Jayce had issues that he didn’t seem comfortable sharing with the rest of the band. These people were supposed to be his closest friends and he hadn’t confided in them. Did he have anyone he could lean on? Anyone he could look to for support?
Maybe I could have been that person if things hadn’t turned out the way they had with Neil.
***
WE REACHEDTHE next city ahead of time, and the guys were talking about taking a break before rehearsal. I waited until they filed out of the bus.
“Jayce, do you have a minute?”
It had been a bit awkward having to share the tour bus with Jayce after everything that had happened, but I’d managed to keep my spirits up by interacting with the rest of the band, Kell in particular. He was funny and energetic and always up to answer fan questions. I spent most of my time on the tour bus doing Q&A’s and getting the guys to take selfies for me to post. As long as I was doing my job, Jayce and I got along well.
It was only when we were alone that things were tense. I didn’t want that. I had to fix things between us.
Jayce stopped as soon as I called out to him, slowly turning around.
“Yeah?”
I hesitated and decided to power through it.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
He frowned at me and turned on his heel. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t mean about us. I’m talking about your… panic attacks.” I said the last two words quietly.
He whipped his head up, looking around quickly, but there was no one there to overhear, just like I’d planned.
“I consider you a friend. I just want to make sure you’re all right. It must be hard doing shows every night.”
Jayce gave me a considering look before his shoulders slumped. He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed at his stubbled jaw. “I’m doing… okay.”
“You want to talk about it?” I sat down on one of the sofas, leaving room for him to join me. He paused, studying my face intently, but eventually he sat down gingerly next to me. We were both quiet for a moment before he spoke.
“They’re getting worse.” His voice was low, and he spoke from deep within his chest.
“How bad?”
“It’s taking longer and longer to snap out of it. Sometimes I’m worried I’ll pass out because I can’t breathe. I get dizzy. My vision goes blank.”
I reached out and placed a hand on his arm, but he averted his eyes.
“Do you think maybe it’s time to talk to someone about this? A doctor?” I didn’t want to say a psychiatrist. I knew of the stigma. I knew some people took badly to that, thinking that you were calling them crazy, even though that was the last thing on my mind. I knew how important it was to take care of your mental health. One of my good friends had been dealing with bipolar disorder since her early teens.
“How? When? I’m always on tour, or working on another album, or doing promo events.”
I wasn’t a professional, but I worried that if Jayce didn’t try to manage his illness, he’d have a real breakdown one day. I thought back to what my best friend had told me worked for her. Bipolar disorder wasn’t the same as anxiety disorder, but panic attacks were sometimes also a symptom.
“There’s this meditation app I know. It’s supposed to help people with anxiety. Gimme your phone.” A few taps later and I’d downloaded it for him. “My friend said it really helped her.”
“Thanks,” he murmured, looking at the screen and avoiding my eyes.
“Try it and let me know how it goes.”
Jayce blew out a frustrated breath. “I just feel like I need to learn to deal with it on my own.”
“You don’t have to do it alone. If you want, I could stay next to you when you’re having your—” I paused. “Your problems.”
“I can’t ask you to babysit me after every concert.”
