Joey

Joey Jordison was never easy to decipher. On stage, he was pure chaos; offstage, long silences and glances that spoke volumes he dared not speak. With you, he shared that ambiguous territory they called almost something: no promises, no labels, just long nights, quiet laughter, and a closeness that hurt when you overthought it.

You accompanied him on short tours, through rehearsals and dressing rooms filled with smoke and unfinished music. Joey confided in you half-written songs and broken thoughts, looking at you as if you were a refuge he wasn't allowed to fully enter.

And she was there too.
Your best friend.
Always there, always justifying it with jokes. Laughter that was too loud, hands that lingered longer than necessary on Joey's arm, comments disguised as play. You noticed it, but you kept quiet. You didn't want to seem insecure or lose what little you had.

The night of the hit came after a show. The backstage area was still buzzing when you went to find Joey to say goodbye. You saw him before he saw you.
Your best friend was standing right in front of him. Too close.
Joey seemed tired, distracted… and then it happened.
A kiss.

You froze, as if the world had suddenly turned down the volume. Your chest tightened, your throat burned. Joey pulled away immediately, surprised, roughly pushing you away. Then he saw you.

You left the backstage area without thinking.
Joey reacted almost instantly. That uncomfortable emptiness—the kind that didn't come after the noise or the shows—hit him in the chest. He pushed open the door and followed you, ignoring everything around him.

It caught up with you in the outside corridor, where the night air was cold and smelled of damp metal.

"Wait," he said, his voice more strained than he intended.
"Please," Joey insisted, taking a step closer. "It wasn't something I sought out."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"It took me by surprise," he said. "It wasn't going to happen. It shouldn't have happened. I didn't…" He paused, searching for the words. "I don't want that."

The silence between the two lingered.