Chapter Text
An alarm sounds through the room, piercing the morning calm with its repetitive noise.
Techno doesn’t jolt, he isn’t one for sudden reactions to an unexpected factor, instead he languidly sits up. His sheets fall off of the top half of his body and his arms slowly make their way up above his head.
The alarm still beeps as he takes a moment to stretch out before opening his eyes and reaching towards his nightstand to shut off the alarm.
His arm lazily slaps around for his phone before he finally grasps onto it and brings it towards his face. The light from the screen flashes in his eyes, causing him to look away as his eyes adjust to the sudden influx of light.
He always hated mornings.
There was just something about the way the alarm sliced through the silence and the way he never quite got used to the ache of his bones after a night's rest.
Despite this, he somehow winds up waking up each morning and going through this routine every time. And as his eyes adjust and he casts his glance back at the screen to check the time he finds he can’t stop the groan that comes from his mouth.
8:07 flashes back at him, annoyingly bright on his phone and way too early in his opinion for a day that he doesn’t even have to work.
He knows why he has to be up though, it’s because he has finally decided to get a new phone. His is…old. Well that is one way to put it.
Now, he dearly loves his phone and absolutely nothing is wrong with it and he has no reason to get a new phone.
Except for the fact that sometimes it crashes and doesn’t turn on for a few hours.
No biggie though in Techno’s humble opinion.
According to Wilbur it is a “biggie.”
And after Wilbur wouldn’t shut up about him just buying a new one Techno finally conceded because nothing is worth listening to Wilbur dramatically monologue about how Techno’s phone is “an abomination to society.”
Techno thinks he is being overly dramatic, but he guesses that getting a new phone wouldn’t hurt anyone, except for his wallet.
In all honesty he probably wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for that deal that the phone company is having where he can get the newer phones for cheaper with his plan.
So that is how he has ended up with his phone blaring (luckily the alarm app still works!) and Floof looking at him angrily at 8 in the morning.
He looks at Floof and is honestly shocked that the little white ball of sass has not barked at him to alert him of his distaste for this early morning.
The dog just tilts his head before lying back down, settling for just going back to sleep.
God does Techno wish he was a dog right now.
If he was then he wouldn’t have to do things like being an adult.
Sadly he has to be an adult though and adults get out of bed and get ready so they can go to the phone store or whatever.
Before he does that he opens up his to-do list app.
To-Do
- Get a new phone
- Go to Phil’s for dinner
Okay, so he doesn’t have anything to do today.
He shuts off his phone, exiting out of the app, and rolls out of bed and plants his feet on the carpeted floor beneath him.
He stands and relishes in the sound of his knees popping as he takes a few steps into the bathroom so he can actually start the day.
Now that Techno has time to think about it, he thinks that he doesn’t necessarily hate mornings. He likes the calming nature of them; he just doesn’t like the process of actually waking up.
That’s it. Techno hates waking up.
He finds he doesn’t have a choice in that matter though and simply brushes his teeth and brushes through his hair and puts on presentable clothes for an outing.
It takes him a while to actually get out the door, running through his morning routine lazily. He was in no particular rush. It was a Sunday after all and most people did nothing on Sunday.
By most people he means himself.
But that is besides the point.
It is 9:38 am when Techno exits his apartment, softly clicking the door shut behind him and leaving behind a disgruntled Floof.
It’s a little chilly outside as he walks through the lot to his car. The wind blows through his hair and gently raises goosebumps onto his arms.
It is only November and for this time of the year it’s warmer than normal and Techno won’t complain.
He absolutely despised trying to drive with idiot drivers who don’t know that when there is ice on the roads you should go slower.
But alas, people are dumb.
Luckily, there is no ice on the roads and it is in fact sunny because people also don’t know how to drive in rain either.
He really wonders if people actually have licenses or if they are just driving around illegally sometimes.
Regardless of the bad drivers on the road, Techno is not one and he knows that as he reaches over to turn on the radio.
He only has three stations and one of them is a sports station and the other is Christian gospel music so Techno basically always listens to the classical music that the final station plays.
And people may think he is weird but he does like classical music. He finds the melodies soothing and the way the instruments all come together exciting.
Okay, maybe he just played violin in high school.
That is besides the point though. The point is that he likes classical music. Sue him.
And if Beethoven is playing in the car and Techno hums along then nobody will say a word.
Not a word.
Anywho, the drive to the store is fairly peaceful. The birds fly gently across the sky as the sun rises higher and higher.
There are some cars on the road, not many, but enough that Techno doesn’t feel like he is driving through a ghost town.
It is nice and Techno won’t take that for granted. Niceties don’t come often in a world like this and Techno is more than well aware.
He’s gotten through the times when the world decides to cast a shadow over his life and he’s been able to witness the moments when the world shines down on him with a once in a lifetime opportunity.
He got through the horror that was middle school and the death of his mom and everything else and because of that he is where he is and he owns a bookstore like he always dreamed of and he has the means to do things like get a new phone.
So he won’t take the calm of a morning drive for granted. That is the last thing he would do.
And eventually Techno makes it to the store, the sun has risen farther into the sky, a few clouds crowding around it, and the birds have settled onto the wires and Techno feels at peace as he steps out of his car.
Then he remembers that he has to interact with someone now.
He is probably just about the worst person at social interaction in the history of the world.
Okay, maybe not in the history of the world, that sounds a little too much like something Wilbur would say.
What Techno means is that he is not good at talking to people and he is about to talk to a person.
He doesn’t pray to a god because he doesn’t have faith like that, he wishes he did sometimes, but he doesn’t and what more can he do? Instead he simply steals himself and wishes himself luck.
Look he might be above a god but he is not above a wish or two.
The doors to the store are glass and as Techno glances through the windows he can safely establish that he will be the only one in the store.
He does not know if that makes it all better or worse if he is being honest.
Well, there is no time like the present. Techno walks up to the door, hiding his nerves.
(He is 22 now and he should not be afraid to speak to a phone guy.)
The doors push open easily under his gentle touch, he is careful not to smudge the windows and he finds he enjoys the soft music that plays like an ambience throughout the store.
It’s quite nice here, at least that is what Techno decides rather quickly. One wall has accessories like cases and things that aren’t really phones, but is technology nevertheless.
The other wall has displays and so do the tables in the middle of the store. Some have Samsung, other Apple, some Google. It’s a nice mixing pot of random phones for consumers to pick.
There is a man standing behind a desk towards the back wall. He is typing at a computer and glances up briefly at the sound of Techno entering.
He offers a smile, though Techno can’t tell if it is genuine or one of those plastered smiles all customer service people have memorized.
Techno simply waves back rather awkwardly before meandering over to one wall to pretend to be interested in the phone cases that don’t even work for his phone.
“Could I help you with anything today,” the voice jolts Techno away from his fake browsing, forcing him to look at the man.
“Oh,” Techno pauses as he collects his thoughts. “I saw a deal online about upgrading my phone.”
The man smiles and nods, “Oh yes! I can help you out with that right over here.”
He has black hair and is wearing a red polo and khakis and he leads Techno back over to the desk he was at earlier.
There is a name tag that glistens in the light as he pulls up the system. Techno squints to read it, wanting to refer to the man as more than…well “the man.”
“Tap L.” is typed neatly onto the silver plaque in black to ensure it stands out. Techno thinks it’s quite an odd name, but then again he really cannot be one to judge.
So when Tap L looks back up at him Techno attempts a smile.
“What’s your name?”
Techno falters, why was he not prepared to state his name???
“Uh— Techno. Techno Watson.”
Tap L just nods before typing in the name and pulling up his records and the deals he can claim.
“Okay so it looks like,” he moved his mouse over as he spoke, clicking on the deal.
“Yeah it looks like you can get a newer IPhone for 30 bucks a month for 36 months.”
Techno nods.
Then he realizes he should probably say something, “Oh— yeah that’s the deal I saw.”
“Okay great,” Tap L just looks down and starts typing in stuff that Techno is too lazy to follow.
“Do you have a color preference?”
Techno shakes his head no, “Whatever color you have today is the one I’ll take.”
Somehow the only color left was pink.
Now Techno has a pink phone.
Wilbur is gonna make fun of him for this one.
He takes it though and Tap L seems to just want to get Techno out the door, which is very fair.
“Okay so now all we have to do is transfer your data and trade the phones and you should be set to go.”
He must be able to see the confusion coursing through Techno’s veins because he speaks again before Techno can even think to open his mouth.
“Do you have your old phone with you?”
Techno nods and pulls out the beat up phone.
Tap L tries to suppress his shock and doesn’t do a very great job of it, but hey it’s the effort that counts.
“Oh.”
Techno just blinks and Tap L takes the hand from his phone before turning it back to Techno so he can input his password.
He begrudgingly types it in, not loving the idea that this man has access to his until he remembers that he really has nothing of importance there to begin with.
Tap L begins to do the transfer of his data and then turns back to do final touches of the transaction.
“Oh sh—“
He quickly recovers and then addresses Techno, “It looks like you’re gonna have to change your phone number if you want this phone…”
Techno grunts, “Uh— that’s fine.”
He doesn’t really know what else he would say, his phone is literally transferring the data right now and they already did all the work.
It isn’t like he is attached to his phone number or anything stupid like that.
Tap L lets out a soft sigh of relief before turning back to his computer to type in some stuff and presumably pull up the list of available numbers.
“Okay I can get you a number where the only difference is the last four numbers if that sounds good to you.”
Techno just lets out an affirmative grunt and watches as Tap L finishes up the rest of the small details.
And eventually after what feels like forever, Techno is finally walking out of that store with a new phone in his hand.
He doesn’t have a case on it, maybe that is dumb, but Techno is too lazy to get one of those right now.
By the time he leaves it is closer to 11 and all Techno wants is to go to that one diner he likes and eat.
So that is exactly what he does.
Puffy’s diner has been a staple in his life for years.
He first visited it when he was a freshman in highschool and his Dad wanted a new place to try for dinner.
Techno has been hooked since then.
Their burgers and milkshakes are just so good. You can't blame an adult man for liking a good milkshake. Even at 11 am a milkshake is a good idea.
Puffy’s is empty when he arrives and he relishes in the emptiness of it all. He finds peace in the quiet bustling of the kitchen and solace in the soft sounds from the TV that reminate through the still fall air.
Puffy walks out, she has a light blue apron on and paired with a flowy white shirt and some blue jeans. She has a notepad in one hand and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail.
She looks homely in a way.
“Techno!”
Techno walks over to the bar stools, “Hey Puffy.”
Puffy smiles at him as she moves to lean against the counter in front of him.
“What have you been up to?”
“The store has been kind of busy lately and then I had to get a new phone today.”
Puffy seems to perk up at that, “You finally got rid of that old thing?”
Techno simply rolls his eyes, “Yes I did.”
And Puffy laughs and Techno finds himself smiling as her delicate chuckles ring through the diner.
“Okay,” Puffy stands up, shifting the notepad in her hand and grabbing a pen from seemingly nowhere.
“Want your usual?”
Techno just nods and that is that as Puffy scribbles something down and heads back into the kitchen with a playful smile and a bounce in her step.
And then Techno is alone and he figures there is no time like the present to try and figure out his phone.
Difference number one, this one has Face ID and Techno feels lost without his home button on the bottom.
Luckily though, once he finds out how to exit an app and how to get to that one screen where you can scroll through your open apps, he navigates his way to contacts.
He lets relief flood his system as he sees that he doesn’t have to put in his whole 5 contacts again.
Techno fiddles around with the phone some more, trying (and failing) to learn all the new features himself.
After like two minutes he decides he is better off just looking up a YouTube video later.
Instead of dealing with that, he texts his friends…okay he texts Phil and Wilbur.
Techno: Hey. It’s Techno. I got a new number.
Bird Man: Okay mate! See you at dinner tonight!
Techno sighs, he almost forgot about that dinner.
Techno: See you then.
He then goes through the process of doing that with Wilbur except Wilbur is way more dramatic about it then Phil was.
Techno: Hey. It’s Techno. I got a new number.
Look he never said he was creative.
Sand Man: why did you get a new number??? also stop typing with proper grammar it’s gross
Techno rolls his eyes before typing back his response.
Techno: I got a new phone.
Techno: Also no. I run a bookstore. It would be unbefitting for me to not use proper grammar.
Sand Man: your a loser
Sand Man: you’re*
Sand Man: anyways
Sand Man: YOU GOT A NEW OHONE????
Sand Man: PHONE
Techno snorts at Wilbur’s antics. Simply deciding to put his phone down than indulge in his questions.
Puffy comes out soon after anyways and Techno is not going to let his food go cold for Wilbur.
“Here you go,” Puffy says with that customer service smile that anyone who has worked with people has mastered.
Techno gives her a smile and a curt nod, “Thanks Puff.”
“Anytime Techno.”
She then goes back to the kitchen, probably to talk with the chefs. That is something he always did admire about Puffy, she truly cared about all of the people she hired.
He looks back at his plate, staring at the burger and the fries and the vanilla milkshake.
The burger is well, it's a burger and it is unassuming and yummy and yeah.
Techno eats it. He didn’t come here just to look at it.
The milkshake is the real winner of the meal though. He doesn’t know what Puffy puts in these milkshakes, but Techno is almost convinced it is drugs.
It isn’t drugs though. It might be better than drugs.
Okay. Techno needs to stop thinking about drugs.
He sips his milkshake and eats his burger and a few of his fries and chats with Puffy.
It is nice.
And when it becomes closer to 1 than 12 Techno finally takes his leave. His cup is empty and his stomach full and a smile on his face.
The sun is in the middle of the sky by now, slowly traveling with the pace of the day.
Techno travels with it as he makes his way to the car, he is in no rush. He has nothing to do until 5 when he has to be at Phil’s for their little Sunday get together.
The tradition started sometime in the summer after highschool. Techno doesn’t really remember when and sometimes the best things just happen like that.
All he does know is that for as long as he can remember Techno and Wilbur drive over to Phil’s place on Sundays and they eat and catch up. That’s all there is to it.
They close off the week with a meal and a get together and in the process leave with memories of a friendship that withstood time.
Techno has made the best memories at those dinners.
From the food fights, to Wilbur’s daily dramatic rants, to Phil tripping over his chair, to Techno laughing so hard he fell out of his chair, to Phil accidentally letting a bird into the house, to Wilbur chucking his plate out the door.
Countless of little things that all come together to create something bigger than itself.
Some nights don’t end up engraved in his memory forever, some nights aren’t meant to be remembered for longer than the night itself.
Tonight was one of those nights.
At least to Techno that is what it seemed.
He drove down there, leaving Floof again after their rigorous adventure of watching TV on the couch.
A very arduous task, he knows.
Regardless of what he was doing before, now he is in the car, listening to classical music, and driving towards Phil’s.
The drive is one that is easy for Techno. It comes to him the way riding a bike comes to a person. He doesn’t have to think when he drives to Phil’s house and that is what makes it his favorite kind of drive.
Drives where the music can play and Techno can listen and his body just knows which lane to be in and where to turn. They are wonderful in a way that Techno knows words could never explain.
The moral of this story is that Techno could not tell you what he passed or how he ended up at Phil’s house. All he knows is that he is pulling into the driveway, the radio station is now playing an ad and the clock in his car reads 4:57pm.
That’s all he needs to know as well as he steps out of the car and embraces the icy wind that wraps its arms around him.
His feet rock on the concrete and his hair blows in the wind and his hand raises to knock on the forest green door that marks the beginning of his happiest memories.
The knocks are precise and crisp as he raps his knuckles against the door.
If he listens close enough he can hear Phil slam something and then run into a wall.
He muffles his shirt as the man opens the door, his hair askew and his chest rising rapidly.
“Evening,” Techno doesn’t bother waiting for Phil to respond. He slides through the front entrance, kicking off his shoes in the process.
Phil shuts the door behind him, reaching down to smooth out the apron Techno had bought for him a few Christmases ago.
It is striped white and green and reads “Grill Master.”
Techno thinks it’s funny because Phil almost caught his house on fire the last time he tried to actually grill something. Phil thinks it’s the best apron ever.
It really is a win-win situation.
“Hello Tech, make yourself at home.”
Techno smiles, he was going to do that anyways.
He walks into the living room, scanning the weathered leather couch to find that Wilbur is not here.
This isn’t a surprise, just an observation.
He sits on the couch, the third cushion from the left, it’s where he has always sat and Techno is nothing if not a man of routine.
And because he is a man of routine he knows that Wilbur is about to burst through the door, hair tangled into a mess and a frazzled expression dancing across his face.
He looks at his watch.
Any moment now.
He hears a noise.
He glances at the door.
Wilbur comes crashing through the door, his shoes flying off his feet and a smile thrown onto his face as he slips on the wood flooring.
Techno always admired Wilbur’s ability to be the biggest idiot alive.
“Hey Wil.”
Wilbur snaps his head up, eyes going wide as he catches sight of Techno.
“OMG,” Wilbur comes running at Techno.
“You did not just say OMG out loud.”
“LOL.”
Techno sighs and then Wilbur jumps onto the couch next to him and looks at him expectantly.
Pulling out his phone, Techno looks at Wilbur and hands it to him.
“Why is it pink?”
Techno just shrugs.
“Okay cool. Open it up for me.”
And Techno does that, because he doesn’t feel like fighting Wilbur over arbitrary matters.
Wilbur excitedly taps through the phone as though he is a child who just received their first phone for their birthday.
Techno finds himself amused at the pure excitement Wilbur has over this.
“Dude, you got the newest phone.”
Techno nods, “Yeah.”
“Even I don’t have that one.”
“Okay.”
Wilbur just goes back to clicking through the phone before getting bored of it and handing it back to Techno.
By now Phil is coming into the living room, remnants of the meal on his apron and a spoon in his hand.
“Can you guys set the table?”
Techno nods and stands up and then looks over at Wilbur and drags him off of the couch.
“No need to be so aggressive.”
“There is always a need.”
And with that they both end up in the kitchen setting up the table.
Wilbur gets the Paw Patrol place mat and Techno gets the Peppa Pig one and Phil gets the Sesame Street one.
They all bought them as a joke in highschool and now they are a staple to these meals.
Techno would refuse to eat anything on Sunday if it wasn’t on top of his coveted Peppa Pig place mat.
Phil comes out like a minute later with some kind of fettuccine pasta with chicken and mashed potatoes.
“Dinner!”
“We can see that Phil.”
Wilbur laughs at Techno’s dry humor and Techno just smiles as Phil places the dish down in the middle of the table.
They all serve themselves, not wasting time for semantics before they start conversing about their weeks and just being themselves.
“So how was your week, Wilbur?”
Phil always starts the conversation and Wilbur always goes first.
It’s just how it is.
“It was good. I worked on some music.”
Phil nods. Techno nods too.
They all just nod.
“And you Techno?”
“Uh, well the bookstore has been good recently and I obviously got a new phone earlier. But yeah the week has been chill.”
Phil nods.
Wilbur nods.
They all nod.
“How’s your week been Phil,” Wilbur wiggles his eyebrows like an idiot and Phil slaps him lightly.
“It’s been good.”
“Go on any dates .”
Phil sighs and Techno looks at Phil.
“Dates?”
“Yeah, I saw Kristen again.”
Wilbur pumps his fist in the air and Techno smiles at Phil’s sheepish confession as if they haven’t known each other since middle school.
After Wilbur finishes hollering and celebrating Phil’s success in getting a date they all kind of settle down and just talk about the mundane details of life.
Wilbur talks more about how his attempt to pursue music is going, telling them about possible producers and studios interested in him.
And Phil talks a bit more about Kristen and Techno just knows she is the one for him by the way his face lights up when he describes her.
And Techno doesn’t really speak much, he just watches as his closest friends enjoy themselves and he eats and adds a few side comments and just smiles.
Then his phone rings.
When he picks it up the time reads exactly 6:00 and the phone number isn’t one he recognizes.
“Who’s calling you,” Wilbur is peeking over his shoulder trying to read the screen.
“I don’t know, probably some spam caller.”
Techno shuts off his phone, silencing the ringing and allowing himself to return to the ebb and flow of conversation.
At one point Wilbur starts yelling about how he refuses to believe the rhinos aren’t just unicorns in disguise and Techno thinks that he will never be able to hate Wilbur’s storytelling abilities.
He just has a way with words, like he can perfectly mold them to fit his mind and to fit others as well. The words he speaks and the conviction with which he speaks them just cultivates a story or song or conversation like no other.
The way he speaks captivated audiences of people and Techno wishes that he could have the abilities that Wilbur has with sharing his words and thoughts.
“They have the horns!”
Okay, maybe sometimes he doesn’t have that grace, but Wilbur is always an interesting person to have a conversation with.
Techno glances at the clock.
“I have to head out,” he cuts Wilbur off with his abrupt statement and Wilbur has the gall to look mildly offended.
Phil glances at the clock too, registering how much time has passed and nodding.
“Sounds good mate, have a great night.”
Techno smiles, “Thanks Phil.”
He stands and moves to take his plate into the kitchen, setting it into the sink gentily and taking his leave.
Techno slides his shoes onto his feet and he opens the door and he gets into his car, and then he makes the drive back home.
The drive back is just as mind-numbing as the way there. Metamorphosen by Richard Strauss is playing as the radio switches on and Techno sways his head along softly with the basically 30 minute long composition.
The sun has set and the moon has begun to rise and Techno thinks that somewhere int he world magnificent stars twinkle across the black expanse of sky above him.
The car rumbles beneath him and the moon shines above him and eventually the white lines and cars that mark the parking lot of his apartment rests in front of him.
As his car pulls to a stop in the parking spot, Techno takes a moment to just breathe and listen to the ending of Metamorphosen and as the symphony of instrumental emotion comes to a close he shuts off his car and steps out into the night.
His feet carry him up the stairs and his hand unlocks the door to his apartment and Floof is at the door barking at him.
“Hey Floof.”
Floof doesn’t respond, but he does run into the kitchen and stare at his food bowl until Techno gets his hint.
With that Techno makes Floof some dinner and he resigns himself to getting ready for bed, knowing that he has to open up the bookstore tomorrow.
He kicks off his clothes, getting into the same pair of pajama pants that he kicked off this morning. They are cozy and he is too lazy to do laundry right now, so reused pajama pants is what he gets.
His teeth get brushed and he does his dishes and by the time he is done tidying up his home and taking Floof out, yes in his pajama pants, it is close to 9:30 and Techno figures that is the ideal time to go lie in bed and watch YouTube videos.
Floof is in his bed already when Techno flops overdramatically onto it. Floof lets out a huff of disagreement at the bed shifting and Techno ignores that, electing to just pull up YouTube on his phone and let Floof stew in his anger.
He clicks on some random video about Minecraft and lets the video fill the silence of his apartment.
Eventually his eyes start to droop and he knows he should go to bed.
He closes out of YouTube, and opens up his to-do list.
To-do
- Go to work
Techno feels like one thing is kind of pitiful so he adds another.
To-do
- Go to work
- Survive.
Yeah, that’s better.
He exits the app, makes sure his alarm is set and shuts off his phone.
The room is pitch black and the only noise that fills it is the sound of the sheets ruffling and Floof’s breaths.
He lets peace wash over him and allows the tiredness in his eyes to win the battle and take him to a different place for the night.
The last thing he remembers is thinking about ordering new books for the store and after that there is nothing but forgotten dreams and a quiet night.