||Jamilla Tate|| First Person ||

Concerts were never really my parents' thing back in the day, as with many other things. They viewed it as a breeding ground for all types of evil-- drug abuse, drinking, and practically anything under the sun was what they imagined them go be like. I had tried time and time again to convince my mom, at least, to allow me to see the band Thirty Seconds to Mars when they would come anywhere remotely near Cleveland, but the answer was pretty much always the same-- no.

After I came back to Cleveland, I found myself back under their roof and adhering to their rules. If they wanted me to wash the dishes, I would do them a obediently and silently. If they asked me to cook, I'd reluctantly burrow myself into the kitchen and refuse the impulsive urge to give them both the worst case of food poisoning the nation would see. In the off chance that they would ask me to jump, I would have to mumble a dejected "How high?" It was ridiculous, waiting hand and foot on the people that took me away from the one place that made me happy. But I did it. And I did it for nearly six years.

Moving into an apartment with my cousin had to be the best thing that had ever happened to me. Since my parents divorced, my mom was a little less uptight and she decided to finally make an effort at working towards a happier existence. She wasn't depressed anymore, but she still had her relapses(which I was far enough away from, in the meantime). I still had rough nights where I struggle to fall asleep, but life has been much easier ever since I left their toxic house. It had never been home to me, and it only became more apparent during the nights that followed my return. I had been trapped. I was locked in a perfectly constructed cage, and had it not been for their distraction, I wouldn't have been able to steal the key from under their noses to free myself.

And now, here I am, at my very first concert. And it just had to be theirs.

Just as I had suspected, I didn't see drugs-- and if there were any, people were doing a damn good job of hiding it. I felt at ease through the opening acts. The environment surrounding me didn't seem nearly as daunting or R-rated as my parents had once made it out to be. I was safe.

I watched in a daze as Tyler jumped across the stage with this energy that used to leave him a twitching mess in his seat back at college. One second he was at the piano, playing along to upbeat tunes, and the next he was climbing on top of stage equipment and screaming into his microphone. I was so confused, but also so in love. I loved everything that the two did on stage.

The last song of their setlist begins on a calmer note, though. The lights dimmed so that the only person you could truly see on stage was Tyler as he sang words that ran chills down my spine. Zaynab grabs my arm, a squeal escaping as she tells me: "They're playing Trees!" I nod despite not understanding.

"I know where you stand..."

His voice echoes across the room, travelling from person to person with different effects. Tyler's voice is practically drowned out as the audience sings along with him. It's gorgeous and haunting all at the same time, listening to Tyler pour his heart out on stage to be met with thousands of other hearts, all beating and all alive. In the span of a minute, I go from not understanding the emotions, to wiping away tears that shouldn't be rolling down my cheeks. Nina wraps an arm around my shoulder and sways to the music.

When the lights start to come up again, I immediately turn towards the boy that I had been avoiding looking at all night. Josh Dun is shirtless-- and sweaty. Shirtless and sweaty. And incredibly hot. I resonate with the girl in front of me who cries to her friend that he looks like sex on legs, but to the extent where I could feel myself getting a bit jealous. This is my Josh, the Josh that I had fallen in love with in the span of a couple of weeks back in Columbus. This is the Josh that held me and made me his own, his hands around my waist and his lips against my neck. This is my Josh, but he isn't mine all at the same time. I gave him up when I boarded that train out of Columbus-- when I ignored his apology and avoided him for good.

Josh plays with this passion that I never quite noticed was in him. He doesn't simply hit the drums to the beat, but rather moves with it. His eyes seem to be half-lidded, as if in a trance of some sort, as he plays his instrument to the best of his abilities. It's mesmerizing to watch him, the boy who never truly had much passion for any one thing alone, fine tuning his skills into being a musician.

Suddenly, Tyler says something that's nearly incoherent. He walks across the stage, quickly jumping down to ground level as the screams in the pit grow louder. Josh steps out from behind his drums as well, joining Tyler as their crew begin to pull out these large, black, square-shaped panels.

In a matter of seconds, to my amazement, Tyler and Josh are standing on top of the crowd. They're both equipped with a single drum, and they make eye contact as they raise their sticks into the air. They come down with a large thud, and then they're playing a beat that gets everyone moving their feet. I'm screaming for some reason, tears still on my cheeks, as Zaynab and Nina pull me to dance along with them. I'm cheering with everyone, a legitimate mess, as the boys rile the crowd up into their finale.

When the concert is finally over, I feel strange. It was the most spiritual yet non-religious experience I'd ever had-- it leaves me feeling bare. I feel like all the hatred and worry and anxiety that I had entered the venue with is gone, dissipated with the screams of the crowd. My heart is thudding in my chest like it never has before, beating to a fading tune as people begin to reluctantly file out of the concert hall. Zaynab and her sister lead the way out as Nina and I follow, still dazed.

After a long while of shuffling my feet as we slowly make our way out of the cramped building, we finally make it outside. The fresh air is a nice change, something that I embrace completely as I drop to the grass a few steps from the door. I spread my arms out as I lie down, inhaling slowly as I try to calm my racing heart. Nina plops down besides me, exhaling loudly.

"How about that, then..." Nina mumbles under her breath, just as overwhelmed as I am. Zaynab, who is still bubbling with nerves, sits down next to us.

"I have to open the store early tomorrow morning, but dang, that was so worth it." Zaynab says breathlessly. I nod my head, happy that I'm not working tomorrow-- I could sleep in until 2 PM if I felt like it.

We sit there for a little while longer, unsure of what to do next. Zaynab and her sister reluctantly leave shortly after when their older brother finally arrives to pick them up. Meanwhile, Nina insists on staying a little bit longer to take advantage of the free wifi. For a bit, I watch as her thumbs tap wildly against her phone's screen, updating her statuses and shooting out text messages. Waiting for her to finish updating her social medias, I lay back on the grass once again and close my eyes.

"Yo, Jamz," Nina says, nudging my leg with her foot. I screw my face up, peeking out of one eye to look up at her. "Let's go get something to eat." She says, holding her hand out for me to grab. I take it and manage to get to my feet.

"What do you wanna eat?" I ask as I follow after her. "I'm thinking pizza?"

"There's a Papa John's down the street," she tells me, leading the way quite easily. As we depart from the venue's grounds, I feel a bit bad for leaving. Josh had spoken to me for the first time since our fallout in college, and his first words were a plea for me to stay for a little bit longer. I felt a bit of a moral obligation to stay just a little bit longer, but my growling stomach temporarily beat my conscience. I followed my cousin wordlessly.

Entering the pizza shop, Nina immediately excuses herself to the bathroom. She tells me to find a booth in the mostly empty pizza store and wait for her before ordering. I quickly find a seat for the both of us, settling into the red leather seats. I stare mindlessly at the TV screen hanging from the wall, waiting patiently for her to return. I was getting a little restless until she came back, a smile on her face as she tosses her bag onto the booth couch opposite of me.

"Cheese slice with a Coke, yeah?" She asks as I slide a ten dollar bill across the table to her. She pockets it swiftly before pulling her own wallet out of her bag.

"You know what's up," I smile at her before she walks past me to the front of the store, getting ready to order our food. I get comfortable in my seat, pulling out my phone so I could scroll through my Instagram feed.

Nina returns a couple of minutes later, carefully balancing our food as she approaches the table. I rise to help her and relieve her of the burden of my food, setting it down onto the table quickly. She passes me two napkins before she settles in herself, setting her iPhone onto the table next to her.

"So what did you think of the concert?" Nina asks for conversation, uncapping her bottle of Sprite. I shrug my shoulders as I finally put my phone down onto the table.

"They were incredible." I say flatly. "Like, astounding. They're doing something incredible with their lives." Nina frowns when I say that, but I can't help it. I've been stuck in the same position since I returned home to Cleveland-- work, home, eat, sleep. The worst part is that my job is just that-- a job. I don't have a career, and by the looks of it, I don't know if I'll ever have one. "Look, Nina, you can't blame me."

"Exactly, Jamilla-- I don't." Nina says sharply. "You need to stop with this self-deprecating nonsense. You're trying and that's all that matters."

I roll my eyes and scoff. "I've been 'trying' for the past eight years, Nina. Trying isn't cutting it." She doesn't respond, instead taking a slow sip of her soda while eyeing me angrily. I cross my arms over my chest and turn my head, staring out the window tiredly. Why can't anyone let me mope?

Nina and I don't talk for a while after that. She chews her pizza passive aggressively while scrolling through her social medias, refusing to speak to me. I don't show it, but it bothers me. I couldn't help myself when it came to moping-- it's like destiny hates me. The one good thing that ever happened to me is somewhere across the street, signing autographs for people who adore him the way I once did. Yet here I am, sitting in a pizza shop, defenceless. How could I talk to him when I'm so clearly in the wrong? I spent years pretending that it was all Josh's fault, but how could I really expect him to react? I lied to him for weeks and destroyed his trust-- I didn't deserve him or Tyler or any of the good they have. It's like my life has been stuck on rewind since that moment, a constant shift of horrible moments greeting me at every corner I turn.

        I want to go home, but Nina isn't talking to me yet. I sigh and lean my head against the table, embracing my quarter-life crisis.

        At the sound of the door opening, Nina looks up. "Guys!" She smiles and quickly throws her hand into the air, waving at whoever has entered. I turn around in my seat, trying to catch a glimpse of who she's talking to.

        "Hey, Nina," Tyler Joseph grins happily as he walks over to us, a blue haired boy trailing behind him less confidently. I clasp my hand over my mouth as I watch them-- Tyler slides smoothly into the seat next to me while Joshua swiftly sits down across from me, right next to Nina. She looks over at me with a faltering grin as Tyler throws and arm around my tense shoulders. I can't speak-- I only stare at her blankly, petrified.

        "Surprise!" She cheers weakly. Josh looks over at her and nods, chiming in.

        "Surprise," his voice cracks.