Warnings: An argument takes place & some self-doubt from both Tyler and the reader

Word Count: 1927

Author's Note: This was an one of two entries I did for a writing challenge on Tumblr! The prompt that I was given is bolded within the fic :)

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You idly fiddled with your sweatshirt strings as Tyler scribbled down some words in his notebook. The two of you had been in the middle of a nice conversation when he had abruptly cut you off in order to write down some idea that had popped into his head. It wasn't anything new, ever since he had started the songwriting process for the next album, he would whip out his notebook to write down ideas anytime and anywhere.

"Did you think of anything good?" you asked, assuming that your previous conversation was old news by this point.

"No," he grumbled as he snapped his notebook closed. "It's just another lyric that doesn't fit anywhere else."

"Do you want to go on a walk or something? It might help clear your head."

You subconsciously crossed your fingers, hoping that he would take you up on your offer. As much as you loved and supported him, it had been hard to pull his attention away from songwriting over the last few weeks.

He shook his head, "I just need to get one song done today. Or even a chorus. Something."

It was hard to mask your disappointment, but you put on a smile. "Just don't put too much pressure on yourself, ok? The best lyrics are the ones that come to you naturally."

You reached out and lightly rubbed his back. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips for a brief moment before disappearing again.

"I just really want to make a career out of this, you know? It's my dream. And in order to do that I need to be great."

"You are great, Ty. I know you can make this work."

He shrugged and grabbed his notebook. Rather than writing down lyrics, he began to draw in the margins of the paper. You hated to see him getting so down on himself.

"You know, Molly was telling me about how her cousin got a book deal. I think it's a pretty big company too, but I can't remember which one she said it was."

Tyler stopped drawing and turned to face you. His eyebrows were furrowed, "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

You were a bit taken aback by his change of tone. Slowly, you removed your hand from his back and dropped it into your lap.

"I just thought it might give you some hope. People we know are getting successful. That could be you, Ty."

"No, I get it. We all know somebody who knows somebody who's doing great."

"Ty, I didn't mean it like-"

"Just stop, Y/N. You try to act like you know what I'm going through, but you don't. You have a college education and a nice job all lined up for you. You could never understand."

He opened his notebook and began to write down more lyrics. You just sat and stared the table, trying desperately to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat. Tyler had never snapped at you like that before, but he was too busy writing to even notice how upset he had made you.

"I'll be upstairs," you muttered.

Tyler didn't even look up as you left the table. You wiped a tear away from your cheek as you climbed the stairs and made a beeline for the bedroom that you two shared. As soon as the door was shut behind you, you leaned against it and buried your face in your hands.

You hated that you were so upset over this. Tyler was just frustrated and you knew he didn't mean the things that he said, but something about the tone that he had used while talking to you just set something off within you. Ever since the two of you had gotten together, you had tried your best to support him and his music in any way that you could. You had liked to think that you had at least some semblance of an idea of what he was going through, but apparently he didn't agree.

You pushed some hair back from your face and began to walk the length of the room in some attempt to keep yourself from breaking down too much. All you needed to do was calm down a little and then you could go downstairs and talk things out with Tyler. He would feel bad as soon as you told him that he had upset you. Or at least, you hoped he would.

You walked over to where Tyler's keyboard was tucked into the corner of the room, thinking of the countless times that you had sat on the bed and watched him play. Your favorite moments were when he would try to come up with melodies. He would sit at his keyboard for hours, trying out different notes and writing them down as he went. There was something so fascinating about watching him write songs.

You traced your fingers over the keys for a few seconds before you started to play, hoping that it would have the same calming effect as when Tyler played. He had taught you a few of his older songs, but they never quite seemed to stick in your mind. You had just remembered the intro to Implicit Demand for Proof when there was a soft knock on the door.

You immediately stood up from the keyboard and turned to the door, hoping that Tyler hadn't seen you playing it. He opened the door just enough that he could slide in and then closed it softly behind him. His notebook was still in his hand, but he quickly set it on top of the dresser.

"Can we talk?" he asked quietly.

You nodded and took a seat on the bed. He sat down next to you and rested a hand on your knee.

"I'm really sorry about snapping at you earlier, Y/N. I know you were just trying to help me feel a little better, but my head gets so wrapped up in comparing myself to other people that hearing about their success just makes me feel even worse. But you didn't mean like that and I shouldn't have gotten mad at you over it."

You rested one of your hands on top of his, "Thank you for apologizing, Tyler. I'm just worried about you and want to make sure you're taking care of yourself."

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, reaching up to run his free hand through his hair. "And what I said about you not getting what I'm going though... you do get it. Better than anyone else, actually. I guess sometimes I just get so caught up in feeling like I'm alone in all of this that I forget."

"I'm going to have your back through all of this, no matter what happens. I'll always be your number one supporter."

"Thank you," he smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. "Speaking of supporting me, can we actually talk through some stuff? I've been bottling a lot of it up and I just need to talk through it."

"Of course."

You moved further back on the bed so that you could sit more comfortably. Tyler did the same, although he scooted a bit closer to you so that he could rest his legs against yours. He fiddled with a button on his shirt for a moment before he began to speak.

"This new album," he started. "I just want it to be perfect, you know? The last one did decent, but decent isn't enough to make a living out of. And now Chris and Nick are talking about having to leave the band, and I don't think I can do this without them."

He pulled his hand away from yours and covered his face. You reached out and rubbed his arm as you tried to think of the right thing to say.

"Ty, that was an independently produced album. All you need is a label to work under. Your music is fantastic. It speaks to people. Do you know how many times I've listened to it on bad nights when I just need to hear your voice?"

Tyler moved his hands away from his face and muttered a quiet, "Yeah."

"And wasn't Chris talking about a drummer he knew that might be able to take his place? What was his name... Jake?"

"Josh."

"Josh, right. You haven't even heard this guy play yet, he might be even better than Chris. This could be good for the band."

He shook his head, "I just don't think that I can do music anymore. This isn't what I'm meant to do."

"Tyler Joseph," you reached forward and put a hand under his chin so that he would look at you. "You have something special, alright? And I know it's hard right now because you're trying to write an entire album and that's a lot of pressure to be putting on yourself, but you're doing something amazing. The melodies and little fragments of lyrics that I've heard will make amazing songs. I just know it."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

Tyler smiled and reached forward so that he could pull you into a hug.

"I love you, Ty."

"I love you too," he mumbled into your shoulder. "Thank you for never giving up on me."

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"Listen," Tyler whispered.

Both of you stood silently on stage, listening to the hum of conversation on the other side of the curtain. None of the fans were aware that you were standing there while they waited patiently for the start of the show.

"This is crazy," you said quietly. "That sounds like so many people."

Tyler reached over and laced his fingers with yours, "That's because it is a lot of people."

You tugged on his hand a little so that he was close enough that you could wrap an arm around him. He laughed a little and rested his head on your shoulder.

"You made it, Ty."

He gave you a light squeeze, "We made it. I couldn't have done this without you."

The two of you were interrupted by Josh joining you on stage. He smiled when he saw the two of you holding on to one another.

"They want us backstage in a couple minutes," he said.

"Tell them I'll be there in just a second. I'm enjoying this moment for now."

Josh gave him a pat on the shoulder before disappearing backstage. Tyler was still leaned on your shoulder and you could just make out the smile on his face.

"Sometimes I wish I could just stand here with you forever. No worries. No responsibilities. Just you and me."

"And all the fans," you giggled.

"Yes, and all the fans."

After a few minutes of you two standing in silence, Tyler finally stepped away from you. He kept your fingers intertwined as he led you backstage, away from the quiet hum that had once surrounded you.

"I should get up to my seat so that I don't miss anything," you said, fixing a loose strand of his hair.

"I'll miss you," he laughed.

You shook your head and planted a quick kiss on his lips before walking off with a security guard. As you walked, you couldn't help but think back to the long nights spent watching Tyler sit at his piano tapping out the same melodies that he now played on stage in front of thousands of fans.

It was hard not to smile as you thought of how far he had come.