you what I mean by that.

‘Mom I’m  going out for a walk.’ I say, walking down the stairs.

“Ok, Troye." She pauses. ''You are 23, you don't have to tell me everything.”

 “I know mum, you’re just..constantly worrying about me.”

“That I know, just...be back before dark.” I simply nod and throw on my black jacket, adding a full length of darkness to my outfit. More of my depression sunk in after we recorded Dark Hearts- our self-titled album. My friend and my brother decided to leave the band for college and stuff like that, leaving me alone in the band like Brendon Urie, (except he was successful and I wasn't). Granted, I could sing, play ukulele, bass, and even piano, that's really all you need, other than a drummer. I rather not be a solo artist, it's too intimidating for me. I sigh and look around before I open the door, just to make sure my mom isn’t following. She used to do that when I was a kid. I step outside into the crisp fall weather, the chill biting my nose. Silence engulfing me in a second. I stuff my hands in my pocket and walk across the street to the park, it oddly silent. Not what I like, silence leaves me alone in my thoughts.

 “Justin? You there?” I talk to myself. No answer. “Justin?”  I stop, my head merely spinning, my eyesight getting blurry and colours changing as if I was colour blind. I stop walking and lean against the willow tree which, thank god, was there. I lean against it, sliding down, the bark scratching at my back, the feeling seeping through my coat. I sit on the ground, leaves crunching underneath me. My head continues spinning, most likely lack of oxygen. I pull my knees to my chest and place my head on my knees, everything turns black.

"Wait!'' I yell after Justin whos now climbing a tree. "Wait for me.'' I stop running looking up into the willow tree, Justin sitting on the branch smiling down at me.

    "For a fifteen-year-old old boy who does some sports, you sure are out of shape.''  I let my mouth drop. "I mean, you should be able to keep up with me Troye, then again it might just be those skinny jeans."

"What's wrong with skinny jeans?" I ask him, climbing up the tree and sitting next to Justin.

"They are like I dunno, torture devices for your legs and uh, suffocaters for your uhm....ya." He goes crimson, in which I look at him.

"You are one strange guy.''

"Why do you say that?" He looks at me, leaning against the tree trunk.

"Because you ALSO wear skinny jeans, every day." He shakes his head and pulls on the fabric, it stretching.

"They aren't really skinny jeans. They just look it, I like the look of them but I don't like the un-comfort of them.'' I look down, my feet swinging, my mom coming into view, her sweater draped over her arms.

"Troye? We gotta go see Dr.Brenner. And, who were you talking to?''

"Justin.'' I smile, she frowns. My smile drops as well. Exposed, once again.

"Justin is not real.'' I'm taken back.

"He is too real! Look at him." I look over to the tree branch, Justin now is gone.

"Let's go Troye. Now.''

Colours change again, my head dizzier than ever, a new spot of my mind appearing.

"Justin?'' I whisper, knowing my mom is there. "I, uh, I know we haven't talked in quite some time...'' I get up, walking to my room and closing my door to see Justin sitting on my bed, his arms crossed. "Justin... I.''  He holds up his hand and walks over to me, embracing me in his arms.

"I understand why we haven't talked in awhile. I would do the same if I didn't want to go to therapy.''

"Can we just, be in secret now? Without my mom knowing? I don't wanna go back to therapy.'' Justin nods and whispers.

"We can see each other in our dreams, It'll be easier, neither of us will get caught from it. And if you just go to your room like you've been doing for the past 3 years, you'll do fine. You haven't brought me up since you were sixteen, you haven't been to therapy since you were sixteen, you can keep it up with having us be in secret.''

My eyes roll back as I look up, the sunlight hurting my eyes since they haven't yet adjusted. Being alone, not fitting my fancy, I repeat my former words "Uh, Justin? Are you there?'' I get tapped on the shoulder, a little taken back, I turn around.

 “Troye.” Oh, my. It's Justin...I. I was beginning to believe he was just, fake. “You.You’re real?” Justin says.

 “Uh..yeah I think so.”

“Wow. My parents and friends said you never existed.”

 I'm a little taken back, were both in the same position.  “Yeah...same.”

“How is this possible,” Justin says. “We never met before. Have we”

 “No, we never have, we only knew each other through a mindset and maybe destiny? I dunno. Maybe our brains gave us things like hallucinations and stuff like that In our dreams preparing us for a new person in our life?” We both carry on a conversation like we knew each other in person (not minds) for years.

“Yeah maybe. It's just cool to meet you in person. It doesn't make me feel...weird or awkward and stuff.  It settles my anxiety now since I know you’re actually real.’’

 “I guess you could say It settles my depression.’’ I give him a half-smile. “You know that one dream, If you had it, we were like..hanging out and I was paying my ukulele and-”

“I was playing the drums and we both said we should be in a band together? Yeah, I remember that dream, you were really upset about your band splitting.”

 “Yep...that's the one.” I look down.

“Why don’t we make that a real thing?”

 “What?”

“The band in the dream? We can continue what you love to do! Sing, ukulele and your other instruments. I could be your drummer, we can be a two-person band.”

 “That wouldn’t work…”

“It will.” Justin puts his hand on my shoulder. “Trust me. Ok? It will work. We have been in each other's minds since we were 5. Trust me. We can do it.”

 “Ok.’ I say. “Band name is the same, Dark Hearts, We can figure out an album name later, just for a start. But before we do. Just.. can you meet my mom?” Justin nods.

“It's probably best. What if she doesn't believe it's me.”

 ‘Justin. The therapists drew you thru my explanation, I have the drawings of you, she does too, she’s gonna recognize you. I promise.’’

 

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