A shiver traveled up my spine when I heard Nick’s loud voice echo down the hall. I looked at Kevin and Howie’s shocked face only a second before jumping up and stumbling out of the room, running down the hall as fast as I could. I had actually advised against Nick going to check on Brian, arguing that the best thing to do for Brian right now was to give him some space.
“Somebody help!” Nick called again, and I was choking on fear as I heard the urgency in his voice. What the hell could have happened? Behind me, I could hear the others catching up as I raced around the corner, skidding to a perfect stop in front of the open bathroom door. Nick was on the floor on his knees next to Brian. Brian was leaning awkwardly against Nick and I could see that his eyes were closed. My very first thought was that he was drunk.
“W-what the hell happened?” I stuttered, watching as Nick tried to hoist Brian up against the wall.
“He passed out,” Nick grumbled, preoccupied with holding our band mate somewhat steady.
“H-how?” I wondered, barely noticing Howie and Kevin and the others appearing right next to me.
“You wanna take a guess?” Nick snarled and finally looked up at me, anger and sadness twisting his expression into a tight grimace. “Help me get him out of here.”
“Is he okay?” Jen asked in astonishment, quickly taking a step to the side as I wrenched myself into the tiny bathroom. I reached out, sighing as I felt the steady, somewhat fast pulse when I pressed my fingers to Brian’s throat.
“He’s alright,” I muttered, maneuvering around the area with my back pressed against the wall until I could grab Brian’s legs, motioning for Nick to take a hold of his arms. “Let’s get him out of this place.”
Nick nodded quickly, lifting Brian up without much of an effort. I held onto Brian’s legs and so our parade through the hallway began. I heard the hushed voices of our followers behind me and saw their concerned looks cast our way. Brian didn’t wake up during this rough journey. I could tell he took this whole being unconscious thing very seriously.
“In there,” Jen suddenly said, running out in front of us as she opened a door to the left, “there’s a couch in there, you can put him on that.”
“Alright,” I nodded impatiently, my back starting to hurt as Nick and I carried our band mate into the room.
“There you go,” Nick mumbled as he carefully laid Brian down on the couch. The thing was too small to fit an entire Brian, so eventually his feet were forced to stick over the edge.
“Well then,” Nick said as he took a step back, wearily observing the miserable person lying on the couch.
“Did he have another attack?” I asked quietly.
“Another?”
Oh, right. Nick didn’t know about the panic attacks.
Basically, only Brian and I knew. Stupid. He should have told the others. But there was a whole bunch of things Brian should tell us that he never did. “What are we gonna do with him?” I asked, looking up at Nick.
“I swear,” Nick sighed, rubbing his face tiredly as he sat down at the coffee table across from the couch, “he was freaking out like no tomorrow. I’ve never seen something like it.”
“You need to calm him down by forcing him to breathe,” Howie popped up beside me with a glass of water in his hand.
“I tried, God knows, I tried!” Nick grumbled, “And I think he tried too, but he just couldn’t do it. It was the most scary thing I’ve seen in my life. He just really couldn’t breathe. Like, for real.”
“It’s all in his head,” Howie muttered, sitting down next to Nick.
“What if it isn’t?”
“It is though,” Howie said adamantly.
“Then we’re fucked.”
Howie shrugged absently, twisting around in his chair and sighing, “Hold on, I have to keep Kevin from calling the hospital.”
“Why is he not waking up?” Nick asked, his voice rising with a hint of panic.
“Give him a minute,” I muttered, carefully placing the glass of water Howie had pushed into my hands on the coffee table.
“It’s been ten minutes!”
“He’s fine, go get some coffee or something.” I replied. I wasn’t a stranger to panic attacks. They were nothing fun. They were the most terrifying and horrible experiences I had up to date. Sure, I had never had one so severe that I blacked out from it, but I could remember the need to just block everything out and give in to the darkness. Luckily for me, the attacks usually went away before that could happen. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed deeply. This day was dragging on for far too long. It already went wrong when I left home this morning, Ava crying like heaven and hell were crashing down. She never liked it when I left and I always found it heartbreaking the moment when I had to step out of the house. I promised her I would be home by tonight before she went to sleep, but she would have none of it, too young to understand such a promise, and kept screaming. Then later that day, Nick started screaming at Brian because Brian didn’t like his chorus and wanted to sing more leads. Then in the evening we bombarded Brian with expectations and wishes, so much so that he passed out in a bathroom not very much later.
Great day.
I muttered something as I completed the text to my wife about how I would be a bit later tonight, considering I needed to sort something out here first. She would understand, she was awesome like that. I rubbed at my eyes, feeling like I could fall asleep for a month and I didn’t look up until I heard a groan coming from the couch.
“Hey buddy,” I greeted as Brian slowly woke up and stared back at me with a blank expression. It took him a few seconds to focus on me and he frowned in confusion, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.
“Wh-?” he wanted to say something, but there was no sound coming from him. He looked like he’d been to hell and back, his hat had fallen off and was probably still lying uselessly in the bathroom and his hair stuck to his head in a messy, uncoordinated manner.
He looked nothing like Brian.
Brian wasn’t uncoordinated and messy. Brian didn’t pass out in bathrooms and the Brian I knew didn’t give up faith... ever. But the look I’d seen in this Brian’s eyes when Nick had pleaded with him to get better was not something I recognized. That moment of bare darkness in his expression had scared the crap out of me. He didn’t believe in a good outcome anymore. And if he couldn’t believe in it, then no one could.
I reached out a hand to slow him down when Brian tried to get upright, immediately noticing him wavering. He opened his mouth again, tried to say something, but just wasn’t able to. With a sigh, he let himself fall back on the couch. I could practically read how much he hated everything, off of his face. “Just take it slow there, Bri,” I muttered softly.
He groaned again, tenderly rubbing the sides of his head as he sat up slowly. He looked rather pale under the fluorescent light and I felt a stab of worry when the pained expression didn’t disappear from his face.
“Headache?” I asked cautiously.
“Very much so,” he whispered quietly. I had to strain to even be able to hear him. “What happened?”
I licked my lips and sighed, “You blacked out in the bathroom. Do you remember anything?”
He winced, carefully reaching out to the glass of water on the table in that slow, overly measured way drunk people did when they wanted to focus on something. His balance soon faltered again and he grabbed onto the edge of the couch to keep himself steady. I quickly grabbed the water and held it in front of his face. He gladly accepted and took a few sips; then frowned. “I dunno,” he sighed, leaning back against the couch, “I think I threw up.”
I grunted, my concern flaring up when I watched him squint a few times, “Dizzy?” I asked.
He nodded almost unnoticeably, “What happened?” he asked again.
“Another panic attack,” I explained carefully, “A pretty bad one, apparently.”
Brian’s eyes unfocused as he stared into the distance, “I couldn’t breathe,” he muttered quietly. “Why couldn’t I breathe?”
I shrugged helplessly, biting my bottom lip thoughtfully, “You think too much, Brian.”
A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at me, “That’s cause I have to think for the both of us.”
“Shut up,” I grinned back.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Kevin mumbled around a mouthful of what I suspected were leftover meatballs from dinner. “So Howie, Nick and I talked,” he said after he swallowed and I saw Nick and Howie return after him. “And it was decided that tour and album are postponed.” My eyes widened as I looked at Kevin. Why was I not included in this sudden decision? But before I could open my mouth to ask, Kevin raised a hand to silence me.
“But-” Brian squeaked, not usually so easily silenced by a look from Kevin, but I guess the disorientation and exhaustion from the previous ordeal did the job.
I turned around at Nick and Howie, “You guys agreed to this?” I asked incredulously.
Nick shrugged, “Not really,” he admitted, “he used his veto.” He pointed at Kevin.
“I did,” Kevin nodded sternly. “Someone had to do it.” I saw Howie nod thoughtfully, which meant he stood behind Kevin’s decision for one. Kevin probably didn’t want to take the risk of the remaining three of us to decide against it and used a veto.
Smart.
Let me explain. We make most of all decisions together, which can sometimes lead to some fairly heated debates about how and why something should happen or not. With each album cycle, we all get one veto. Most of those vetos are used on song choices, setlist picks and I even used one on an album cover once, don’t ask me why.
And now Kevin used it on postponing a tour. That sort of influence was usually never covered by a veto, but there wasn’t a rule that said he couldn’t do it.
“But,” Brian tried again, “You can’t just do that!” His voice was raw and barely audible and I could already hear him starting to wheeze again.
“Calm down,” Kevin instructed sternly, “Last to my knowledge, I can do it, and I did.”
“Then I veto your veto,” Brian said angrily. I saw Howie shake his head and Nick rolled his eyes, but Kevin remained stoic.
“It doesn’t work like that and you know it,” he explained patiently, like Brian was just a little kid throwing a tantrum, which, basically, he was, “Besides, you already used your veto on Trust Me.”
Brian’s shoulders slumped as he recalled the use of his veto. “But we need an album for the anniversary next month,” he mumbled.
“No we don’t,” Kevin stated clearly, “We’re not ready yet.”
“You mean I’m not ready yet,” Brian snarled.
“You’re not ready yet, but neither am I. Neither are any of us,” Kevin said, looking at me and Nick pointedly. I nodded slowly. I knew he was mainly doing this because of Brian, but didn’t want Brian to think he was the sole reason things got postponed. I remember when tour got cancelled because I had to go to rehab, I remember how bad that had felt very clearly.
“Who are you to say I’m not ready?” Brian grumbled lowly and his eyes narrowed dangerously. I knew he was going for a silent kill. He did that whenever he felt himself driven into a narrow spot.
“Dude! Seriously!” Nick exclaimed suddenly, his eyebrows raised and his arms wide open in disbelief, “You, like, literally passed out from stress twenty minutes ago!”
Brian looked down as his face turned red, “That won’t happen again,” he mumbled quietly.
“You don’t know that; you can’t control it,” Kevin said calmly, “And it’s very understandable, believe me. That’s why we’re doing this. Having to see you destroy yourself over this, that’s not worth it. That’s not ever going to be worth it.”
His words rang so true, it almost physically hurt. I felt a lump in my throat as Brian’s face fell, and the mask and protective walls fell with it for a second, before shooting back up. But I had seen it, I think we all had. That tiredness; that frustrated kind of self-loathing I knew of myself all too well, and the utter depression that came with it. I had the paralyzing feeling that Brian was throwing himself down a deep dark pit, and until he would reach the bottom, none of what we said would ever really get through to him. It was terrifying to me that I suddenly found myself on the other side of it, where I had to watch someone self-destruct without being able to stop it. I had to admit that it felt almost just as bad as being the one self-destructing. It was only a matter of time before Brian would break completely under this stress and pressure and I wondered if there was any way we could prevent it.
It would start by making Brian realized that we were not the enemy. That the enemy came from within himself, most likely. I stared at him while he refused to acknowledge any of us. He just stared at the table, unmoving. Kevin sighed and got up, putting on his jacket as he prepared to leave, “Jen is going to manage the postponing,” he said softly, “It’s all going to work out fine. I suggested late July for the album and the start of August for the tour. That gives us three and a half more months. We need this.”
I nodded in confirmation; I could see where he came from, as we were not halfway done with the setlist and the dance practice yet. It occurred to me that having an album out already next month was a ludicrous idea anyway. Kevin nodded swiftly, muttered a goodbye and left. After a few minutes, Nick and Howie got up as well, mumbling their goodnights before leaving. I was astonished to learn that it was nine o’clock already. I sighed as I looked at Brian, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch.
“Make sure you eat something before you leave,” I suggested softly.
Brian looked up with a icy glint in his eyes, “It’s already cold,” he grumbled before getting up, wavering only slightly as he left the room.
I closed my eyes in resignation, suddenly very lonely in the big conference room. I wondered how this situation was ever going to work.
Author's Chapter Notes:
It has only just begun...
