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Well. I guess it’s Netflix, a bottle of wine, and an early night for me, then.
I’m about to turn and leave when I hear a low sigh echo from somewhere in the flat. I squint around, suddenly noticing a crack of light outlining Josh’s bedroom door.
I perk back up. Kicking off my shoes, I pad up to his door and knock. “Josh?”
There’s no response.
“Josh? Can I come in?”
There’s a cut-off sigh, then a hitched breath. It almost sounds like someone crying. Alarm rushes through me, and I shove open the door.
Josh is sitting hunched at his desk, his head in his hands.He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose, worn T-shirt with a hole in the sleeve.
“I’m busy,” he intones, not looking up. His voice sounds weirdly choked.
I frown, glancing around. The lights are all off. “Josh? Why are you sitting in the dark?” He doesn’t move. His shoulders are heaving with uneven breaths. “Josh—”
“I said I’m busy,” he snaps, his head finally jerking up. “Layla, I don’t have time for this right now.”
I stare at him. Josh and I have bickered plenty over the last three years, but he’s never snapped at me before.
“... Josh?” I say softly. “Has something happened?”
He closes his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “Shit. Sorry, L. You can come in. I just…” He turns back to his laptop. The screen glows, illuminating his face in electric blue. He swallows thickly. “I’m sorry,” he says again.
I pause, then step inside the room, looking around.
I’ve never been inside Josh’s bedroom before. He’s a lot more private than Zack and Luke, so when I stay over, I sleep in their beds instead. I imagined his room to be as pristine and bare as an IKEA catalogue, but it’s actually a lot more cluttered than I expected. His double bed is covered with rumpled navy sheets. A handful of colourful festival lanyards are hanging on his door handle, and his walls are dotted with signed convention posters. One entire wall is lined with bookshelves, stuffed with thick-looking books. As I step closer, I realise they’re textbooks, with titles like Attachment Theory in Relationships and How to Solve Conflict and Appease the Inner Child.
I point at them. “Hang on. Do you actually know what you’re doing?”
He follows my gaze, running a hand through his ruffled hair. “Hm?”
“You say on your show that you’re not qualified,” I point out. “You have more textbooks than most people would need to buy for a five-year psych degree.”
“Well,” he says after a moment. “I want to help people. I can’t do that if I’m giving bad advice.”
I turn to look at him. He looks exhausted. His face is pale, and there are dark circles curving under his eyes. “You really care about this, don’t you?”
“What?”
“The show. I assumed you were more focussed on the business side. You’re usually so busy with emails and finances and marketing.” I tilt my head, studying him. “But you’re not, are you? You care about the listeners. You want them to improve their lives.”
He doesn’t say anything, his lips thinning. Everything starts to fall into place. No wonder Josh is so emotionally invested in the show succeeding. And no wonder he’s so adamant about impressing Buzztone. If he were doing Three Single Guys for money, the boys would have gone solo a long time ago. But he wants the marketing reach a production company can give him. He wants to reach people.
I’m pretty sure Zack just does the podcast for fun. Luke is a teacher at heart, so of course he likes giving advice. But Josh actually cares about helping people.
My heart thuds. I cross the room and cup his cheeks, stroking my thumbs over his cheekbones. His eyes flicker shut.
“What are you working on?” I ask.
“Just going through some emails.”
I glance over his shoulder at his laptop screen. As usual, his inbox is overflowing. I scan the subject lines.
My wife wants to get a divorce. I’m still so in love with her.
I want my parents to come to my wedding, but they don’t believe in gay marriage.
