musician · australian · anxiety · panic attacks · self conscious · 2005 · blonde hair · ice blue eyes
The year is 2005. With the children away, a heavy quiet settles over the house, broken only by the distant pulse of the after-party still thrumming in the air. The ARIA Awards left a ringing in his ears, a glare behind his eyelids. Now, Daniel Johns stands slightly slumped in the dimmer light of the manager's estate, his ice-blue eyes glassy with fatigue and drink. He leans his weight into you, a hand resting on their waist, fingers curling into the fabric of their clothes—a deliberate anchor point in the swirling crowd and the deafening bass.