blues and pinks

Classic Rock Fan Problem #1

When someone asks who your crush is and once you answer they reply with “who?” So you tell them to google them and once they do they’re like “ewwwww he’s a raisin”……ya kinda just sigh, take their phone, and type in ‘young’ after their name.

The Run & Go

An au where Tyler and Josh are criminals. 


JOSH’S POV

The Day Of

The screams have become background noise.  I can hear them but they’re muffled and far away.  Logically, I know that I should be in pain.  But, instead, I’m staring up at the ceiling and there’s this beautiful, glass chandelier reflecting a thousand different shades of color and honestly, it’s not so bad.  There’s blues and yellows and pinks and greens, and it seems like the more commotion there is erupting in the building, the more the colors sway and jump around.  It makes me think of you, so bright and vibrant and free.  A thousand different shades and layers, each one more beautiful than the last.

I wish that I could breathe better, but the cloth from my mask was covering up my mouth and it made the air seem so hot.  I can see my chest rising and falling from the bottom of my eyes, but it’s not in rhythm, it’s choppy and shallow.  Unnatural.  Desperate.

There’s so many different noises to differentiate from.  There’s the cries for help.  Some people are sobbing.  Some are yelling.  There’s the sirens outside, growing more and more intense as the entire Boston police department shows up.  There’s a crunching sound nearby, someone stepping on shattered glass as they attempt to run.  There’s more gunshots.  More screams.  

Someone almost steps on me in all the commotion, or maybe they did.  It doesn’t matter though, I can’t really feel the rest of my body anyway.

In the heat of it all, someone’s grabbing my arm.  Their silhouette blocks my view from the chandelier and I want to protest, but then Tyler’s features come into focus and I let out a shaky sigh of relief.  

He looks worried, his mouth’s moving, forming words that I can’t understand, but he’s not hurt.  He’s here, alive and well.  Tyler’s got both hands on me, gripping my arms and pressing down on my torso, looking from my chest to my face, back and forth.  I briefly wonder why he keeps doing that.  It’s only when he raises his hands, to cover up his wide, gaping mouth, that I see the glistening, red, liquid all over his skin.  He’s covered in blood.  My blood.  

The sight of it snaps me back into reality, which, in all honesty, isn’t ideal.  That’s when the pain hits.  It’s a searing, ripping sensation in my chest.  There’s pressure and heat and it just _hurts. _I try to call out, but when I open my mouth, there’s this gurgling noise and a bitter, irony taste in my mouth.

“Oh God—“ Tyler gasps as he quickly presses down on my chest once again.  

I sputter, blood spewing in the air with each breathe I take.

Tyler’s telling me to hold on just a little longer, that the van would be here any second.  But it’s hard to listen.  Amidst it all, I suddenly think of the trip to Jamaica that I never got to take.  I think of the white, sandy beach.  The fresh ocean air.  The cool drink in my hand.  I can picture it.  Or at least everything I hoped it would be.  The pain starts to go away.  Tyler blurs out of focus, and the world around me starts to narrow in.  I think of the pizza place on fifth avenue that I never tried, or the Fenway tickets I never bought.  I think of the letter I wish I had written to my mom.  

I think of hundreds of places I never went and thousands things I didn’t do, but the last thing that pops into my head before the whole world goes dark, is you.

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Laurence Philomène aka Laurence Philomène Olivier (Canadian, b. 1993, Montreal, Canada)  Photographers On Tumblr  1: Pink Study, 2014  2: Billy, 2016  3: Self, 2011  4: Edwin/Pink Study #3, 2014  5: Unknown Title/Date  6: Lavender Study #5 from Color Studies, 2014  7: Wolfie As Me, 2015  8: Lavender Study, 2014