dsmp songshots

song for josh

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗/ 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:
[suicide, death]

𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌:
song for josh - frank turner
⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

this is different from my other songshots as the song is actually included within the story rather than being hinted at.

don't start the song yet, it will be obvious when you should play it.

♩✧･ﾟ♬✧･ﾟ♪: *✧♩･ﾟ:*

"does anyone know where the water bottles are?"

joe's voice ripped through the previously silent room, three of the four other boys turning to him.

ash leaned back on his chair, pointing towards a table by the side of the room, "just down there."

the light-haired boy nodded thanks, allowing a painful quiet to settle back over them.

for a group that was usually extremely rowdy, this was not a usually welcomed atmosphere.

ash cleared his throat, george, joe, and mark all turning to him- wilbur's gaze remained glued to the floor in front of him.

"wil?" he spoke, voice slightly shaking, worried about his friend, "you okay?"

the brunette nodded weakly, still looking intensely down at the carpet.

quiet, again.

george felt as though he wasn't being very helpful- he was invited on their tour to help with wilbur, but he wasn't really doing a good job.

"is there anything i could do wil?" george offered.

he was quickly shut down with a snappy, "i'm fine george, fuck off."

george just nodded weakly, walking to the other half of the room to face away from the group and blinking back his tears.

wilbur noticed george's movements, standing up and making his way over to the shorter brunette.

"i'm sorry," he apologised, pulling the other boy into a tight hug, "i shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

george hugged back, sniffing out a quiet, "it's okay, you're hurting."

wilbur tightened his grip around his best friend, "yes but it's not just me," he replied, eyes darting around the room, reading the sad looks of his band members, "we're all struggling."

"not as much as you."

"i suppose not," wilbur agreed, throat burning as he tried not to cry.

the boys pulled out from the hug as the door to the dressing room pushed open, kristin walking in with a smile.

a fake smile, sure, but it was conforming nonetheless.

she cleared her throat, gently shutting the door, "phil um," she started, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth before continuing, "phil's just coming, he just had to do something quickly."