Work Text:
From the moment Taylor rolled out of bed he knew it was an off day. He felt fuzzy, dissociative, hazy. A simmering pot of small grievances had boiled over into keeping him awake every night for a week. The unfamiliar hotel room was too big and the blinds didn’t close. The scratchy sheets were so sensorily distracting he’d been forced to throw them aside. He’d forgotten his toothbrush on the bus and the walls were too thin. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem; the safety blanket of touring with his best friends, with his family, made confiding in them almost too easy. Hayley and Zac were eager to alleviate even his smallest discomfort. One text was all it took to start an impromptu movie night or group call. They treated his petulant whining like something worthy of time and love and care.
Taylor was already too greedy. He knew he needed to cut back, to indulge less in the luxury of their affection. Hayley and Zac were busy too. In comparison to him? They worked like dogs. For several cities in a row, the extroverted duo hadn’t even slept in the same hotel as the rest of the band. They had to be awake and out the door before dawn just to keep in step with a neverending list of engagements. Doing in person interviews was yet another responsibility they’d taken on together for his sake. Taylor wouldn’t dare ask for more than that. And yet, for the first time since he was a literal teenager, he was going to be late for soundcheck. All over a little lost sleep.
Raw was the only way to describe how he felt. Scraped down to his most core components, a skeleton of shame and anxiety. A few days alone had reduced him to nothing and it was embarrassing.
“T!” Hayley shouted the moment he arrived. She nearly knocked him over in a running hug. “Where the fuck have you been? We were starting to get worried!”
Taylor surveyed the usual backstage chaos feeling guiltier than ever. Nothing ever went right with live performance, but that was no excuse to be a nuisance.
“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, tone decidedly light. “Traffic was really bad and I slept through my alarm. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. You…slept through it?” Hayley asked. She took a step back to study his expression. “Are you sick?”
“Of course not, Hayles.” He said, managing a smile. “You’d be the first to know.” The scrutiny was written all over her face.
“I’m just shocked, dude.” She smirked. “This hasn’t happened since we were, what, nineteen?”
“Phoenix, 2009. I couldn’t find my lucky pick.”
“We were all late from scrambling to help you find it. Management was so pissed.”
“Rightfully so.”
“Oh, for sure.”
They broke out into laughter as Taylor stared down at their interlocked hands. Even if it was an off day, he’d be fine.
Someone yelled to announce the start of rehearsal and the pair finally pulled away. Hayley grabbed Taylor’s hand one last time. “Just tell me or Zac if something’s wrong, okay? I’m serious.” He nodded, and with that they were off.
Route memory kicked in, as it always did. Playing guitar came as naturally to Taylor as speaking or blinking. Even on his worst day, it was the one reflex he knew he could rely on. Half the setlist flew by in what felt like three seconds.
“Psst! Tay!” Zac whisper-yelled from across the stage. “Were you really late?!” The whisper did absolutely nothing to lower his voice. If anything, it projected it.
Taylor took off his guitar and made his way over. “Yeah, sorry. Is it really that big of a deal?”
“It’s like the biggest deal!”
“I really am sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, T. This is like an omen or something. A once in a lifetime historical event.”
“Aren’t omens bad?”
“Either way!” He exclaimed. “I can barely remember the last time you were late to, like, anything. The rest of the band thought you were kidnapped when you weren’t at breakfast. Everyone was floundering.”
“Should I apologize?” Taylor asked, staring sheepishly at the floor.
“No one minds, dude. We’re aghast. Shocked and awed.”
“But we’re off schedule.”
“Are we ever on schedule?”
“Sorry, I guess you’re right.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” Zac smiled, chipper as ever. “By the way…Hayley thinks you’re sick or something?”
“When did she even get the chance to—“
“We communicate telepathically.” He deadpanned.
“I’m not sick. She would’ve sat my ass down if I was.”
Zac nodded, stroking his mustache. “And yet she’s still worried. Suspicious, indeed.”
Taylor flicked his gaze to the ceiling. “Can you just tell her I’m fine? She’d never believe me.”
“Are you, though?” He asked, leaning forward on his chair.
Vulnerability didn’t come easy to Taylor. For years his friends had to outright drag it out of him. To feel so deeply loved and horrendously exposed at the same time was terrifying. He’d gotten better with age, but there were still days like today. Days when he knew there was nothing to gain from hiding but still feared that there was something to lose.
“I barely slept last night, but I’m good otherwise.” Taylor said, willing his entire body to contain its anxious fidgeting. It wasn’t a lie- he had slept awful that night. He just didn’t feel the need to mention that it was a weeks-long recurring issue.
“You could’ve called, you know.”
“Waste of time.” He replied. Zac’s face fell. “No offense! God, that sounded so mean, sorry. I mean like…You guys don’t need to waste time worrying about me when you’re already so busy? I can take care of myself. Seriously.”
“Alright,” Zac sighed. “Guess we’re kinda over the top, huh?”
“Not at all.” Taylor said, feeling guilty all the while.
The sound of people filling into seats never failed to put Taylor’s stomach in knots. It happened every night, at every show he’d ever done, yet he always felt just as (if not more) anxious as the first time. When he was younger, back before anyone cared about his mental health, his ritual had been to find the farthest, darkest room from the stage and rot there for as long as he could before showtime. It hadn’t been necessary in years; Hayley and Zac’s presence was usually more than enough to keep him afloat. But Taylor was a bundle of nerves that night and it was too much to burden them with his bullshit right before performing. He needed to cope by himself for once. Years of experience made him pretty good at scoping places out but every so often there was a miss. He prayed the closet he found earlier wasn’t locked or occupied. Even then, he could lock himself in a bathroom or hide in a stairwell. Anything not to be seen, not to think, not to be himself for just a brief moment. The fans deserved a good show and that was the only way he knew how to give it to them.
Taylor excused himself and sidled past every member of the band in his mad dash to hide away. The need to flee was more overpowering than ever, urging him to go before it was too late. He felt numb and edgy and desperate.
“Oh my god, sorry, Tay!” someone yelled. He apologized for bumping into them (or did they bump into him?) and power walked away. His chest felt wet and hot but he ignored it. More people spoke and he ignored them too. He just needed to be alone for five minutes and he would finally be fine.
“T?! Where are you going?”
He kept walking.
“Dude, stop!”
He kept going.
“Taylor! Hey!” Hayley grabbed his arm and he stopped in his tracks to stare down at her. She softened her voice as they made eye contact. “Hello? Are you with me?”
“Yeah, I’m, uh,” he took a shaky breath, looking around at the small crowd that had formed around them. “I’m just trying to get somewhere.”
“You need to change your shirt.”
“Huh?” Taylor looked down at his chest. There was a huge coffee stain dripping down the once white fabric. When did that happen?
“Joey went to get you a shirt. Just come with me, okay?” She said, using the same tone someone would use to calm a skittish animal. “We’re going on soon.”
Every inch of his body shouted at him to run and hide. There was still time, if he could just come up with a good enough excuse. He wasn’t ready, he needed to hide, he couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting, he felt more wired than humanly possible. But the look on Hayley’s face was enough to make him concede.
Joey brought the new shirt and Brian touched up his makeup. Taylor couldn’t stop his leg from thumping. Someone had run into him holding coffee, apparently. Thankfully he wasn’t burned but the shirt was ruined. He stewed silently beside Hayley until it was time to put a guitar in his hands and plugs in his ears.
Something was going to go wrong and he knew it, felt it in his ribcage. He was going to mess up. The entire band exchanged concerned glances, as if even they could feel the potential for disaster in the air. Taylor was going to ruin the show and it’d be no one’s fault but his own.
His finger picking on You First was abysmal. He started Rose Colored Boy one step too fast and ended it one step behind. Maybe worst of all, he near fumbled the solo in Misery Business, a song he’d played with ease his entire life. It wasn’t the worst show of his career by a long shot, but he couldn’t help but see it as the beginning of the end.
No one approached him during teardown. Even Hayley and Zac gave him a wide berth, and any other night he would’ve appreciated that. Taylor got snappy when he messed up once, let alone three times. But now their avoidance just reinforced the cacophony of anxiety already thundering through his mind. He was the weakest link and they knew it. They were both just too nice to say it out loud.
“Night, y’all.” Taylor called out as band and crew filtered out the door. He packed his bag, thinking about all the shit his bandmates put up with for him. Tomorrow they probably had even more press to do. And Taylor was the one throwing a tantrum? How typical.
Hayley approached him first. She was always so delicate with Taylor, gentle and reassuring in ways he would never deserve. “You’re staying at our hotel tonight.”
“That’s fine.” He nodded, only for his anxiety to suddenly spike. “Wait, do we have an interview in the morning? Like, the three of us?” He was in no state to be on camera. He’d only bring them down, just like always.
“No, T,” She frowned, eyebrows furrowed. “All of our schedules have been cleared for tomorrow. We just wanna talk.”
“Oh. Good.” He said, staring into space. The adrenaline was starting to wane, leaving him floaty and exhausted. God, he was tired. “I wouldn’t wanna embarrass you guys. Not any more than I already have, anyway.” He fell asleep before hearing her reply.
The walk to the car and drive to the hotel room were all a blur. Taylor had barely any memory of how he’d arrived, but woke up the next morning buried under blankets in a king size bed. Alf laid snoozing soundly on a doggy bed near the door. Hayley and Zac were sitting on a couch faced toward the bed speaking softly.
“T?” Zac asked, looking up from their conversation. “Hayley, I think he’s awake.”
She was at Taylor’s side in what felt like an instant, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, doll. How you holding up?”
“Fine. Better, now that you’re here.” He laughed, leaning into the touch. It almost felt like normal, back before the album and the tour and the press junket. Just three people (and one dog) learning the value of each other’s company. He decided to savor the lull of quiet while it lasted, knowing it was all just building to an inevitable mental health talk.
“There’s breakfast, if you want it,” she said, brushing a stray hair from his face. The meal passed in quiet calm as Taylor ignored Hayley and Zac’s stares. They approached only after he was done, sitting on opposite sides of the foot of the bed.
“So…” Zac started. “About last night.”
“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.” Hayley added. “We just wanna know what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“Um. Sorry, I was tired. I think.” Taylor scrambled. “I was late and I played badly but it won’t happen again.”
“That’s not what we mean, bud.” Zac said lightly. “Flubs are normal. You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“Dude,” He scoffed. “I nearly ruined the show. I played like literal garbage. It was bad.”
Zac shook his head with a sigh.
“What we mean is,” Hayley interjected. “Did you have a panic attack?”
Taylor sputtered for a reply. It wasn’t their responsibility to care, shouldn’t have ever been, really.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” She pushed.
“I just- I’m sorry,” he said, barely managing to stay composed. “You don’t deserve this. This isn’t fair to either of you.”
“What’s not fair, T?” Zac asked.
“I’m a fucking leech,” he hiccuped. “You guys do so much for me, and then what? I do this shit the moment I’m left alone? It’s not okay to be a fucking, like, emotional vampire all the time. It’s so unprofessional and annoying and I rely on you too much and- and—“
“Tay, breathe,” Hayley said, cradling his face with her hand. He hadn’t realized he was hyperventilating. “It’s okay. We’re right here.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ve just felt awful, okay? For days, maybe weeks. And I didn’t tell you guys,” he said looking down at his hands. “But…I shouldn’t need you this much. I should be able to handle this by now.”
Hayley didn’t just look upset— she was pissed.
“What if it was me?”
He looked up at her. “What do you mean?”
“If I let myself fall apart and you didn’t know. If I didn’t even give you the chance to talk me out of it?”
“It’s not the same.” He mumbled.
“You haven’t ever left me alone with my thoughts when I was spiraling. Not when we were kids, not now. Not even once.”
Taylor pulled his legs up to his chest. “Because you needed it and actually deserved it. I just need to grow a fucking spine.” He laughed flatly. “Both you and Zac, at least you’re functioning. Even at your worst you pull your own weight. When I crumble it’s a fucking avalanche. I’m a burden every time. Never worth the effort.”
Zac and Hayley shared a look.
“How long have you felt that way…?”
He shrugged. “Who knows. It’s just obvious.”
“You’re worth the effort because we love you, T.” Zac said. “And nothing’s gonna change that.”
“You’re so important, Taylor. To the band, to Zac, to me. I just—“ Hayley took a shaky breath. “It breaks my heart that you can’t see what we see.”
“I can’t and I- I’m sorry.” He hiccuped. Hayley leaned closer, wiping tears from Taylor’s face that he hadn’t realized were there. “I don’t know how else to think. I’ve always felt this way.” She sucked in a pained breath, pulling him into a hug.
God, he’d done it again. Hurting everyone else with his homemade disaster, broken glass and shrapnel shards.
“Come back, big guy. I can see you thinking.”
“Sorry.” He choked.
“Stop saying that.” She said, squeezing tighter. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve seen you getting this bad.”
“Not your fault.”
“Listen, Tay.” She pulled back, staring up at him with teary eyes. “Those thoughts of yours? They’re false. They’re dangerous. It’s fucking acid and it will rot you inside out if you let it.”
“But—“
“No. I’ve been there. I know what your brain is doing, all the ways you’re justifying this shit. We will never push you away because you’re not a burden. And I’ll say that as many times as I have to.”
Taylor wanted to accept her words, he truly did. It was warm and comforting to think she may be telling the truth, but he was the acid.
Zac scooted close enough to wrap his own arm around Taylor. “You don’t need to believe us, okay? Just let us help because we want to. For our own sake.”
“Everyone needs a T.” Hayley chuckled.
“I guess that’s fine. If you don’t mind, I mean.” Taylor said. His hands were fidgeting like crazy, his heart beating a mile a minute. They were too good for him, but he could accept that. He could live with the shame if it meant more time with his family.
“I love you, Tay. So fucking much.” Hayley kissed on the cheek. “We all do. You’re incredible. You don’t deserve to feel like this.”
“I love you too, Hayles.” He whispered, their noses barely an inch apart. “And Zac too, I guess.”
Zac clutched his chest in theatrical sorrow.
“Thank you. Really.” Taylor said. He stretched and glanced at the clock on his phone. It was already 2pm. “But I should get going. It’s kinda late and I don’t wanna intr—“
They both pulled him back down.
“Nope.”
“Absolutely not.”
He looked around hesitantly. “Today was nice but…you guys are still busy. I still can’t come to any interviews. You can’t just bulldoze over everything for me.”
Hayley shrugged. “You're with us until the tour ends. I don’t care if it makes things a little inconvenient.”
“Same here.” Zac smiled. “If someone wants to interview us they can work around your schedule. Not the other way around.”
“I don’t like that.” Taylor said with a frown. “I don’t wanna inconvenience people.”
“That’s why it’s our job to inconvenience them for you!” Hayley smirked.
Taylor plopped his head onto a pillow and stared up at the ceiling, his heart too heavy to do much else. “I really missed this.” He choked. “I missed us.”
Hayley carded a hand through his hair. “There’s nothing to miss, babe. We’re right here.”
“I just kept telling myself I deserved to be alone. That you guys deserved better. My mind has been kind of scary lately.”
“We’ll get through this, okay?” Zac nodded. “Together. Just like always.”
Taylor hummed in agreement. He didn’t know if he’d ever believe them, but he wanted to understand. He wanted to be able to confide in his family without guilt, to feel confident in who he was in every context. And maybe that was enough.