Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are two types of people in this world: those made to be observed and their observers. Mumbo is the latter; he never considered himself to be anything else. He is always keenly aware of his surroundings, taking note of the smallest details that others might overlook. Whether it's the anxious student who checks their watch every few seconds, hoping for a faster subway, or the child who counts the people at the station while their mother scrolls through her phone, Mumbo sees it all.

As he waits the subway's arrival, he is surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the morning commute, Mumbo is content to listen to the world around him. He hears the faint melody that each person produces, from the steady ticking of the student's clock to the soft counting of the child and the rhythmic tapping of the man's foot. Mumbo's own presence is quiet and unobtrusive, a mere observer of the intricate dance of life that plays out before him.

Observation is not just a hobby for Mumbo; it's an integral part of his identity. He has never been anything else but an observer, and he wouldn't have it any other way. In a world where everyone is rushing from one place to another, Mumbo takes the time to appreciate the small moments and the beauty that surrounds him.

As the morning wears on, a familiar sound breaks the stillness: the approaching subway train. The throng of commuters stirs, gathering their belongings and shuffling towards the waiting doors. Mumbo is no exception, grabbing his bag filled with chargers, headphones, and other essentials that his mind convinced him he'd need for the day ahead.

As the train pulls to a screeching halt, a new rhythm takes over. People move in a familiar cadence, each following their own internal beat. The girl in the same uniform moves with the same measured steps as she did yesterday and will do tomorrow. The boy with the backpack bustles past, his movements quick and impatient as he grins down at his phone. And Mumbo moves hesitantly, his confidence shaken by a recent upheaval.

Mumbo had been moved to a new studio, and while he knows that it's an opportunity to grow and have new experiences, the prospect fills him with dread. The loss of the familiar routine, the security of normalcy, is almost too much to bear. Despite his best efforts, he can't shake the feeling of terror that grips him at the thought of the unknown.

Despite his "talent", Mumbo's experience in the music business is limited to just a year of professional music production. He did do some recording during his university days, even scoring an internship at a well-known studio, but he doesn't believe he's as good as people say he is. His previous studio was the only real work experience he's had, and he's grown accustomed to its setup, building, and especially the artists he worked with. It's the singers that intimidate him the most, as his job as an audio engineer hinges on understanding them and their sound intimately, manipulating notes to create a sound that perfectly reflects their soul - the most crucial part of any artist's creation.

Unfortunately for Mumbo, he's terrible at talking to people. It's not like in the movies or poetry, where words flow like honey. He's not great with words, which is why he chose to be an audio engineer instead of a singer. He doesn't have to worry about putting emotions into words; instead, he uses his technical skills to produce sounds that are more than just technical. But even so, his success depends heavily on how well he can work with the singer. What if he makes a bad first impression? What if he doesn't get along with the singer? What if the singer hates him? What if- Oh. This is his stop.

He gets off the subway and pulls out his phone to map the address of the new studio. As Mumbo walks, he surrenders himself to the rhythm of the city. The flutter of wings overhead, the hushed prompts from his GPS, the stranger's phone conversation in front of him, and the tinkling bell of a shop door opening all syncopate with his steps. Step, step, “go left”, step, step, “cross the street and take a right”, step “Stephanie, I’m telling you!”, step, step, ring. It would be a pleasant experience if only Mumbo's thumping heart would join in, but it beats to its own anxious tempo, a disjointed counterpoint to the surrounding melody. With each step closer to the studio, his heart pounds faster and faster like the intro to a heavy metal song. But like a well-structured composition, the journey comes to its finale. Mumbo smoothes out his suit, a symbol of professionalism, and enters the studio with the hope of making a positive first impression.

The walls of the studio are adorned with dozens of golden records, microphones, albums, and trophies that showcase the incredible talent that has been nurtured within these walls. The sleek red and black couches under them, adorned with fake plants and cozy blankets, complete the professional yet trendy vibe. As Mumbo takes it all in, a man in a wheelchair rolls up to the entrance.

“Hey-o! Can I help you with something?”

The man is dressed impeccably, sporting a large top hat that matches his suit jacket. Mumbo quickly identifies him as an employee from the staff badge around his neck, emblazoned with the words "Scar, Assistant Artist Manager" beside a photo of him flashing finger guns at the camera.

“I-uh, I’m the new audio engineer,” Mumbo stammers out, mentally berating himself for his lack of social skills.

Scar strokes his chin thoughtfully suddenly perking up. Mumbo swears he can see a lightbulb go off as he exclaims, "Ah, Mumbo! I was told to expect you. And you're... actually very on time! My bad!" He waves Mumbo over, gesturing for him to follow as he begins to roll away. "Sorry, I'm not used to people being timely. Let me give you a quick tour of the studio."

Before Mumbo can even respond, Scar begins moving, never asking for a name confirmation, and moving a lot faster than expected. Mumbo takes note before quickening his pace to catch up.

As they walk through the various rooms, Mumbo can't help but feel a sense of wonder at the array of instruments and equipment on display. Each room seems to have its own distinct atmosphere, with the corresponding instruments and technology lending a unique character to the space. In one room, several drum sets and guitars are propped against the walls, while in another, a grand piano takes center stage surrounded by an array of keyboards and stage pianos. Mumbo is particularly drawn to this room, and Scar seems to notice.

"I see you have an ear for the finer things," Scar quips, "all employees have 24/7 access to anything in the studio, as long as it's not scheduled to be used, of course."

As they make their way through the labyrinthine hallways, Mumbo can't help but feel a growing sense of excitement. Finally, they reach the last room, and Mumbo's heart skips a beat as he steps inside.

“And here is where you’ll be working your magic!” Scar states enthusiastically as he opened the door to Mumbo's new workspace. The audio engineer couldn't help but stare in awe at the enormous room. The walls were adorned with white granite and dark oak wood that matched the floor, while comfortable couches lined the edges and padding covered the walls. Mumbo's desk dominated the space, with five racks covering it, two large computer screens, and various equipment stowed beneath the desk. In addition, the recording booth was outfitted with adjustable speakers that could accommodate both singers and musicians. It was a dream come true.

Scar raised an eyebrow as he watched Mumbo run his hands along the desk. "I'm guessing you like it?" he said with a knowing smirk.

Mumbo could only scoff in response. "I'm speechless!" he exclaimed.

As Mumbo surveyed the room, Scar chuckled before asking, "Well, that is the end of our tour, so do you have any more questions before we move on?"

He broke out of his trance clearing his throat, Mumbo replied, "Um, actually I did have a few. Mostly about who I'll be working with. At my last studio, I worked with about... four different artists, and none of them had a similar style, so what can I expect from these ones?"

Scar tilted his head, surprised. “You mean… They haven’t told you?”

Mumbo’s stomach flipped. “Ah, um, I- I don’t think so?” he stammered, worried that he was expected t know something he didn't. Was he supposed to know? Oh god, he’s going to get fired for not knowing. Mumbo, you spoon!

Scar let out a loud sigh. "Leave it to this studio to leave that stuff out! Forgive us, our higher-ups have not been the most involved as of late," he gritted before continuing. "Anyways, you'll only be working with one singer."

Relieved, Mumbo chirped, "Oh! Right!" He realized he should have known that he'd be working with just one singer at a new studio. "That's no problem," he added.

Scar smirked. “Good luck with this one. He’s a real handful. Seriously, man’s always going through some crisis, and he’s a real pain in the neck.”

Mumbo's heart sank at this revelation. "O- Ok, that's no problem!" he replied unconvincingly, suddenly feeling like he was in over his head.

As Mumbo tried to steady himself, Scar asked, "So, you've heard of Grian, right?"

Chapter Text

“This week, on celebrity news! Prepare to be enchanted by the latest sensation to hit the music industry - none other than the immensely talented Grian! With his captivating sound and irresistible beats, this young artist has taken the music world by storm, causing his songs to go viral on various social media platforms and capturing the hearts of millions of fans worldwide.

But Grian's incredible success was not achieved overnight; his passion for the arts was instilled in him at a tender age by his loving parents, and he has been relentlessly perfecting his craft ever since. Now, following the massive success of his last album, he is poised to embark on something truly special.

'I want to tell a story with my music, and nothing will compare to this next one. So be ready!' Grian assures his eager followers.

As the world waits with bated breath for Grian's next move, it's clear that he has the potential to become the quintessential success story of this generation. What will happen next is up to fate!"

The only thing for certain is that Mumbo is absolutely terrified to be apart of this "fate." As Mumbo switches off his television, leaving the lively show host behind, a wave of unease washes over him. He's never been a fan for celerity drama, yet, despite his aversion, he has been furiously scouring the internet to learn everything about his newly appointed artist. The internet is a terrifying place, but it gets the job done when it comes to understanding a person better, especially someone popular.

Mumbo grabs his phone with one of Grian’s songs still paused from when he listened to it that night, and instead puts on orchestral covers of various video game songs. Scar left him in the studio for the rest of the previous day to get acquainted with the setup. Needless to say, Mumbo got adjusted extremely quickly, as working with equipment tended to come naturally to him. Scar sent him a few tracks to practice with to get used to where everything was, and he even started experimenting with some of the new racks. It helped him calm his out-of-control nerves, but it also helped him completely forget about what Scar had told him. It wasn’t until the quietness of his home forced his thoughts to accompany him that he remembered Scar's words.

“You just get adjusted for the rest of the day." Scar said, his voice calm and even. "Don't worry about anything except for getting comfortable!" But then came the bombshell: "However, Grian is coming in tomorrow to record a song. It's more of a practice for him, but also a great opportunity for you!" Scar cheered, oblivious to Mumbo's mounting panic. "Don’t get nervous. We all know it will be your first time officially recording a song here, so we don’t expect perfection."

To Mumbo, those last few words were meaningless. He knew that he had to be more than perfect, and that was why he had arrived at the studio two hours earlier than scheduled. He had to be 110% prepared to take on any request, to anticipate any possible problem. He had his badge and keycard, and through a frustrating trial-and-error process managed to open the front door with it, and now he was here, ten minutes before the actual recording time, checking the booth for the sixth time to make sure nothing was out of place. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to make sure that everything went smoothly, to ensure that he didn't mess up this opportunity.

“Hello Mumbo!” Mumbo jolted at the sound of Scar's voice and accidentally banged his head on the desk.

“SC- ow- Scar!” He greeted Scar with an embarrassed wave, rubbing the sore spot on his head. “Are we almost ready?” he asked anxiously.

"Yup, Grian should be here any minute now," Scar replied, glancing down at his buzzing phone before holding it up to his ear. He leaned in closer to Mumbo and whispered conspiratorially, "A little tip for the future, always tell Grian things start about 20 minutes earlier than they actually do. He may be able to do a lot of things, but being on time is not one of them."He chuckled before taking a deep breath and turned his attention to whomever was on the other line.

"Yello! ... Uh huh ... Yup! ... Any minute- Yeah, Grian just messaged me a bit ago. ... Yup. Newbie is all good!" Scar winked at Mumbo, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Wait, you're not... Of course. Of course. Bye." He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath and returning to his upbeat, radiant demeanor. Just as Mumbo was about to ask if Scar was okay, the door burst open, and in walked Grian.

“SCAR! I’m here! I’m so sorry, I swear I was running on time too, but then Maui wanted some attention and these pesky birds, they- Oh, hello.” Grian's hurried entrance caused Mumbo's heart to race. He locked eyes with the famous musician, who looked him up and down, as if sizing him up. Mumbo nervously waved, his hand trembling slightly. Grian's gaze made him feel like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do or say. “Scar who?” Grian quipped, eliciting a chuckle from Scar who was quick to answer

“Allow me to introduce you two!” Scar said, moving towards Mumbo with Grian in tow. “Mumbo, Grian! Grian, Mumbo! He’s your new engineer!” Mumbo stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do until Grian offered his hand. He shook it, both ignoring how Mumbo’s hand engulfed Grian’s. Grian was a lot shorter than the photos and videos made him out to be (leave it to the internet to not be realistic), and his outfit had obviously been well-loved, especially with the stretch and fadedness of the red sweater. Mumbo couldn't help but notice that Grian wasn't as put together as he had expected, but it was endearing in a way. As they exchanged pleasantries, Mumbo noticed that Scar and Grian seemed to be having a silent conversation, with Grian looking quizzically at Scar, when Scar’s features suddenly darkened in return, making Grian's stature fall slightly.

“"Well then, how about we get started?" Grian said, his voice lacking the usual eagerness that Mumbo had seen in other artists. He trudged his way into the booth, Mumbo noting he was already familiar with the set up, "You have the track ready?" Grian asked, slipping on the headphones as he spoke into the microphone.

“Yeah, all set. Can you hear me okay?” Mumbo asked into his own mic, which was much smaller than the one inside the booth. Grian nodded, his thumb barely moving up. His laconic response made Mumbo feel uneasy, but he tried to remain professional.

“Loud and clear,” Grian said flatly, not even looking in Mumbo’s direction.

Mumbo cleared his throat, trying to shake off the feeling of intimidation. “O-Okay,” he stuttered, slowly getting more comfortable on his side of the desk. “We’ll start with a full run of the song, work on some more specific parts, do background vocals, and then do a few more runs. How does that sound?”

Grian gave another listless thumbs up as he readjusted his position. Mumbo couldn't help but notice the way Grian's eyes drifted around the room, seeming more interested in the posters on the wall than the task at hand.

“Alright, I’ll count you off. In three, two…”

[Good Day – Twenty One Pilots]

The opening of the song was an intriguing blend of futuristic and vintage sounds, reminiscent of old-school loading sound effects. It was a bold choice for an album opener, Mumbo couldn't deny that it set an interesting tone for the rest of the track. As the drums kicked in, Mumbo focused on achieving the perfect balance of volume and instrumentation. Although the upbeat tempo was not exactly to his liking, he found that the addition of some piano helped to smooth out the edges. Mumbo made sure to highlight its sound when he was mixing the song earlier. And with the gentle addition of instruments, the opening was perfect, and he had his hand on the dial ready.

But when Grian's voice entered the mix, Mumbo was taken aback. It was powerful, commanding, and it completely dominated the track. Mumbo scrambled to adjust the music to fit Grian's voice, tweaking the dials and toggling the knobs until the balance was just right. Despite the nagging feeling that something was off, Mumbo found himself nodding along to the infectious beat. Even Scar couldn't resist swaying to the rhythm. But as Mumbo watched Grian, he couldn't help but notice the lack of interest in his expression. The slumped posture and frown made the lyrics sound forced and tense, robbing them of their intended meaning. It was a pretty sound, but it lacked the emotional depth that made a song truly great.

As the song continued, Mumbo became increasingly aware of Grian's disinterest, and it began to weigh on him. He stopped nodding to the beat, and his enthusiasm for the project waned. It was clear that Grian was not invested in the song, and that lack of commitment was holding it back. Although it had potential and reached the bare minimum of a good song, nothing stopped the nagging feeling in Mumbo’s head that something was wrong. But Mumbo refused to give up. He knew that with some guidance and instruction, Grian could tap into the emotion and energy that would make this song a hit. Perhaps Grian was simply holding back because it was Mumbo's first day on the job, or maybe he was still recovering from his tardiness. Whatever the reason, Mumbo was determined to help Grian unleash his full potential,

As the song came to an end, Grian's eyes remained dull and uninterested, a stark contrast to the passionate lyrics he had just sung. Scar whooped and clapped, but Grian only managed a small smile in response. When he turned his gaze to Mumbo, he waited for further direction.

"Yeah, okay, great job on the first take," Mumbo said, his tone trying to infuse some enthusiasm into the room. "Let's do another run, and this time, really let loose. Don't hold back!"
Unfortunately, the next take was no better.

As they continued to sing and experiment with different verses, both Grian and Mumbo grew increasingly bored. The three of them found themselves in this spot, in a state of stillness as they listened to the rough draft of the song. Scar had migrated to the other side of the room, swaying to the beat with a smile on his face, but the energy in the room was otherwise lacking. Grian sat slumped against one of the couches, his eyes staring off into the distance. Mumbo sat at the desk, pen in hand, making notes about what he would need to adjust later on. Despite his focus on the task at hand, Mumbo couldn't help but notice Grian's avoidance of eye contact and the way he tightly pursed his lips every time he heard himself. Scar's attention shifted from the music to Grian as he grew increasingly concerned about his friend's demeanor. As the song came to a close, a deafening silence enveloped the room, each person unwilling to be the first to break the tension. The only sounds that could be heard were the clicks of Mumbo saving and pausing the song, adding to the uneasy atmosphere.

“Soooo?” Scar's voice broke the silence, his eyes flicking towards Grian.

Grian looked up, his eyes lacking their usual spark, and picked himself up from the couch. “Yeah, it’s fine. You did good. I’m actually impressed,” he said, his words directed towards Mumbo's general direction.

“Oh! Uh, thanks!” Mumbo forced a smile, lost in thought on how to bring up his criticisms to a literal superstar. Luckily, Grian offered him an opening.

“So, do you have any notes or something before I go?” he asked, already grabbing his stuff, still refusing to look anywhere near the booth.

“Actually, yes! Um, are you open to questions or, well, criticism?” Mumbo asked tentatively, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over him. The way Grian froze made him sure he was fired. The way Scar leaned in also didn’t make him feel too comfortable.

““Yeah, go on,” Grian replied cautiously, prompting Mumbo to rip off the Band-Aid. He asked bluntly, his heart pounding in his chest,

“Do you actually like this song?”

Chapter Text

There are two types of people in this world: those made to be observed and their observers. Unfortunately for Grian, he never noticed that there were any types. Call him self-centered or narcissistic (most people already do), but he doesn't take offense; the belief is understandable, given the circumstances. Why bother attempting to refute others' perceptions of oneself? There's no point in trying to convince someone that you're not what they already think you are. So Grian learned to ignore them. Though he was aware of the comments, he no longer recognized the faces that accompanied them, not anymore at least. He was conscious of the eyes that traced his every move, but he no longer noticed the individuals who bore them. Over time, he learned to tune it all out. Just ignore it. Ignore the reputation, the expectations - that was his advice to himself, had he acknowledged this habit. Grian had developed a habit of not noticing things.

However, there's one thing that Grian can't help but notice- his music. Contrary to what people may think, he adores his job. The beauty of a bird's simple melody or the comforting hum of a train- these are the sounds that inspire him. Regardless of the genre, music offers an experience that allows him to forget the world around him. All he needs is a well-curated playlist and a good pair of headphones. Music has become his steadfast companion, his passion, and his life. It's his escape from reality. Grian has never noticed anything else; music is his work, his passion, his life - his escape. He pours his heart and soul into his music, giving everything he has to it. He gives everything for his music. He gave everything.

To hear his own voice singing lyrics that he didn't resonate with was a type of agony that surpassed even the threat of death. He felt as though he had nothing to offer this song, despite its deadline being a month ago. He tried his hardest, of course, but the blank page seemed to mock him relentlessly. Rather than expressing the emotions and words that yearned to be heard, he decided to cater to what was popular amongst his fans, resulting in a hideous concoction of sound that constituted the current song. Objectively, it sounded decent. A "good" song, if one didn't scrutinize it too closely. If his new engineer, Jumbo (was it Jumbo? Grian couldn't recall), was anything like his previous ones, he'd overlook the flaws, and they'd proceed to the next project.

"Do you actually like this song?" Grian finally made eye contact with Jumbo. The man appeared as though he had just seen a ghost as their eyes met.

Jumbo still seemed apprehensive, but managed to catch his breath before responding. "Well, you just appear so...bored when singing it," he fiddled with his suit jacket's cuffs as he spoke. "Obviously, your appearance doesn't directly impact the song itself, but with the lack of emphasis and energy, it becomes challenging to believe the words you're singing. Additionally, it's evident that you didn't put much thought into the composition, let alone the lyrics." He sat up, realizing the gravity of his words, and hastily added, "Unless, of course, you did! In that case, I apologize! It's a fine song, really!"

Grian's frustration boiled over, his outburst instantly capturing the attention of both Scar and Mumbo. The silence that followed was palpable, as Grian fell back onto the couch with a sigh of exhaustion. He was at his wits' end. Where was he supposed to go from here? It just didn't seem fair. Any other engineer would have let this slide, but not this one, not Jumbo, no, he had to be difficult. But as he sat there, wallowing in self-pity, doubts began to creep in. Was he slipping up? Had a month-long break dulled his creative edge? The whole situation was frustrating beyond belief.

In a fit of anger, Grian sprang to his feet and stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and he found himself banging his head against the opposite wall. He could hear muffled voices from the other room, likely Scar trying to reassure Jumbo that everything was okay, but he was too preoccupied to make sense of them. This kind of thing was not normal for him (Unless it was, then that's news to Grian).

After a few moments, Scar's chair creaked as he stood up and made his way towards Grian. "Hey G, what was that all about?" he asked, tentatively placing a hand on Grian's shoulder.

Grian's frustration boiled over as he attempted to merge with the wall, his hands fisted in balls. Scar watched in concern as his friend struggled to compose himself, trying to find the right words to say.

"I suck, Scar! That's what that was about!" Grian blurted out, his words sharp and cutting.

Scar's tentative hand rested on his shoulder, trying to offer comfort as Grian continued to spiral. "I-I mean! I didn't mean it in that way! More like- Um," he stuttered, desperately seeking a subject change.

Grian took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down, lifting his hand to silence Scar. "What made it so obvious?" he asked, his voice now laced with defeat.

Scar hesitated before answering, unsure of how to break the news to his friend. "Are you upset about what Mumbo said? Cause if you are I swear he doesn't mean any harm, but you are technically his boss so if you want him to keep those comments to himself-"

“"I'm upset because what he said was right!" Grian interrupted, turning to face Scar. "Because if this mustache guy, someone who I've known for barely an hour, can see right through me then… then what's the point?! Everyone will know, might as well be airing out my dirty laundry in Trafalgar Square!" Grian huffed, the frustration evident in his every word.

There was a heavy silence between the two friends as Grian took a deep breath, realizing he had lashed out at Scar unfairly. He knew he owed Scar the truth, and his hand still lay protectively on his shoulder, offering support. Grian relaxed his hands, steeling himself to be honest.

"I'm sorry, Scar. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just... I don't know what to do." He takes deep breath before continuing, "It's not just what Jum- Mumbo said," Grian admitted, his voice low and strained. "It's everything. The song, my performance, my creative block... it's like I'm stuck in quicksand and the harder I struggle, the deeper I sink."

Grian's frustration had reached its peak, and he found himself slumped against the wall, defeated. He couldn't shake off the blankness that had taken hold of him, rendering him unable to put even a single word on paper. "I'm stuck, Scar," he lamented, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

Scar didn't hesitate to offer his support. He nudged Grian's knee, coaxing him to look up. "You're not alone, my friend," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "Sometimes all you need is a little help to get the ball rolling."

Scar continued, “I may not know much about song writing, but I think I know someone who does.” Grian's ears perked up at the suggestion.

“Who…?” He asked warily,

Scar smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Someone who has a little more hands on experience with songwriting," he replied enigmatically. "Someone who can see right through you."

-

Grian's entrance into the room was not subtle, as the door flew open and Mumbo nearly jumped out of his skin. Grian, however, wore an amused smile as he observed Mumbo's jumpy demeanor.

“"You’re quite jumpy, aren’t you?" he commented with a hint of playfulness.

Mumbo fidgeted nervously with his tie. “I’ve been referred to as such, yes,” he replied, trying to regain his composure.

Grian wasted no time and got straight to the point. "Look, how do you write a song?"

Mumbo looked at him with a perplexed expression, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, did you, a literal songwriter, ask me how to write a song?” he said, incredulity lacing his words.

Grian maintained eye contact, refusing to back down. “Yeah,” he responded firmly. Mumbo continued to stare at him blankly, clearly waiting for more context.

With a sigh, Grian explained his situation. "Look, this song is rubbish, but I have no idea what to write. So, because you too thought it was rubbish, the least you can do is help me out." He leaned his arms on the desk and then hoisted himself up to sit on a part with no equipment.

Mumbo eyed the desk warily before replying, “I’m going to be honest here, I don’t have much experience or the qualifications to answer this. Writing comes down to the writer.” He paused to study Grian's face. “But when I look at you, I see your soul exploding, but you’re like… containing it, covering the blast. You’re holding back, and I don’t understand why.” He furrowed his brow, trying to articulate his thoughts. “My friend, another songwriter, told me something that stuck with me. She said, ‘If you pour your life into songs, you want them to be heard.’ It's a desire to communicate, and that desire inspires songwriting. She described it as a trust fall, the communication bit I mean.”

Grian looked down, mulling over Mumbo’s words. “But I do pour my life into this,” he murmured softly. Grian looked down, mulling over Mumbo’s words. “But I do pour my life into this,” he murmured softly. Mumbo replied, his voice gentle but firm,

“Then you’re gonna have to fall.”

Chapter Text

Vulnerability, the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally. Such a pretty word for such a terrifying meaning, and a much more horrifying experience. Grian sat slouched in his chair, his face etched with a deep frown, as if trying to solve an impossible puzzle. surrounded by the familiar trappings of a writer's workspace. But instead of tapping away at his keyboard, he found himself staring blankly at the cursor blinking at him from the top of a blank document. His cup of tea had grown lukewarm, forgotten in the midst of his creative block, and his papers lay scattered haphazardly across his desk, crumpled up and discarded like his failed attempts at writing.

He let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of his own vulnerability bearing down on him. The thought of exposing himself, of baring his soul on the page, filled him with a sense of dread and anxiety that made his chest feel tight.

But even as he tried to push the thoughts away, his mind kept circling back to the same question: where to begin? There were so many issues he could write about, so many fears and doubts and insecurities that he could explore. But each time he tried to focus on one, he found himself floundering, lost in a sea of self-doubt and uncertainty.

He picked up a crumpled piece of paper and tossed it half-heartedly at the trash bin, watching as it bounced off the rim and rolled across the floor. It was a small, futile gesture, but it felt like a release of some kind, a way to let out the frustration and anxiety that had been building up inside him.

He lifted his arms and folded them across his chest, resting his head on them with a heavy sigh. The weight of vulnerability seemed to be crushing him, suffocating him from within. His eyelids grew heavy, and he wondered if he should just take a nap and forget about writing altogether. Avoidance methods 101, when in doubt take a nap.

Just as he was about to give in to the temptation of slumber, his phone began vibrating on the desk. He hesitated, but the caller ID read "Scar," and Grian couldn't resist answering the call. A picture of his beloved cat, Jelly, accompanied the name, tugging at his heartstrings. Despite his reluctance to talk, Grian knew he was a sucker for his friends.

Grian answered the phone, trying his best to inject some enthusiasm into his voice. "Hey Scar!"

He could hear the smile in her voice as she greeted him in return. "Hey G! Did I wake you up?"

Grian sighed inwardly, realizing that his lack of enthusiasm was more noticeable than he had thought. "No, just procrastinating," he admitted, glancing down at the blank document on his laptop screen. It was supposed to be a song, but he couldn't seem to find the words or the melody.

Scar chuckled on the other end of the line. "I had a feeling. Well, if you'd like, I could head over to the studio for a bit and we can do a little song sesh together!"

Grian felt a glimmer of hope stir inside him. Maybe collaborating with Scar would help jumpstart his creativity. "Honestly, that'd be nice. Want to meet in an hour or so?"

"Sounds good!" Scar replied, her excitement palpable. "See you then, bud!"

Grian hung up the phone and felt a surge of energy flow through him. He stood up from his desk and stretched his arms feeling more alive than he had in hours. He grabbed his guitar and headed out the door, eager to see what magic he and Scar could create together.

-

Despite his best intentions to arrive on time, Grian found himself running behind schedule by a full twenty minutes. As much as he wanted to blame his tardiness on his cat Maui's demands for a belly rub or his desire for a cup of tea, he knew it was really his fault for not managing his time better. When he finally arrived at the building, he made sure to thank the kind employee who held the door open for him on his way in. After exchanging pleasantries with a few familiar faces, he made his way down the hall towards the designated room, where he could already hear Scar passionately ranting about something.

"See, that's what I said! But apparently you have to have the stupid title," Scar exclaimed, clearly worked up about something.

Just as Grian was about to enter the room, something caught his eye. It was Mumbo, dressed in a sleek all-black suit with the top buttons of his dress shirt undone. The sight of him was unexpected, and it caught Grian off guard for a moment.

"Hey! Sorry, lost track of time," Grian apologized as he entered the room and moved to close the door behind him. As he did so, he couldn't help but feel a little flustered by Mumbo's presence. "Oh, hi," he breathed, hoping he didn't sound too awkward.

Scar spoke up, “Grian! Can you believe that even Mumbo thought I was your producer? It's outrageous!” He waved his arms towards Mumbo, breaking him out of his thought.

Grian smiled and moved to sit, “You practically are Scar.”

“Exactly!” Mumbo chimed in, taken aback by Scar's exclamation, “I haven’t even met your actual producer. Where are they?”

“I have no idea, they're probably off hobnobbing with the higher-ups. They hardly ever speak to me unless they need something done in the studio,” Grian said nonchalantly, unzipping his bag for his laptop.

Mumbo hummed in annoyance before readjusting his bag, “Well, I should get going. I don't want to be a bother to you guys.”

Scar booed playfully and gave him a thumbs down. Grian responded snarkily, “Leaving us to do the work you wanted me to do, huh?”

Mumbo smiled, “Hey, I never said you had to do it, mate.” He shot back playfully before messing with his suit cuffs again.

Scar motioned to a chair, “Don’t leave us doing your dirty work.”

With a roll of his eyes, Mumbo finally gave in and put his stuff on the table before sitting down. The two cheered before he responded.

“You guys are the worst, asking an engineer to write a song.” Scar patted his back and laughed.

“We believe in you, Mumbo, right Grian?” Scar asked through giggles.

“We'll see,” Grian said, shooting another grin at Mumbo. He hoped Mumbo wouldn't take their playful teasing too seriously.

As they settled in for the task at hand, Grian couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within him. The trio began to work out the topic of the song, which Grian quickly turning into deciding on the melody and composition of the opening. Even though Grian's contributions were mostly limited to providing input and preferences, the three of them fell into a natural rhythm of playful bickering and trial and error. As they worked, Grian couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for the creative process he had forgotten he enjoyed so much.

Hours had passed by the time Mumbo's contagious laughter filled the room, in response to a stupid joke Scar had made, interrupting their progress. "This - this is ridiculous!" he managed to choke out between giggles. They all took a moment to catch their breath and regain their composure, avoiding eye contact to avoid another bout of laughter.

Scar chuckled a few times, waiting for Mumbo to settle down before speaking. "Yeah, back on topic," Mumbo said through a cough. "I can definitely work on it later."

"Have you come up with any lyrics yet, Grian?" Scar asked, his gaze fixed on Grian expectantly. Grian coughed awkwardly, feeling the pressure from the group's collective stare. He searched for a way out, turning to Scar for support, but Scar simply raised an eyebrow in response. Grian sighed, realizing he had no choice but to confess. "No, not yet," he admitted.

Scar's tone changed, taking on a more professional air. "Do you have an idea of what you want to write about?" he asked.

Grian thought for a moment before responding. "Honestly, no. I don't really want to talk about anything personal, not yet at least." He absentmindedly flicked a pen across the table and watched it roll to a stop.

Mumbo chimed in with a suggestion, "Why don't you write about why you can't write?"

Grian scoffed, "Yeah, I'll just write about how I can't write about something so straightforward. Sounds wonderful." He added sarcastically, resting his cheek on his fist. "I'll be ripped to shreds by my inability to write something so simple."

Mumbo chuckled, "Well, if it's supposed to be simple, this song would have been written ages ago. But that's not the case, is it?" Grian felt a spark of annoyance at the comment, but Mumbo's words also triggered a thought in him. He looked down at the blank sheet of paper before him, it’s perfect, not a single mark or wrinkle. Grian wanted to change that.

With a pen in hand, Grian began to write down a stream of words, almost as if he was limbering up his creative muscles. This was an exercise he learned from his old teacher, a way to extract lyrics from the world around him rather than forcing them out. At first, it was just simple words like "page," "pencil," and "song," but as he continued, he delved deeper into his psyche. He pulled out words like "bored," "frustrated," "angry," "tired," and unexpectedly, "scared." The last word gave him pause. What did he have to be scared of? He had never thought of himself as someone who was afraid, but the word lingered in his mind.

His teacher would have told him to choose a word that stood out and explain it, to use it as a starting point for a song. Grian chose "scared" and began to ponder what he was truly afraid of. The pressure of not being able to write a song was definitely something that caused him anxiety. The fear of fading out if he didn't release a hit was a constant weight on his shoulders. However, he couldn't just put out a song for the sake of it being popular. He had to be proud of it, to feel like it was his best work. Music was his everything, and he couldn't bear to release a song that he didn't love. But what if his taste in music didn't align with the masses? What if he poured his heart into a song and it was rejected by the world? Was he willing to risk everything he had worked for just to satisfy his own creative desires?

The thought weighed heavy on him, but then he heard a voice echo, almost as if it was inside his head:

"Then you have to fall."

...

Grian's hand moved with an energy that surprised even himself. Words flowed effortlessly from his mind onto the paper, as if they had been waiting to be set free for years. He scribbled furiously, desperate to capture every fleeting thought before it slipped away. It was as if a dam in his mind had burst open, and he was racing to catch all the ideas that flooded out. Mumbo glanced at Scar with concern, unsure of how to react to Grian's sudden outpouring. Scar, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, typing something on his phone before turning his attention back to Grian.

"I can't trust it," Grian muttered to himself, pausing to consider a line.

Scar tilted his head, intrigued. "Can't trust what?"

"The fall," Grian replied, his voice barely above a whisper. For the first time, he felt like he was seeing himself clearly, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. "It's like... it's like sharing a dream with someone," he said, quickly jotting down the words as they came to him.

Mumbo grinned at Scar, who leaned back in his chair, a sense of contentment washing over him.

Chapter Text

Mumbo's voice crackled through Grian's headphones, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You ready, Grian?" he asked.

Grian adjusted the microphone, making sure it was positioned just right. "I believe so," he responded, his heart beating a little faster with anticipation.

Mumbo's voice came through the headphones again, crisp and clear. "Alright," he said. "I'll start the track in three, two..."

[The Fall – half.alive]

The beginning starts out surprisingly similarly to the last song, there’s a reason the sound has been so popular recently. But as soon as Grian's voice came through, the melody shifted into something entirely different. It was a complete contrast to the previous upbeat track, and Mumbo couldn't help but smile as he heard the first line. The change wasn't in the sound or melody, but in the lyrics and the way they were being sung.

It had been just over a week since Grian had gone into savage writer mode, and Scar had been busy getting the track ready. In that time, Grian had created a song that was not only better than the last but one that he truly liked, and it showed in the way he leaned toward the microphone, shut his eyes on the lyrics he truly meant, and lightly bounced his leg along to the beat.

"I jump off into your arms, but I can't trust the fall," Grian sang, and Mumbo couldn't help but feel the weight of the words. They were heavy, so heavy that it felt like Grian was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. When did this even come about? Mumbo wondered. He wasn't the best at reading people, but he was sure that the fans online would have said something if Grian had been going through something this intense. Maybe Grian was just that good at hiding it.

Mumbo ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus on his job of making sure that Grian's voice matched the beat of the drums. But damn, Grian was good, like really good. "So, this is what he's really like," Mumbo noted aloud, feeling a sense of awe at the depth of emotion in the song. He had to remind himself to stay focused, to amplify his voice and get the idea through, even though he was fully enraptured by Grian's singing.

Scar can't help but chuckle softly at Mumbo’s note, shaking his head. Grian looks so much more at peace in the booth than he has in a while. There's a sense of tranquility in his expression that Scar hasn't seen in a hot minute, despite the intense and emotionally charged song he's currently singing. Even from outside the booth, Scar can feel the raw power and emotion emanating from Grian's voice through the soundproof walls. It's a testament to Grian's talent, both as a singer and as a writer.

Scar knows firsthand just how much work and dedication goes into creating a song, especially when working with someone as meticulous as Grian. (God knows Grian only sang this to him a million times before stopping randomly to change a syllable. A syllable. He truly will never understand writers.) He's witnessed the countless hours Grian spends obsessing over every last detail, tweaking lyrics and melodies until they're just right. Sometimes, Scar thinks Grian is too hard on himself, but there’s only so much he can do.

As Scar listens to the song taking shape in the booth, he can't help but marvel at the sheer talent on display. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “If only he could dance.” Scar chuckles to himself. Alas, the dream of triple threat Grian dies along his ability to actually master a dance routine, and trust Scar. Grian has definitely attempted. But despite Grian's lack of dancing prowess, Scar knows that his friend is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to music. And with every passing moment in the booth, Grian's talent shines brighter and brighter.

But what really sets this session apart is the level of collaboration between Grian and Mumbo. They're like two master chefs in the kitchen, NO, two mad scientists each adding their own crazy ingredients to create a masterpiece. Scar can see the intense focus in Mumbo's eyes as he listens to Grian's vocals, picking up on nuances that even Scar hadn't noticed after 600 listens.

It's clear that this isn't just a simple recording session, but a battle of skills and artistry. But it works, oh god does it work, and Scar can't help but grin like a fool as the song reaches its triumphant conclusion. They're monsters, all of them, Scar thinks with a laugh. Absolute monsters.

-

Grian emerged from the booth with a whoop of excitement, arms stretched high above his head. "Wooooo! Break time!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "So, what's for lunch? On Mumbo, of course!" he added, his tone full of anticipation.

Mumbo half-appalled, half-amused, took off his headphones. "What?" he retorted, pointing at Grian. "You make loads more than me. If anything, it should be on you!"

"Well, I'm the one who wrote the song," Grian fired back, sitting up on Mumbo's desk.

Mumbo turned around in his chair. "Well, I am editing the entire thing, not to mention I helped you write it in the first place!" he challenged, still not taking his eyes off the screen. "And get off the desk!"

"No," Grian replied cheekily, crossing his arms and crisscrossing his legs up on the desk.

Mumbo raised his eyebrows. "You know I could probably just pick you up off it, right?" he said, an amused expression on his face.

An evil smirk spread across Grian's face. "I'd like to see you try," he challenged. Mumbo lifted himself off his seat and toward over the singer an amused expression resting on his face, “What?” Grian questioned, “Can’t you do it?” He sat up straighter trying his best not to break his tough guy stare but failing miserably.

Mumbo rolled his eyes and sighed. "I can't believe this," he muttered as he wrapped his arms around Grian's torso and lifted him off the desk. Grian yelped as his legs uncrossed, leaving him to helplessly dangle above the ground.

"Rude," he remarked, turning his face up toward Mumbo's gaze. But something in the way Mumbo looked back at him, an amused yet fond smile directed towards his, made his heart skip a beat, and his face began to heat up inexplicably.

"Well, if you two are done," Scar announced, rolling past a floating Grian. "Pick where we're getting food, 'cause all I heard is I'm getting free lunch today." Mumbo set Grian down, and the blonde turned his face away from Mumbo as quickly as possible, silently thanking Scar for the distraction as the man gave him this… look.

Mumbo chuckled and moved toward the door to open it for Scar. "Your choice, Scar. It'll be on Grian," he said, stepping through the door after Scar.

"Yeah, your--HEY! Since when do you make the decisions?!" Grian yelled, running after them. The playful banter between the three friends echoed through the halls, filling the air with laughter and the sound of their footsteps.

-

Scar triumphantly rolled back into the studio, holding a sandwich bag in one hand. "And I said, toaster? I hardly know her!" he exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

Mumbo let out a polite chuckle, while Grian groaned in response. "Mumbo, you don't have to laugh. I give you permission not to laugh," Grian said, shaking his head. "And I hereby ban Scar from ever telling that joke again."

Scar booed at Grian's "tyrannical order," cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice even louder. "You're not the boss of me! And Mumbo loves my jokes, don't you Mumbo?"

Mumbo hesitated for a moment before Grian cut him off. "Don't lie, Mumbo. Scar needs to be humbled. Next joke, and I'll have you fired," Grian joked, taking a bite out of his food.

Scar sighed dramatically, sinking down into his chair with his hand clasped against his chest. "Mumbo, you are my last hope. Make the jokes on my behalf," he said with his ‘final breath.’

Mumbo chuckled as Grian threw a balled-up napkin at Scar's face. "I'm not above replacing my engineer either!" he teased. "I will be this studio's resident fire-er," he said confidently as Scar tried to hit Grian's face back, but missed. The two squabbled as Mumbo tried to silently eat his lunch,

"Fire-er?" Mumbo repeated to himself. "I hardly know her," he quipped, taking another bite of his food. But his joke was cut short when Grian suddenly screeched his name in disbelief.

"MUMBO! I can't believe this. The BETRAYAL," Grian rambled on, his voice dripping with melodrama. Scar laughed triumphantly and extended his arm out for a high five.
"Team Scar!" he cheered when Mumbo met his hand, a broad smile spreading across the engineer's face.
"The superior team," Mumbo added, and Scar's grin grew even wider.

Grian chuckled. "I paid for your food, and this is the thanks I get?" he joked. "That's it! Fired! The lot of you! I expect your desks to be cleared out by the end of the day!"

Mumbo sighed. "Damn, and I just got this job," he said, shaking his head.

Scar put a hand on Mumbo's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll create a rival studio," he said, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Before Scar could finish his thought, an alarm blared from his phone. He looked at it in confusion, which quickly turned to alarm. "Shoot!" he exclaimed, gathering his things. "Sorry, guys, I completely forgot about my meeting. I have to go. I can try to come back, but-"

"Scar, don't worry about it," Grian reassured him. "I'll text you if we do need anything, okay?"

Scar smiled gratefully. "Thanks, G. I appreciate it."

Mumbo got up to open the door. "Now go, we don't want to be blamed for why you're late," he joked as Scar gave them a grateful glance before rolling out of the room. "Thanks, guys. I'll see you later!" he called back.

As soon as the door closed, the silence was almost tangible, and both Grian and Mumbo were painfully aware that it was the first time they'd been left alone together. Although Mumbo was used to these awkward silences, it was unusual for Grian, and he couldn't help but feel nervous as his heart raced ever so slightly faster.

Grian fiddled with his phone, desperately trying to fill the crushing silence, Mumbo, on the other hand, tried to focus on his work, but his mind kept wandering to the person sitting across from him. They sat in the room for a few more minutes before Mumbo finally spoke up, breaking the awkwardness.

"Hey, quick question?" he said tentatively, causing Grian to perk up, grateful for any noise to fill the void.

"What's uh- Well, I don't even know if I should be asking… you know what? Forget I said anything." Mumbo trailed off, unsure if he should continue.

But Grian was curious now, and he leaned forward insistently, "Well now you've interested me. I'm invested in this question now. You have to ask it."

Mumbo let out a nervous laugh, "You can't snitch on me though, promise?"

Grian stuck out his pinky finger and moved closer to Mumbo, "Promise," he said firmly, causing Mumbo to unsuccessfully stifle a laugh.

"What? What's so funny?" Grian asked, slightly embarrassed.

"Nothing! I just haven't pinky promised anything since, like, grade school," Mumbo snickered, his dark brown eyes shining with amusement.

Grian huffed, feeling a bit foolish, "Well, if you're just going to make fun of me, maybe you don't deserve my promise." He began to turn away, but a firm hand grabbed his wrist, making him look back at Mumbo.

Grian's sarcasm died in his throat as Mumbo lifted their hands, interlocking their pinky fingers. Grian found himself staring into Mumbo's deep, dark eyes with such intensity that it took his breath away. He could feel the warmth of Mumbo's hand on his, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to hold it all the time. His heart pounded in his chest as Mumbo only smiled at him, "There, it's sealed. No take backs."

Grian awkwardly chuckled and unlocked their hands, "That was not a consensual pinky promise," he sputtered.

Mumbo broke out into laughter, "You started it!" he accused playfully.

Grian started to laugh along with him, "You rejected me! My heart wasn't in it anymore!"

Mumbo leaned back in his chair, laughing and sputtering confused nonsense as he tried to contain himself. He caught sight of the time before sitting back up, "We really should get back to recording," he suggested, turning back to his desk.

Grian groaned not wanting the moment to end, "But you didn't even ask your question."

"I'll ask it later," Mumbo promised, putting up his pinky finger and giving Grian a mischievous smirk.

Grian rolled his eyes as he closed the booth door on his way back in, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Mumbo scoffed jokingly, "Well pardon you, but I'm great at keeping my promises."

"We'll see," Grian replied in a singsong voice, settling back into his seat and getting back to work.

Chapter Text

Mumbo emerged from the recording studio, his body languidly moving as if weighed down by a heavy blanket of fatigue. Despite his best intentions, he had succumbed to the irresistible pull of the music and worked longer than he intended. It was a common flaw of his to neglect taking breaks once he became engrossed in a project, especially one as captivating as this latest song. Grian's voice echoed in Mumbo's mind, urging him to finish the project with utmost care and precision, so that the final product would truly reflect Grian's exceptional talent. It’s what Grian deserved after all. What started as a casual eight-am Saturday work session, intended to quiet his racing thoughts and lull him to sleep later, had stretched into an arduous five-hour marathon. Mumbo was now in dire need of a caffeine fix.

As he shuffled down the hallway, he acknowledged the few workers he encountered with a drowsy nod of greeting, his memory improving with each passing day as he made an effort to learn their names.

He finally arrived at the lobby, his tired eyes scanning the area, skimming over the blond figure slumped over a phone on one of the couches. He unconsciously rubbed his eyes with his jacket sleeve, making his way further into the room.

"Mumbo?" a familiar voice called out, causing him to turn his head groggily. He stifled a yawn when he saw Grian. The bright red and white varsity jacket that Grian sported should have been a dead giveaway, but Mumbo's exhausted mind had failed to make the connection earlier.

"Grian?" Mumbo perked up at the sight of his friend, his weariness temporarily forgotten.

Grian's expression softened as he observed Mumbo's fatigued state. "You doing okay there, man?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

Mumbo attempted to reply with a feeble "fine" but was interrupted by another yawn.

"Tired?" Grian supplied, noticing the struggle in Mumbo's voice.

Mumbo let out a chuckle and rolled his shoulders back, as if attempting to shake off his fatigue. "Yeah, I'm off to get a coffee, or a tea, haven't decided yet..." he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

Grian nodded approvingly, and Mumbo blinked away his sleepiness. "What are you doing here anyway?" Mumbo asked, wondering why Grian was at the studio when they didn't have a session scheduled. (They didn’t have a session, right?)

Mumbo's brief moment of panic subsided as Grian let out a dry laugh. "I was supposed to have an interview thing today, but I think they sent me the wrong date... or time... or both honestly," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "So I'm stuck here until my driver comes back." he said, hanging his head between his knees in defeat.

Mumbo felt an unexpected thrill of excitement, "So, no plans for a while?" he asked impulsively.

Grian looked up at him, his eyes lighting up with interest. "Nope," he said, popping the final consonant.

Mumbo seized the opportunity and offered, "Want to join me, then?" before he even realized he had suggested it.

Grian's face lit up with a small smile, his eyes shining with excitement. "Really?" he asked eagerly.

Mumbo's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Grian's genuine enthusiasm. "Yeah, it's not too far away," he replied, extending a hand to help Grian up. He didn't notice the slight hesitation in Grian's acceptance, too tired from his long work session, but they both held onto each other's hands for just a moment longer than necessary.

As Mumbo headed towards the door, with Grian following closely behind, he suddenly heard the other man yell out, "WAIT!" Mumbo jumped at the sudden outburst, turning to see Grian rummaging through his bag. After a moment, Grian pulled out a black cap and mask and put them on, adjusting the cap which had a pair of embroidered parrot wings on the front. He gave Mumbo a thumbs up, his eyes squinting in what Mumbo could only assume was a smile. Mumbo's heart squeezed with a mix of emotions, but he tried to ignore it and opened the door to let Grian out first.

Grian muttered a small thank you before walking out, his head low as he tried to leave unnoticed. Mumbo kept him on the inside of the sidewalk, blocking him from view as much as possible. This wasn't his first-time escorting (well, walking with, but it feels like escorting) an artist somewhere. He knew how invasive and demanding paparazzi could be, sometimes escalating to swarming or even physically touching their targets. Not to mention some of the fans who treated artists like interactive museum pieces rather than people, believing they’re entitled to the artist’s full and undivided attention. Most of the incidents Mumbo experienced were with smaller artists, he couldn’t imagine the horror stories that probably happened to someone as popular as Grian. As they walked, Mumbo walked a little taller, acting as a barrier between Grian and any hidden eyes searching for him.

Once they were well out of the studio's way, Mumbo relaxed, letting his sleepy composure take over as he fell into step with Grian.

Grian's snicker reverberated through the still cool air. "I'm guessing this isn't your first rodeo?" he quipped, glancing over at Mumbo with a knowing glint in his eye.

Mumbo let out a long, tired sigh. "No," he said wearily. "I used to go out with some of the artists at my old studio all the time. Let me tell you, some people out there are literally insane."

Grian nodded in agreement. "Oh yeah, I've had my fair share of weirdos," he said with a shudder. "You've got to tell me your horror stories sometime."

Mumbo chuckled tiredly, feeling a sense of camaraderie with Grian. They walked on in companionable silence, the sound of their footsteps the only noise on the deserted street. It was a peaceful respite from the hustle and bustle of the day, and Mumbo felt his exhaustion creeping up on him. He was so tired that if he wasn't in the middle of the sidewalk, he would have probably decided to lay down and sleep right then and there. Alas, he knew that sleeping in the middle of a walkway was illegal and definitely an inconvenience to others. Mumbo would rather push through his exhaustion than be a burden to anyone else.

As they strolled down the street, Grian's gaze drifted towards the towering buildings, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. After a moment of hesitation, he finally spoke up. "Hey, so, your old artists, the uh, the ones you used to work for?"

Mumbo paused, considering the question before responding, "What about them?"

Grian's lips pressed together, his expression thoughtful. "Do you still keep in touch with them? Or…?" he trailed off.

A fond smile tugged at the corner of Mumbo's lips as he reminisced about his old colleagues. "I try to. It's been hard lately because of the different studios and such, but we still talk every now and then," he replied warmly. "They're sweet, they keep telling me they want me back," he added with a chuckle.

Grian made a noncommittal noise, his annoyance with the topic barely concealed. Suddenly, he turned his head to face Mumbo, the most innocent - uninnocent smile spreading across his face. "Well, too bad! You're stuck with me, Mr. Jumbo," he said playfully, hooking his arm through Mumbo's.

Mumbo couldn't help but roll his eyes at Grian's comment. "Didn't you just threaten to fire me a couple of days ago?" he reminded him.

Grian waved a dismissive hand. "Pshhhh. You're probably thinking of some other Grian. That doesn't sound like me," he replied with a smirk.

As they approached their destination, Mumbo pointed out the cafe up ahead. "Oh hey! This is it," he announced.

As soon as Mumbo laid eyes on the full view of the Café, he felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. The building was charming, the brick and wood structure exuded a rustic, homey vibe, with its blue-tiled roof and wooden shutters. Outside, a few sturdy wooden chairs and fold-up benches with cozy cushions and blankets were scattered about, beckoning patrons to sit and soak up the fresh air. The plant baskets, while currently flowerless due to the cold weather, still added a touch of natural beauty with their low and bushy evergreens and bright green leaves, potted in colorful terra cotta. Hanging lanterns cast a warm glow, illuminating the whimsical, painted stars scattered across the top of the large glass windows. The sign above the entrance, emblazoned with a large crescent moon tilting to the side, announced the café's name in bold letters “PearlescentMoon Café”. Mumbo remembered how Pearl had designed the logo and how they had argued over its alignment, redoing it several times because, ‘It was tilted the wrong way.’

Upon entering, he was immediately struck by the space's inviting warmth. The interior of the space reveals itself to be surprisingly spacious, far beyond what the modest exterior suggests. The moon-shaped tables that were scattered around the main lobby were crafted from rich wood and looked like they had been carefully selected to match the cafe's aesthetic. The booths lining the back right side were cozy and intimate, with soft cushions and low lighting. Overhead, stars hung from the ceiling, casting a gentle glow that lent an almost celestial quality to the space.

To the right of the entrance, a coffee bar beckoned with its array of machines, cups, coffee grounds, and tea. A large chalkboard menu proudly displayed the café's offerings in intricate handwriting, with little flourishes and doodles adorning the corners. The quiet chatter of the cafe’s patrons could be heard with quiet lofi music playing from the hidden speakers.

But it was the hardwood stage that drew Mumbo's attention. It dominated the left side of the room, its curved shape giving it a sense of grandeur. The wood was polished to a sheen, reflecting the soft light that emanated from the stars above. Its semi-circular shape commanded attention, with a lone stool, microphone, and amp speaker poised at the front. Near the back of the stage stood a baby grand piano, its mismatched bench waiting expectantly.

Mumbo's face lit up with a warm smile thinking back to the piano’s origins. He remembered the laborious process of hauling the bulky instrument inside with Pearl, its weight straining their muscles as they struggled to maneuver it through the door. He still couldn't believe how he had let Pearl talk him into the idea that the two of them could lift an entire piano, but somehow, they managed it after several failed attempts and a scuffed pulley system. He recalled how ecstatic Pearl was when she had found the beat-up old piano on the side of the street. It was obvious that it had seen better days, but after they had cleaned it up and a lot of begging from Pearl to fix the broken keys and fine-tune it, it didn't look half bad. And as Mumbo looked upon the instrument now, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in their handiwork.

Grian's eyes roamed around the cafe, scanning the decor and the people bustling about. Mumbo couldn't decipher the expression on his friend's face, but he knew that Grian was either awed or intimidated by the atmosphere. As he was about to speak, a loud voice boomed to the right.

"Mumbo!" One of the workers behind the bar cheered, setting down the mug she was drying and sprinting towards Mumbo to embrace him. Caught off guard by her speed, Mumbo let out a small "oof" as she ran into him. Nonetheless, he hugged her back tightly before breaking apart.

"You didn't tell me you were coming over today," she accused him, pointing a finger at him playfully.

"I wasn't expecting to. And hey, isn't this a public café? Why do I need to make a reservation?" he teased.

"Because I need to know when to take my breaks," she punched his arm lightly. "Lucky for you, we aren't too busy right now." She began struggling to take her top knot out of her dark blue apron. After a few attempts, she gave up and turned towards the bar. "Gem! I can't believe you entrapped me in my apron!"

The other worker, Gem, looked up from the register to her coworker. "You told me to make it tighter! You can't blame me for this!" She then turned her attention towards Mumbo. "Hey, Mumbo," she gave a friendly wave, and Mumbo returned it with a grin.

Unable to undo the knot, the worker gave Mumbo a pleading face that was exaggeratedly dramatic. He huffed amusedly before turning her around and effortlessly undoing the knot.
She gawked at him in disbelief as the apron folded into her arms. "Witchcraft," she muttered in amazement.

Mumbo took the opportunity to gloat. "That, or you're just not a knot untying master like myself," he said, looking pleased with himself.

The worker playfully pushed him. "Shut up, Mr. I wear neckties for no reason."

"They look professional, thank you very much!" he fired back.

"For a fifty-year-old college professor maybe!" she retorted.

“If I wasn’t about to fall asleep, you’d be eating your words,” Mumbo finished.

The worker took Mumbo's excuse as a victory and moved to the bar to put away her apron, but her relaxed demeanor suddenly straightened out when she noticed the shorter man quietly watching against the wall. Her eyes widened in surprise before she gave a small bow in apology, “I am so sorry, sir. I didn’t see you come in.” Waving over her coworker Gem, she said, “Gem can you help this customer please? Again, I am so sorry about that, my coworker Gem will assist you.”

“Hey! What would you like?” Gem greeted from the other side of the counter, moving her long braid to rest on her right shoulder.

“Uh-” Grian gave a panicked look to Mumbo who just now registered that Grian was standing there the entire time.

“Ah! Wait, I need to introduce you,” Mumbo rested his hand on Grian’s shoulder. “Grian, this is Pearl. I’ve known her for… too long. Pearl, this is-”

“Grian,” Pearl said in disbelief.

Chapter Text

The girl, Pearl, simply stared when she said his name. Grian couldn't help but feel the weight of her star-struck gaze. Her eyes were so wide they could have swallowed him whole. He extended his hand towards her, trying to keep his composure and not let her see how much he didn’t want to deal with this right now. He thought back to his and Mumbo’s earlier conversation, ironic.

"It's nice to meet you," he said with a polite laugh, hoping to ease the tension that was building up in the air. As much as he appreciated his fans and their undying support, he couldn't help but feel a little suffocated by it all. All he wanted was to hang out with Mumbo without being recognized and swarmed for pictures.

He longed for the days when he could sit down at a table with his friends, order some food, and just shoot the breeze without the constant fear of being interrupted. But as he looked around the bustling café, he knew that was just a pipe dream.

He let out a quiet sigh, wondering if he should just cut his losses and make a run for it. (Damn, he really wanted to spend more time with Mumbo.) But before he could come to a decision, Pearl had turned towards Mumbo with a fierce look in her eyes.

"You brought Grian. And didn't tell me?!" she hissed in a hushed but threatening tone, causing Grian to flinch a little.

Mumbo threw his hands up in surrender. "In my defense, I wasn't expecting him to come over either."

Pearl flicked him on the forehead. "You're lucky I was too lazy to take down the curtains from yesterday," she chided before turning back to Grian with a bright smile. "Sorry about my reaction. We normally are better prepared, BUT SOMEONE decided to surprise us," she said with emphasis, shooting Mumbo a pointed look.

"But we had a group come yesterday if you don't mind sitting in the larger booth," she continued, pointing to a semi-circular booth in the corner. Grian was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. It was adorned with a black curtain at the top and wooden walls separating it from the other booths and the rest of the café.

"Thanks to some of the people I'm friends with, we needed to accommodate some of our more popular customers, so the booths double as privacy screens while we're still open to the public," Pearl explained, her voice infused with a hint of pride, "They're pretty out of the way too, so you don't have to worry about people recognizing your voice. I mean, that's assuming you want to have something here. We could always make something to go."

Caught off guard by Pearl's nonchalant reaction (or rather her lack of reaction), Grian couldn't help but marvel at how she was treating him just like any other customer. It felt refreshing to be treated as normal. With a gentle smile, he replied, "Yeah, actually that would be really nice."

Pearl beamed at his response and gave the green light, confidently assuring him that Mumbo already knew how to secure the curtains. As they made their way towards the booth, Pearl maintained her cool composure, Grian watched as Pearl effortlessly handled a customer who had come over for a refill. She didn't out him or reveal his situation, simply stating that the booth was for guests who needed a more desensitized area. Finally, with a yawn, Mumbo undid the tied curtain, and collapsed into the booth as he closed it.

Grian stepped into the booth, surveying the surroundings apprehensively. He checked for any possible breaches in privacy before removing his mask and hat. Running his fingers through his hair, he couldn't help but feel a bit disheveled, but he was grateful for the privacy.

Grian leaned back, feeling himself sink deeper into the plush cushions of the booth. The warmth and comfort of the private space was soothing, and he couldn't help but feel grateful to Pearl for offering it to him.

Grian settled in more comfortably, letting out a contented sigh as he relaxed. "Pearl seems nice," he commented, appreciating the welcoming atmosphere of the booth.

Mumbo hummed in agreement, his tired voice laced with admiration. "She really is, she’s great" he said, "and she's way smarter than me. She built this entire place from scratch, you know. It used to be a run-down restaurant before she took over, but she tore everything down and rebuilt it into what you see now, aside from the free labor she forced me to do, this was all her.”

Grian listened in awe as Mumbo spoke, "How long has she been running this place?" he asked, curious to know more about Mumbo’s friend,

Mumbo paused for a moment, trying to recall the exact timeline. "I think it's been about three years now," he said finally. "And let me tell you, it's been amazing to see this place grow under her leadership."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the wood outside, and Grian's eyes darted towards the source of the noise. He felt a twinge of anxiety, but Mumbo quickly reassured him. "Don't worry, it's just Pearl," he said. "She always knocks just in case of secrets or whatnot."

Grian gently opened the curtain, revealing Pearl who was wearing her apron again, albeit loosely tied this time. Her smile was warm and welcoming as she approached the booth, a fold-up menu in hand. "Hey, I just need to grab your drink orders real quick," she said, sliding the menu towards Grian. "If you tend to like anything Grian let me know. Mumbo? Want your usual?"

Mumbo hummed in agreement, but Grian was momentarily overwhelmed by the extensive list of drinks and combinations on the menu. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit flustered. "I'm a- a tea person?" he muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed for not knowing what to order.

Pearl's face lit up with excitement. "Oh, great! Me too," she said, moving to the other side of the curtain and flipping the menu over to a list of teas. "Personally, I would recommend some of our black tea, because I can just make that the best. I'm a big fan of Earl Grey, something about it just... just works!"

Grian smiled gratefully, "That honestly sounds great," he said, "if you could put some honey and lemon in it that would be amazing." Pearl nodded and picked up the menu, promising to return shortly with their drinks.

As Grian waited, he pulled out his phone to check his emails and messages, hoping to see if anyone had responded to his missed interview earlier that day. Disappointingly, there was only a dry apology from his producer and another date that he suspected would be just as wrong. He replied with a simple 'thank you' before noticing Mumbo pulling out his laptop.

Grian's protective instincts kicked in as he protested, "There's no way you're going to do work right now." He insisted, with a stern expression on his face.

Mumbo furrowed his eyebrows, looking confused. "What? Of course, I'm going to work. I'm not done with the song yet, and they want me to review another editor's work, so..." he trailed off as Grian reached over to his laptop and slammed it shut with a pesky smirk on his face. "You're the worst," he teased.

Grian shrugged nonchalantly. "You don't mean that," he leaned back in his seat, satisfied. "At least not until you get your drink. Speaking of which, what did you order anyways?"

Mumbo sighed in defeat, moving his computer aside. "A caffé latte with oat milk. I'm a man of habit."

"Ew, a coffee drinker? Disgusting," Grian wrinkled his nose in mock disgust.

Mumbo only laughed. "Screw you, I enjoy tea too, jerk." He crossed his arms on the table, leaning his head down.

Grian couldn't help but smile at his friend's playful banter. "Sure you're not going to fall asleep?" he asked gently, lowering his head to meet Mumbo's gaze.

Mumbo tried to protest, but only a silent hum came out as he fought to keep his eyes open from his comfortable position. So, as any good friend would, Grian began to lightly hum a soothing tune, murmuring the lyrics, and watched as Mumbo slowly lost his battle against sleep. He watched silently as the engineer slowly drifted off to sleep, his face falling further into his arms. Mumbo's breathing was slow and steady, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. Grian couldn't help but smile at the peaceful expression on his friend's face, the lines of stress and fatigue that usually creased his forehead now smoothed out in slumber. Grian couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him as he watched him sleep. But he had to fight against every instinct in his body to not reach out and run his fingers through Mumbo's hair.

Luckily, a soft knock came from outside the booth, and Grian opened the curtain to see Pearl standing there with three cups in her hand. She looked surprised that Grian was the one to open it until she saw the sleeping Mumbo, and her face softened at the sight of the sleeping man.

Pearl carefully placed the cups on the table and asked in a hushed tone, "Mind if I join you?" Grian was surprised but moved over to give her space on the far edge, which she gratefully accepted. She handed Grian his tea, and the aroma of floral and orange zest made his mouth water. The fragrance perfectly complemented the zest of the lemon. Pearl placed her drink, green tea from the looks of it, in front of her and left Mumbo’s mug at the edge of the table. "Thank goodness he fell asleep, he looked like he needed it," she said, motioning towards Mumbo.

Grian smiled fondly at Mumbo and said, "He really did." There was a moment of silence before he realized something. "Wait, weren't you just about to give him coffee?" he whispered.

Pearl giggled and shook her head, "Gosh no, it's decaf," she said, pointing at the mug of coffee. "I do it all the time, and he never notices." She took a sip of her drink and smiled warmly.

Grian followed suit and took a sip of his tea, which turned out to be the best cup of tea he had ever had. "Woah, this is probably the best cup of tea I've had in a while!" he exclaimed.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Aw, you're just saying that," she said, but her smile indicated that she was pleased to receive a compliment. "It means a lot when people appreciate my work."

"This is really great," Grian said, looking over at Mumbo. "He, uh, Mumbo, told me you own the place?"

Pearl let out a fond sigh and propped her elbow on the table, resting her head in the palm of her hand. "Oh geez, I swear he tells everyone who steps foot in here," she said, sounding a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, I do. I built most of the place up too. It was pretty run down when I got it. I'm coming up on three years now." She looked over at Mumbo and said, "God, he's so embarrassing."

Grian chuckled and said, "Aw, don't say that. He's just..." The next part was difficult to say, but he felt the need to say it. "He's just proud of you."

They sat in a passive silence, the only sound coming from the clinking of their cups as they took sips of their drinks. Grian's mind raced with questions, and swishing his drink around only entertained him for a few seconds. "So, how did you and Mumbo meet?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

Pearl seemed surprised at the question, but she answered nonetheless. "At uni, it was a music production class. I don't remember which one, to be honest. But we were paired together for a project and just clicked. We kept hanging out, and he even helped me out with this place."

"Oh yeah! He mentioned, well, complained about you exploiting him for free labor?" Grian chuckled.

Pearl laughed, trying to keep it down. "And that's another reason he tells everyone. He wants the sympathy."

Grian laughed softly at that before asking, "What was his major contribution here?"

Pearl pulled the curtain back slightly, pointing towards the baby grand piano on the stage. "That beauty," she said with a proud smile.

The piano didn't look pristine, but it was well taken care of. Grian would have assumed it was a hand-me-down or bought for a lower price than usual. "What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Pearl's fingers danced across the phone screen, scrolling through what seemed like an endless stream of photos. Grian watched with growing curiosity, wondering what it was that she was searching for. After what felt like an eternity, she let out a triumphant exclamation, "I FOUND IT!" Grian held his breath as Mumbo stirred slightly in his sleep, but settled back into a deep slumber, and Pearl breathed a sigh of relief. "I found it," she whispered, turning her phone toward Grian.

What he saw on the screen was a far cry from the polished baby grand on stage. Instead, the photo showed a dilapidated piano that looked like it had been abandoned on the side of the road. Its legs appeared wobbly and barely capable of supporting its weight, several keys were missing, and the body was chipped, faded, and broken. Grian gaped in disbelief as he looked back and forth between the photo and the instrument in front of him.

"It is not..." he whispered, still struggling to reconcile the two images.

Pearl beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with pride. "It is!" she declared. "Mumbo worked on that thing every single day, even though he complained about it all the time. I wasn't making him do it, by the way," she said, matter-of-factly. "But I think he secretly enjoyed it. He doesn't put that much energy into something he doesn't love."

Grian was taken aback. "First off, I didn't even know he could fix pianos, and secondly, he must be married to his work then," he said, half-joking. "I don't think I'd recognize him if he didn't have his computer."

Pearl chuckled. "Hopefully, you can meet him without it, although it's a rare occurrence. It's probably going to be a while till I can peel him off of that."

"Why's that?" Grian asked, slightly confused.

"Seriously?" Pearl asked, receiving no response from Grian. "Dude, he's like obsessed with you."

Grian nearly choked on his tea at her words. He coughed quietly, trying to compose himself as Pearl patted him on the back. "Don't die, that would look bad for my brand," she said, earning an eye roll from Grian. "I mean, look, Mumbo has always been a music nerd, but I have never seen him this excited when it came to his work. I swear I've heard more about you in the past few weeks than I have ever in my life, and your songs play on the radio daily." Grian glanced at Mumbo from the corner of his eye. "It's not my place to tell you his story or what he does or doesn't feel, but I think he really likes working with you."

Grian smiled softly at that. "Yeah, I like working with him too." Then he turned to Pearl with a mischievous grin on his face. "But what stories can you tell me about him?" Pearl's expression mirrored his own, and they spent the next hour or so talking, mostly about Mumbo, but also about themselves. Grian learned a lot about Pearl - she was an amazing person, to say the least. She worked tirelessly in everything she did, was unwaveringly loyal, (The stories of how Mumbo experimented on her household appliances, and how they more often than not didn't go as planned, were just one of the things that should have made her adverse to the man hanging out with her so often, yet she still considered him one of her best friends.), and shared a close obsession with music.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Pearl gushed, eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "The whole reason I built the stage was to give people a platform to express themselves and showcase their talents. The amount of talent out there is mind-blowing. And let's not forget the added bonus of a free drink for performers. It's a win-win situation." She paused to pull back a curtain, gazing lovingly at the stage. It was her pride and joy.

Grian's curiosity was piqued. "Do you perform up there too?" he asked.

Pearl hesitated before answering, "Uh, sometimes. I play guitar every once in a while."

A third voice chimed in, interrupting their conversation. Grian turned to see Mumbo, barely awake, sipping on a cold coffee.

"She's a songwriter too, so she'll do her songs up there," Mumbo interjected, his voice still groggy from sleep, causing Pearl to screech in embarrassment.

"How long have you been awake for?" Pearl asked, trying to change the subject.

"A bit," Mumbo replied nonchalantly. "But yeah, Pearl writes her own stuff, and I think it's pretty good."

A smile spread across Grian's face as he turned to Pearl. "You have to play me one of your songs now," he said teasingly.

Pearl rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Yeah right. And even if I wanted to, most of my songs require a pianist, which I don't currently have, so sucks."

Mumbo suddenly perked up, sliding out of the booth. "Oh, I'll play for you," he offered. "Just grab your guitar, and I'll accompany you.”

Pearl looked both surprised and hesitant. "Wait, Mumbo! Hold on," she called out, scrambling after him. Grian couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched the two of them walk away.

"What? You're going to make me pay for the drinks anyway, might as well get two of them for free," he quipped, raising to stretch his arms. She rolled her eyes and followed him out, leaving Grian alone in the booth to eavesdrop on their hushed argument outside. The sudden realization that Mumbo could play the piano caught Grian off guard, but it made perfect sense - if he could fix one, he could certainly play it. Disappointed that he couldn't eavesdrop, Grian shifted towards the entrance, taking a moment to put on his mask before peeking through the curtain.

Mumbo handed Pearl her guitar, saying something Grian couldn't make out, and she hesitated for a moment before taking it, her posture tense as they made their way to the stage. Grian strained to hear their conversation as they walked past, but their words were lost to him.

Once on stage, Pearl positioned herself on a stool in front of the microphone, her legs swinging nervously as she adjusted the mic to pick up her voice and guitar. Mumbo took his seat at the piano, stretching his arms out in front of him and cracking his knuckles. With a quick scale on the piano, he captured the attention of the cafe's other patrons, drawing them away from the fading radio music.

As Pearl tapped the microphone, the radio faded out and Grian could feel the anticipation in the air. "Um, hey guys," she began awkwardly, glancing out at the crowd. "If you didn't already know, my name is Pearl and I'm the owner of PearlescentMoon cafe." A smattering of cheers erupted from the back, led by Gem. Pearl giggled and thanked them before introducing Mumbo, who waved shyly.

"Due to a request, we're going to play a little song I wrote called 'Before It's Over,'" Pearl announced, and Grian joined in the polite clapping as she looked to Mumbo. He took a deep breath and let his fingers hit the keys, starting the melody that would carry Pearl's voice.

[Before It’s Over - Lindsay Mendez]

Grian was taken aback by the melody that flowed out of Mumbo's fingers. Despite his earlier disbelief, Mumbo was now playing a gentle tune that reverberated throughout the space, filling every corner with its soft notes. Pearl, her voice quiet at first, began singing her first verse. She looked down towards her guitar, gripping it tightly, but as she continued to play, her confidence grew. Her posture relaxes slightly when she adjusts her grip on her instrument, plucking at a few strings. Soon, she began strumming a few notes, adjusting her grip again, and sat up straighter, her eyes focused on the crowd in front of her.

"See a world, beautiful and strange," she sang, her voice carrying through the microphone and into the ears of every listener. Grian was struck by the authenticity and emotion in her voice. It was rare to find such a genuine and heartfelt talent these days. As he sat back and listened, he felt himself getting lost in the music, feeling the energy of the room shift to match the melody. He doesn’t usually get enraptured by people's abilities, but Pearl has the gift that many would kill to have. The ability to make people want to hear what she has to say.

“Can’t go back to what I was before. Now that I can see so much more.” Grian's attention shifted towards Mumbo. His eyes were closed, lost in the music as he swayed to the beat. He was completely absorbed in making music and enjoying the moment. This was the guy Pearl had talked about earlier, and Grian couldn't help but smile fondly at his friend.

“Maybe this sounds crazy but I’m happy that it happened,” Pearl pauses, meeting Mumbo’s gaze as her features soften, “Happy that I came,” she looks down at her guitar, “Happy that I’m here.” she looks back up a final time, making eye contact with Grian as she begins strumming again. She lets her voice carry through the room as she sings her final verse. It was a moment of pure magic, as if time had stopped and nothing else mattered. As her voice faded out into the silence, there was a brief moment of stillness, before the room erupted into applause and cheers from the few people, Gem, and Grian, who also gave a nod towards Mumbo.

It was a moment that reminded Grian of when he first started performing, and he couldn't help but embrace the wave of nostalgia that washed over him.

“Thank you,” Pearl said as she hopped off the bench and handed her guitar to Mumbo. The two made their way back to the booth, greeted by several praises from the customers. Grian scooted back into the booth as they approached, still reflecting on the song. Pearl's performance reminded him of himself, and the song had stirred up a certain part of his brain, the part that craved more before it was over. He fiddled with his fingers, trying to organize his thoughts.

“So, what did you think?” Mumbo asked, making his way back into the booth with a quiet Pearl.

“Honestly? It was magnificent,” Grian said. “First of all, you,” he pointed to Mumbo, “didn’t tell me you could play piano, much less that well. And you,” he turned his attention towards Pearl, who slightly froze, “have a gift.” Pearl stayed silent, obviously not expecting that reaction.

“Do you know what people would do to have a voice like yours? You have such a unique authenticity, and as someone who tends to write emotion-powered songs, you have the ability where it comes naturally to you. That’s amazing,” Grian praised. “In full transparency, I would not mind singing or writing with you sometime.” Pearl's eyes widened in surprise.

“S-seriously?” she asked, Mumbo also a bit shocked by Grian’s sudden offer. “Like, are you actually being real? That’s like an outrageous opportunity,” she rambled as Mumbo put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Pearl, this is when you say yes. Don’t waste this,” he said, and Pearl relaxed, looking towards Grian with an open hand.

“I think I would regret it if I didn’t try.” Grian's mind raced as a lightbulb hit him like a truck, and he quickly whipped out his phone, typing out everything that came to mind.

“Uh, what?” Pearl asked Mumbo, a bit confused. Mumbo laughed.

“Great, you got him started. Now I’m going to have to prepare for another song.”

Chapter Text

Scar's voice was laced with hesitance, "Grian, not to be a stick in the mud, but are you sure a cafe is the best place to openly write a song? I mean, obviously it's fine when you're alone, but with four of us? Are you absolutely sure?" Grian could see the unspoken question in Scar's bewildered expression, silently asking, ‘Have you gone insane? Since when do you actively go out?’

Grian laughed off Scar's concerns. "Yes, Scar, I'm sure. According to Mumbo, Pearl said she'd close up a little early anyways," he reassured Scar, pulling out his phone for the millionth time to confirm the plan.

"You're uncharacteristically excited about this," Scar observed, smiling.

Grian chuckled nervously, "Is that a bad thing?"

"Nope," Scar popped the 'p', "it's just been a while since I've seen you this excited for something like... this," he said, circling his hands as he searched for the right words.

Grian giggled, playfully mocking Scar's movements. "And what is 'this,' exactly?"

Scar rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Like an event. Not a work accomplishment, you know? A fun, non-work hangout, that's 'this.'"

"You do know this technically is work, right? We're going to write a song," Grian replied, an annoying smirk on his face.

"You're a nuisance," Scar teased, earning a playful bat of Grian's eyelashes saying ‘Who? Me?’ in response. "But I'm counting it more as a hangout because, one," he held up a finger, "you're introducing me to someone else and you've been talking about this certain someone literally all day. Two," he lifted another finger, "you're actually on time for something, which is bone-chilling. And three," he raised one last finger, "you normally lock yourself in a room when writing, so this is different."

Grian was about to retort with a snarky comment on how he doesn’t write like that all the time, but the driver rolled down the separation window, announcing their arrival. Grian jumped out of the car as the driver assisted Scar into his chair. It was a well-practiced exchange, considering how often Scar tagged along to the places Grian visited. "Thanks, Tomo," Scar said, waving goodbye to the driver as he returned to the driver seat. "I'll send a message when to come back," he added before rushing to catch up with the eager singer, who was already opening the door to the cafe.

Grian tugged at the door, but it wouldn't budge. Panic set in as he fished out his phone and fumbled to open his messages with Mumbo. Maybe he got the wrong date. Before he could unlock the app, the door swung open, revealing the man himself.

"Sorry," Mumbo apologized. "Pearl normally locks the door when she closes up early." Grian breathed a sigh of relief, his posture relaxing at the sight of the taller man or perhaps the open door. Let’s just say it was the door.

"It scared the daylights out of me, jeez.” he huffed, “I thought I got the wrong date or something," Grian said, looking up at Mumbo.

"With the amount of times you made sure today was the right day? I would have been impressed," Scar said, rolling up to the entrance.

"SCAR--" Grian scolded, his face flushing, as Scar laughed and pushed his way into the cafe, with Mumbo holding the door open.

"You've been checking all day?" Mumbo asked, an amused smile on his face.

Grian ignored him and stepped inside the cozy and warm interior of the cafe, Mumbo laughed softly behind him. Soft glow from the string lights overhead and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. He smiled, taking in the ambiance. Grian gave Scar an ‘I told you,’ look, as Scar looked around, giving the place another once-over.

"Alright, I admit, I dig the vibe of this place. You know me, I'm a sucker for theming," Scar said, giving a nod of approval.

"Oh! I'm glad you like it!" Pearl's voice rang out. She appeared in the space, dressed much more casually than the last time Grian saw her. Her hair was covered by the blue hood of her jacket, and she wore a white shirt and jeans. She waved to Grian and extended a hand out towards Scar. "Hey, I'm Pearl, Mumbo's friend. I'm not sure if Grian has mentioned me."

Scar eagerly shook her hand. "Scar, it's a pleasure. Oh, and don't worry, he has. Says you've got quite the pipes," he said, flashing her a charming smile.

She rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "Oh, I don't think I'm that good--" She stopped at the glare Grian and Mumbo shot towards her, quickly changing the subject. "Well, before we start, would you guys like anything? Drink? Eat?"

"Ooo! Do you have any Irish Breakfast tea?" Scar perked up as Pearl nodded excitedly.

"Of course! Grian same as last time?" Grian just nodded. Pearl shifted her weight between her heels and the balls of her feet. "Wonderful! Mumbo, go make tea," she demanded.

Mumbo sighed and walked towards the bar. "You still have to show me where it all is. You change the layout like every week," he said, and Pearl followed behind him. The sounds of bickering moved away from the other pair.

Grian couldn't help but watch the two behind the counter. He couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy he felt when he saw how easily she conversed with Mumbo. Scar nudged him in the side, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Everything okay?" Scar asked, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Peachy," Grian replied, though he couldn't quite shake off the feeling of unease. As Pearl returned, Scar joked about forcing Mumbo to work, and Pearl revealed that she had even managed to get him to work her shift the next day. Grian couldn't help but smile at their banter, though his attention kept getting drawn back to Mumbo.

He watched as the man moved behind the counter, his hands deftly working to prepare their tea. Grian was mesmerized by the way Mumbo's fingers moved, so precise and efficient. He couldn't help but wonder what those hands would feel like on his own skin. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickly shook his head to clear it. ‘What the hell was that?’ He thought.

"Earth to Grian," Scar said, waving a hand in front of his face. "You with us?"

Grian blinked, refocusing on Scar's face. "Yeah, sorry about that," he said, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it," Scar said with a chuckle. "Just don't go getting lost in your own head, we need you here to help write this song." Grian nodded, grateful for the reminder.

“Well, as I was saying,” Pearl continued, “Scar, I can tell this is the start of a wonderful partnership.” She said jokingly, Grian would probably be more afraid of the two’s mayhem if he wasn’t distracted by Mumbo and maybe about the fact he had convinced Pearl to close the cafe, not for Pearl’s sake, but for his. He chose to ignore the way his stomach flipped, when he continued to glance at the man behind the counter.

-

Pearl glanced at Grian from the corner of her eye as he tore his gaze away from her best friend. Grian reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook and pen, signaling to Pearl and Scar that it was time to get to work on their song. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in her chest as she watched Grian flip through his notebook, his eyes shining with anticipation. The cafe around them faded away as they dove into the world of songwriting. It was therapeutic, a welcome break from the chaos of running the cafe.

"So, Pearl," Grian began, his smile encouraging as a wave of professionalism suddenly filled the air, "have you thought of any lyrics or melodies that you want to work with?"

Pearl fidgeted in her seat, feeling a pang of guilt at having neglected her songwriting lately. "Um, not really," she admitted. "I've been meaning to start writing more, but I just haven't had the time lately."

Grian nodded understandingly. "That's okay. Sometimes it's easier to work off of someone else's ideas, anyway." He flipped through his notebook, finally landing on a page. "This is some of the stuff I started on, mostly based on when I first heard your song." He slid the book over to Pearl, who eagerly took it, scanning through the lines and lines of words.

Scar, who had logged into his computer and pulled up an audio editor, asked, "Any ideas for the vibe of this song?"

As she scanned the lines of words, one line caught her eye: "Don't wanna live as an unsung melody." She pointed to it, her finger pressing into the page. "I like that one," she said. Sliding towards Grian who circled the line, humming in agreement. Feeling more in her element Pearl opened up her own book, ready to contribute. "Well, the song you’re talking about was basically about how I’ve been making excuses for too long instead of taking charge of making changes. We’re probably going for a ‘Screw you, I’m going to do what I want,’ vibe."

Grian's eyes shone with excitement. "We need to make this rock," he exclaimed. Pearl's heart thrilled with excitement too. She had never attempted to write a rock song before, but now was the perfect opportunity.

Scar grinned. "Joel is going to be excited about that," he said.

"Joel?" Pearl questioned, not having heard the name before, not from Mumbo at least.

"He's my drummer," Grian explained. "And he's been begging for a rock song for flipping ever. He'll be thrilled." Grian sighed in mock disappointment.

Scar laughed. "And it'll be easy to get the others to agree to it too. I'll talk to them once we get the bare bones of the song done."

"I'll join you," Grian said, then turned to Pearl. "I can give you the time and stuff for when we meet with the band."

"Wow, a band," Pearl said, feeling a bit surprised. As a one-man band (plus an occasional Mumbo on the piano), she had forgotten what it was like to collaborate with other musicians.

From across the room, Mumbo's voice cut through the chatter, asking Pearl to help him with the drinks. "Coming!" she called back, but turned to Grian. "Hey, can you go help Mumbo with that?" she asked, more of a command than a request.

Grian's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he rose from his seat obediently. "Yeah, sure," he said, and headed off to assist Mumbo. Pearl watched him go, then turned back to Scar, a sly smile on her lips. "Is there something going on between them, or is Grian typically that stare-y?" she whispered conspiratorially.

Scar leaned in, his eyes shining. "Oh, you noticed that too?" he whispered excitedly. "Yeah, they've been like that for a while now. It's kind of adorable."

Pearl bounced her arms on the table excitedly, feeling a thrill of excitement at the prospect of playing matchmaker. "I think we should definitely try to get them together," she said, grinning mischievously. "I mean, they clearly have some chemistry there, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste."

Scar nodded in agreement. "Oh I'm with you on that one," he said. "But let's focus on the song for now, and we can worry about their love lives later."

Pearl nodded, still feeling giddy at the idea. But then a sudden realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "Oh my god," she gasped, causing Scar to give her a confused look. "We're the B team."

Scar threw his hands up dramatically. "Nooooooo! The best friends? The side characters? I can't believe this."

Pearl giggled at his over-the-top reaction. "I knew I was going to like you," she said.

Just then, Mumbo and Grian returned with the drinks. Mumbo set one down in front of Pearl, who joked, "Took long enough," earning an eye roll from Mumbo.

"A thank you would be appreciated," he said, taking a sip from his drink. "Alright, if you need me just yell."

Grian sat back down, looking slightly puzzled. "You're not joining us?" he asked Mumbo.

"I'm not a writer," Mumbo replied simply.

"I mean, he's a writer in the sense that he accidentally recreates Wonderwall at a slower tempo," Pearl quipped, earning a chuckle from Scar.

Mumbo scoffed, "It was ONE TIME!" causing Pearl to burst into laughter. "You're no better Pearl, didn't you rewrite a month's work of a song because the way you wrote it was rotated the wrong way?"

"Well, it was!" Pearl protested, although she was laughing so hard it came out more like a wheeze.

Mumbo stumbled over his words, "What does that even mean?" he said, joining in the laughter.

Pearl's laughter echoed throughout the cafe, tears forming in the sides of her eyes. Mumbo just looked at her with a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself. He announced his departure to another table and put on his headphones, leaving Pearl still giggling and wiping away the tears of laughter from her eyes.

She turned back to see Grian quickly glance towards Scar, who returned the look with a shrug. Grian cleared his throat and said a bit too tightly, "Well, let's continue, yeah?"

Scar and Pearl agreed and turned back to work. Every now and then, Pearl caught Grian staring at Mumbo with a look that was just a little too intense to be friendly. And when Mumbo laughed, overhearing something their table said, Grian's eyes would light up in a way that was far from platonic.

After a few hours of brainstorming, they had the rough outline of the song. Scar promised to work on the music production while Pearl and Grian took charge of the lyrics. As they packed up their belongings and prepared to leave, Pearl felt a spark of excitement ignite within her. Although the prospect of playing matchmaker lingered in her mind, she knew that their priority was completing the song on time. And that she gets to finally record her music again.

"Fantastic work today, guys," Grian praised them with a grin. "Let's meet again on Tuesday and see what we've accomplished." Pearl beamed, feeling gratified by their progress.

As they exited the cafe, Scar fell into step beside her, a friendly grin etched across his face. "You know what, Pearl? We make a pretty great team," he stated with a hint of pride.

Pearl couldn't help but agree, a playful grin lighting up her face, "We do, don't we? And who knows? Maybe we'll be even better as matchmakers."

"We've got our work cut out for us," Scar breathed, "but we'll take it one step at a time." As Grian's car pulled up, they bid their farewells and went their separate ways, all eagerly anticipating what the next day would bring. Pearl waved goodbye to Mumbo and locked up her building, feeling grateful for her unexpected friendships she had formed. Perhaps a little bit of matchmaking would add even more excitement to her already pretty exciting life.

Chapter Text

Pearl stood outside the grand marble building, her gaze fixed on the address displayed on her phone. Doubt momentarily gripped her as she contemplated her keycard-less predicament. Just as she was about to reach for her phone to text Mumbo for assistance, her attention was abruptly diverted by the sight of a tall, tousled-haired stranger sprinting towards her. His guitar bag swayed rhythmically on his back, while he deftly adjusted his grip on the drum sticks clutched in his hands. With remarkable speed, he fished a keycard from his light blue flannel pocket.

"Pardon me!" he shouted, his voice resonating with urgency. In one swift motion, he swiped the card across the reader, unlocking the door, and vanished into the building. Pearl, quick to react, caught the door before it could close completely, allowing herself, hesitantly, inside. The foyer lay deserted, devoid of any signs of reception or a call button. Her uncertainty mounting, Pearl contemplated reaching out to Mumbo again to gain the location of their rehearsal room. Yet, before she could even delete her previous message, the man materialized, striding purposefully through the lobby corridor.

Unaware of her presence, he carried multiple bags of equipment, determinedly making his way towards his destination. "Mumbo!" Pearl called out, her voice echoing through the empty space. The man stumbled briefly, a surprised expression playing across his features, though he didn't halt his stride.

"Oh, Pearl! Hey, last I heard, the guys were in rehearsal room 3," he replied, his tone betraying a rare seriousness. It was a sight that caught Pearl off guard—Mumbo in his "business mode," uncharacteristically composed and focused. Many agreed that this side of Mumbo, free from his usual antics, was truly remarkable, but pales in comparison to the goofy version they love.

"Wait, where is that?" Pearl called out, her voice trailing after the receding figure.

"All the way down the hall, take a right. There should be a sign on the wall pointing to each room. Have fun!" he replied before disappearing around the corner. Pearl felt a twinge of confusion, assuming Mumbo would be joining them today, but she shrugged it off and proceeded down the hallway. The studio was a new experience for her, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and intimidation. Each door she passed emanated music and hushed conversations, while the walls boasted an array of awards, albums, and photographs belonging to various artists. A pair of impeccably dressed employees crossed her path, their confident demeanor only amplifying Pearl's sense of inadequacy. She clutched her bag straps tightly, striving to fade into the background. Finally, she reached the end of the corridor, finding the sign that directed her to "rehearsal room 3."

As Pearl neared the door of the designated room, she could faintly hear voices engaged in an argument from within. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she mustered the courage to knock politely before slowly pushing the door open and peeking inside. The room revealed itself to be larger than she had anticipated, with a small stage prominently set up at the front and a scattering of instruments throughout. Three individuals stood in the center, engrossed in their dispute, completely unaware of Pearl's presence.

One of them was the same guy she had encountered outside, still gripping the drumsticks he had carried earlier, warding off another man—shorter in stature with a distinctive green streak in his hair—who seemed determined to climb the taller guy. Judging from the snippets of conversation Pearl managed to catch, their argument revolved around recording a speed time. The third person, a darker-skinned man dressed in a dark blue jumper, made feeble attempts to mediate, though his efforts seemed half-hearted at best. Momentarily unsure of how to proceed, Pearl found solace in the gaze of a fourth person, Scar, who noticed her and motioned for her to come inside. Navigating past the bickering trio, she settled beside Scar, who was practically radiating with enthusiasm—she started to believe this was his default setting.

"I'm so excited you made it!" Scar cheered, completely disregarding the ongoing "Jim, I'm going to kill you" and "Tell me my time, and maybe I'll give it back" in the background. "Grian should be here in a bit, he's running late. But if Jimmy asks, he's busy vacuuming his cat's rug," he casually added before a loud crash interrupted the conversation, causing everyone to fall silent.

"JOEL, MY GUITAR!" the jumper-clad guy shrieked, abandoning his position to retrieve it from the floor. In the brief distraction, the tall blond man's attention wavered for a moment, allowing the green-streaked guy to seize the drumsticks and taunt him childishly, sticking out his tongue when the focus returned.

Scar chuckled at their playful antics, then turned back to Pearl. "I guess I should have introduced you. Pearl, this is Grian's band. The tall one is Jimmy, and the short one is Joel." Jimmy offered a polite greeting, while Joel shot a threatening glare at Scar, who simply ignored him and continued, "And the one clutching his guitar is BigB."

"Hey, I've had this guitar forever. Tell Joel to calm down for once, and I wouldn't have to be clutching it in the first place," BigB argued, directing a pointed glare at Joel.

Joel shrugged, smirking at Scar. "Hey, who's the new face?" he asked, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. The others followed his gaze, Pearl suddenly felt self-conscious with the sudden attnetion.

"This is Pearl," Scar beamed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "She's the featured artist for this song!"

"Pleasure to meet you," Pearl said, rubbing her neck in embarrassment.

Jimmy reached for his bag. "The pleasure's ours, Pearl. You must be pretty good for Grian to take you on. I can't remember the last time he actively wanted to write a collab."

"Really?" Pearl asked, her surprise evident, as the others nodded in agreement. "Huh, well, I'm honored," she added, feeling a sense of relief. The group continued to chat for a few more minutes, and Pearl seamlessly meshed into their unique mix of personalities. She discovered that the argument had arisen from Joel forgetting his 'precious drumsticks' at home, and Jimmy had dared him to retrieve them within ten minutes, promising a week's worth of lunches if successful. Well, she had witnessed the outcome of that bet.

Engrossed in a deep conversation about guitar strings with Jimmy, Pearl didn't notice the door opening until Grian casually walked in. "Hey," he greeted in a sing-song voice, removing his guitar bag.

Jimmy shot a mock-irritated look at Grian. "How was vacuuming?" he asked playfully.

"It went well, thank you very much," Grian replied with feigned joviality. He grabbed his laptop and made his way toward Pearl and Scar, his brow furrowing as he scanned the room. "Where is..."

"He got dragged into a meeting. A performance review or something?" Scar interjected, preventing Grian from even mentioning Mumbo's name. The knowing look Scar gave Grian reminded Pearl of their two-wingman/woman plan, a name Scar had coined when discussing their strategies online. She smiled innocently as Grian's face momentarily fell.

"Well, okay, um," Grian refocused, placing his laptop on the table. "Wanna finish up these lyrics, Pearl? The guys can start warming up and getting the kinks out of the music."

Pearl nodded eagerly, her fingers poised above her own keyboard. "Sure thing, let's get these lyrics polished and ready to go."

Grian settled next to Pearl, their heads leaning close together as they huddled. They had been collaborating on the song over the past few days, with a shared document filled with lines and notes, lyrics highlighted in an array of colors. Now, all they needed to do was decide how certain parts sounded in person. The room filled with laughter and banter as they bounced ideas off each other, fine-tuning the lyrics. Occasionally, they would break into spontaneous bursts of singing and harmonizing, testing the flow and melody of the words and lines.

Meanwhile, Scar took charge of the rest of the band, directing them to start warming up and going through the music. Each member picked up their instrument, with Jimmy strumming a few chords on his bass to test the sound. The band followed suit, tuning their instruments and finding their rhythm. They played snippets from the approved sheet music and occasionally freestyled, never missing a chance to poke fun at Grian and insisting that their version was superior. Grian would roll his eyes but often approve their changes, allowing their creative energies to flow.

Pearl and Grian continued reviewing the beginning of the song, their playful banter temporarily set aside. Grian pointed at the line, ‘Dodging bullets with your broken past,’ a mischievous smirk on his face. "Wow, green highlighter, who broke your heart?" he joked.

Pearl laughed in response. "Please, I'd never let a guy ruin me that bad. Mumbo actually helped me with that line. His ex was a proper ass."

Pearl resisted smiling as Grian choked on air, coughing into his arm. He managed to compose himself, his voice sounding slightly higher pitched than usual. "Ah, I see!" he exclaimed, attempting to maintain an air of casualness and doing so poorly.

Raising an eyebrow, Pearl playfully whispered, "Oh, Grian, could it be that you're a bit jealous?" She enjoyed teasing him, relishing in the playful tension between them.

Grian tried to regain his composure, his cheeks still slightly flushed. He cleared his throat and responded, "Jealous? Me? No way. Just surprised, that's all. Hey, is that a ring? Since when did you have a ring? Are you engaged?!"

Pearl couldn't help but giggle at Grian's flustered state. She’d never see him caught off guard like this, and she found it endearing. She decided to drop the teasing and accepted the change in subject, not wanting to make him too uncomfortable.

Pearl giggled, finding Grian's flustered reaction endearing. She decided to ease his discomfort and shift the topic. "Pft—Absolutely not! Mumbo got it for me as a graduation gift." Her smile softened as she remembered the special moment. She had seen the ring much earlier, falling in love with it but leaving it behind due to its high price. She had complained about it for weeks afterward, especially when the jewel disappeared from the display shelf. However, on the day of her graduation, Mumbo surprised her with the box, sleek and black. She opened the box containing the ring. It was a small silver ring with a beautiful jewel-encrusted crescent moon. It was shimmering in the light as though it held millions of trapped stars. It was perfect. Pearl lightly ran her finger over it. "I've been meaning to get a chain for it. I don't want to risk losing it in someone's drink," she laughed, and Grian joined in, albeit a bit forced. She decided it was time to shift the focus away from Mumbo for now, clicking her pen open.

"Alright, alright, let's focus up," she said, her smile becoming softer. "We're almost there, and I want this song to be perfect." She winked playfully at Grian, a spark of determination in her eyes, reminding him that they had work to do.

Grian nodded, grateful for the shift in focus. He took a deep breath, his professionalism returning. "You're right, you’re right."

The room seemed to come alive with energy as they immersed themselves in their work. Their earlier banter served as a brief, lighthearted interlude, but now they were fully engaged, their minds synchronized. They dove deep into the lyrics, each line a collaboration between their unique perspectives and talents. Pearl could feel their connection growing stronger with each word they crafted together. She never thought she’d be friends with Grian, much less writing a song, but life can be a bit silly sometimes. Pearl couldn't help but be amazed at the natural flow of their collaboration, their shared passion for music shining through in every line they composed. It was as if they were in their own little world, fueled by creativity and a genuine understanding of each other.

In the midst of their intense focus, Grian gasped excitedly, his eyes widening. "What if this part," he highlighted a section of the chorus on his computer screen, "we had the boys sing it?"

Pearl pondered the idea for a moment, glancing over at the band members who were fully engrossed in their practice. "Could we hear it?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Without hesitation, Grian jumped up and hurried over to BigB, his laptop in hand. They huddled together, going over the lines and discussing something that was beyond Pearl's hearing distance. The guitarist nodded, his fingers deftly strumming the strings of his instrument. Grian stood by his side, counting off the beats as they approached the chorus.

As the band reached the chorus, Grian and BigB stepped forward, their voices intertwining in a mesmerizing display of talent and harmony. The room instantly came alive with a surge of energy, as if the very air was charged with the magic of their voices. Pearl's eyes widened in sheer delight, her heart racing as she witnessed the breathtaking realization of her idea. The room seemed to vibrate with the sheer power and chemistry of the musicians, captivating her completely. It was a moment of pure enchantment, and she couldn't help but be swept away by the swirling currents of music that surrounded her.

Grian and BigB's voices resonated through the air, their melodies lingering for a precious moment before fading away, leaving behind a momentary silence that hung in the room. Pearl's smile radiated with uncontainable excitement as she erupted into applause, her hands clapping with fervor.

"Yes! Absolutely stunning!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with awe. "It sounds even more incredible than I could have imagin- Wait!" She paused, a mischievous glimmer dancing in her eyes, and joined them onstage. "Do that again! I have an idea!"

The atmosphere in the room crackled with electricity, as laughter and playful banter reverberated through the air. There was an undeniable sense of camaraderie and a shared passion for creating something truly extraordinary. Pearl's presence infused the group with a renewed vigor, her quick wit and boundless creativity igniting a fire within each of them.

They continued to fine-tune the song, seamlessly blending their musical instincts with bursts of spontaneous jamming and improvisation. With every run-through, the song evolved, gradually revealing its polished and refined form.

Pearl's remarkable ability to seamlessly integrate into the group made her an invaluable addition, both in terms of musicality and the deep sense of connection they shared. She felt how she effortlessly matched their playful humor, and her unique insights brought a fresh perspective to the songwriting process. She was relieved when the guys were grateful for her presence, embracing her as an equal member of their musical family.

As the day wore on, their unwavering dedication and hard work began to bear fruit. The song started to take shape, capturing the very essence of their collective vision. They embarked on one of their final run-throughs, and as Pearl hit her final note, the room fell into a momentary hush. The sound of polite clapping resonated from the doorway, and there stood Mumbo, propping the door open with his foot, arms full of equipment., struggling to continue his clapping

All eyes turned towards him, and Pearl couldn't help but notice the sudden shift in Mumbo's demeanor. His usual anxiousness seemed to intensify as he fidgeted, his weight shifting uneasily between his feet. It was a nervous habit she had observed in him for years. Stammering slightly, he managed to blurt out, "Oh, um, that sounded great, guys!" His words carried a mix of awkward enthusiasm and genuine appreciation. "Sorry to interrupt, but would you mind if I borrowed Grian for a bit?"

Grian, ever eager, immediately responded, "I think we were about done anyways." He looked back at the group with a warm smile. "You guys need anything else?" Without waiting for a response, he swiftly moved to put his guitar down and began zipping it back into its bag.

The rest of the band chimed in with words of assurance and gratitude as Grian made his way towards the door. "Hey, you all did great. Thank you!" he called out, his voice filled with appreciation, his eyes briefly meeting Pearl's. "Pearl, we'll discuss a recording date." With that, he followed Mumbo, immediately turning to a conversation, animated and engaging.

Joel, seizing the opportunity to break the momentary silence, lightly tapped his drumstick on the snare drum, creating a soft beat that filled the room. "So that's the infamous Mumbo," he remarked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. The rhythm he created added a comforting backdrop to the conversation, injecting a sense of familiarity and ease into the air.

"Dude! Did you see his mustache? It's like a work of art!" Jimmy exaggeratedly gestured towards the door. "I wonder if I could—"

BigB swiftly covered Jimmy's mouth, cutting him off. "I'm not even going to let you finish that thought. You are not growing a mustache," he said firmly, causing Jimmy to deflate in an act of mock sadness.

Pearl raised an eyebrow, looking at the bandmates. "You guys haven't met Mumbo yet?" She found it strange that they weren't familiar with the man, but perhaps she had just grown too accustomed to his presence.

"Not in person, but Grian talks about him so much that we practically feel like we've met him," Joel groaned, spinning around on his stool, attempting to balance his drumstick on his finger.

Jimmy rolled his eyes, hoisting his bass off his body. "He seems nice enough," he yawned.

"He is!" Pearl exclaimed excitedly. "Trust me, I've known him for years. You just have to get to know him." She spoke over her shoulder, starting to pack up her belongings.

"I'm curious about the spell he cast on Grian," BigB chuckled.

Scar joined in the laughter, grabbing his gear and helping Pearl pack up. "Oh, you have no idea," he said, exchanging a knowing glance with Pearl.

"Well, I'm heading out if we're done," Jim called out, throwing his guitar strap over his shoulder. Scar gave him a thumbs-up in response.

Joel got up, raising his arms in the air to stretch. "Wicked! Great work today, guys. I killed it, as always," he boasted, earning several eye rolls from the group as Pearl picked up her bag.

"I'll message you all when I get the recording date set up. Have a good night, everyone!" Scar cheered, and the bandmates waved goodbye as they each left with their gear. Once they were all gone, Scar and Pearl made their way out, with Pearl holding the door open as Scar flicked off the lights. He walked her to the entrance, waving goodbye.

"Keep me updated, Scar!" she beamed.

"I shall!" he yelled, his voice slightly muffled by the closed door. As Pearl began her walk home, her mind started to wander, her gaze fixed on the tall shadows cast by the building. What could Mumbo possibly need Grian for?

-

"Sorry to interrupt, but would you mind if I borrowed Grian for a bit?" Mumbo asked nervously. Grian's excitement surged through his chest, and he couldn't dwell on anything else. Their eyes met, and Grian decided that he had had enough rehearsal for now.

"I think we were about done anyways," Grian replied, glancing at the rest of the group. "You guys need anything else?" he asked, swiftly zipping his guitar into its bag. With a secure hold on the bag, he threw it over his shoulder and made his way toward Mumbo.

He didn't wait for confirmation from the group. After all, he was already packed up and ready to go. As he neared the door, a sudden realization struck him that he had forgotten to say something to the group. (In his defense, he was just too excited. He had a thing for mysterious ‘I need to talk to you’s.) He turned back and called out, "Hey, you all did great! Thank you! Pearl, we'll discuss a recording date." Without stopping, he followed Mumbo out, eagerly asking, "What do you need me for?" as he closed the door behind them.

Mumbo stumbled slightly when turning the corner. "I need- I finished 'The Fall.' I had to show it to upper management first, for some reason," he muttered, sounding a bit confused. "But now I can show you! I actually meant to show you earlier, but you know, life happened, and I was working on other things, and then you had the other song and rehearsal..." Mumbo's rambling was cut off by Grian's laughter. Grian noticed Mumbo's face heat up as he looked down, so he quickly refocused on their route to the recording booth.

"You're okay, Mumbo, I swear. Management gets super weird about my stuff sometimes. This is normal," Grian reassured him. Mumbo simply hummed in response. A beat of silence passed before Grian couldn't resist asking, "Did they like it?"

Mumbo beamed at him, his pride shining through. "Yeah! Obviously, it's an amazing song, Gri," Mumbo praised. Grian vaguely registered Mumbo continuing to talk about the meeting, but he was too caught up in the warmth of the nickname. A feeling of warmth spread throughout his chest and settled nicely on his cheeks as he basked in the presence of the man beside him. He was truly grateful to have Mumbo as a friend.

Miraculously, they arrived in the room with all the equipment, gear, and Mumbo intact. Grian helped him put away some of the equipment while Mumbo plugged in what he needed to play the song. Grian playfully stole Mumbo's chair, spinning and scooting around the area, earning an exasperated yet amused look from Mumbo. Meanwhile, Mumbo plugged his computer into one of the speakers, preparing everything for their final listen. After a few moments, Grian leaned back in the studio chair, tapping his foot nervously as Mumbo adjusted the soundboard. They had spent weeks working on this single, and now they were finally reaching the moment of truth. Excitement and nervousness mingled within Grian's chest.

"Okay, Grian," Mumbo said, leaning against the desk. "I think we're ready to give it a listen."

Grian nodded, feeling a knot of anticipation forming in his stomach. He was both eager and slightly nauseous to hear how the song would sound.

Mumbo pressed the play button, and the room filled with Grian's voice. Grian closed his eyes, fully immersing himself in the music, taking in the melody and appreciating every component coming together for the first time. He was acutely aware that this was his first conscious listening experience of Mumbo's work, and he couldn't say he was disappointed in the slightest. His eyes remained shut until he reached the final chorus. When the song ended, Grian opened his eyes to find Mumbo grinning from ear to ear.

"It's amazing, Grian," Mumbo declared, his excitement palpable in his voice.

Grian blushed, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. "Thanks, Mumbo. You did an incredible job with the mixing. Like, seriously, wow. I can see why they were so eager to make you work," he rambled, trying to hide the blush creeping across his face.

Mumbo shrugged, a smile still lingering on his lips as he looked at Grian. "It was all you, man. You're the real talent."

Grian smiled, knowing deep down that he couldn't have accomplished it without Mumbo. However, he also understood that Mumbo wouldn't take credit for it himself, at least not now. As they wrapped up the session, a sense of satisfaction washed over Grian. He knew in his heart that the song was going to be well recieved. He just knew it.

"Hey," Mumbo called out from where he was, stuffing his computer into his backpack. "So, you're cool with approving it? I'll start the export and everything if you are."

Grian beamed at him, mustering the brightest smile he could. "Absolutely! I'm incredibly happy with it," he replied, walking out of the room, completely unaware of the lingering gaze that followed him.

He walked alongside Mumbo as most of the people headed home for the night. "I'll see you, G!" Mumbo waved before putting on his headphones and walking away from the studio. Grian's car pulled up shortly after, and he easily hopped in, greeted by Tomo. He plugged in his own headphones, gazing out at the rapidly setting sun. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything, the feeling gripping his heart. Man is he lucky for his friends.

Chapter Text

"Pearl, for the love of all things holy, just put on the blasted headphones!" Mumbo exclaimed, his patience wearing thin. Inside the studio booth, Pearl's eyes scanned every inch of the space, her enthusiasm palpable enough to make Grian imagine stars twinkling in her gaze, as if she were a character straight out of a cartoon.

"Mumbo, did you see? They have Shure mics! SHURE MICS!" Despite the slight muffled sound, due to her being inside the booth, her excitement resonated in her voice. Her hands hovered around the microphone, and Mumbo adjusted it to her height.

"Yes, Pearl, I am aware. I do work here," he replied, rolling his eyes playfully, indulging in her sense of wonder. "I might consider getting you one for Christmas. But until then, please stop drooling over the mic." Grian's emotions became entangled, his mind couldn’t decide what he was feeling. On one hand, witnessing Pearl's genuine excitement reminded him of his own beginnings, endearing and evoking a strange sense of nostalgia. On the other hand, he felt a twinge of exclusion, yearning to be inside the booth, not just for recording purposes (although he was excited about that too), but to be part of the camaraderie. However, Mumbo had asked him to wait outside to prepare for both of them, and since Grian's setup was already in place, it made sense to focus on Pearl first. So there he sat, swinging his legs from the edge of Mumbo's desk, waiting patiently and wondering when he would finally join in the fun.

Grian wasn’t even aware of a fourth person entering the room, until he was signaled by a familiar throat clearing sound nearby. He turned toward the noise and found Scar standing beside him, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. "Enjoying the view?" Scar sarcastically remarked, clearly amused.

Grian playfully smacked Scar's shoulder, his tone defensive. "What? People crowd-watch all the time," he retorted.

"Mhm," Scar responded, as if he had already triumphed. "More like person watching," he muttered under his breath.

"People watching," Grian emphasized, gesturing towards the two inside the booth. "There are two of them. People."

Scar merely pursed his lips, a smile playing on his face. "Yes, of course, people watching," he said, an enigmatic emotion lingering in his eyes. Scar had a reason for bringing this up with Grian. He would admit that he had found himself staring at people lately. Well, mostly Mumbo and Pearl, but people nonetheless. And perhaps, during those moments of captivation, he would hear a faint melody humming in his ears or witness snippets of lyrics appearing before his eyes. Maybe he had even started collecting these musings in his notes app, particularly in moments like this. With a sigh, he retrieved his phone, feeling the gentle vibrations of the keyboard as he writes his thoughts.

Grian's fingers delicately danced across the screen of his phone, capturing the fleeting words and melodies that swirled within his mind. Inspiration had always found its way to him, the world letting him capture a verse or two from someone passing by, but recently, it seemed as though Mumbo had become the sole focus of his observations. Every subtle movement and expression from Mumbo held a captivating allure for Grian, as if Mumbo's mere presence alone could ignite the fire of his creativity. While the pair conversed inside the booth, Grian attempted to divert his attention elsewhere, but his thoughts invariably drifted back to Mumbo. There was an unexplainable longing, a yearning to unravel the enigma of this man who possessed such power over Grian's emotions. It was frustrating, this intense draw towards someone without comprehending the reasons behind it.

Suddenly, Grian snapped out of his reverie, startled to see Mumbo's head poking out of the booth. When did he get there?

Unintentionally, Grian's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry, what?" he stammered, hastily stowing his phone away in his back pocket.

Grian involuntarily blushed at his own lack of awareness. “Sorry, what?” he apologized, putting his phone away in his back pocket.

Mumbo chuckled affectionately. "I need to get you set up," he said, his voice infused with fondness. Grian gracefully descended from his perch and made his way inside, dutifully following Mumbo's directions. Mumbo effortlessly adjusted the microphone to the ideal height, and Grian slipped on his headphones. Next to him, Pearl appeared slightly nervous, shifting her weight anxiously. Grian couldn't help but notice that she had picked up this habit from Mumbo. In response, he flashed her a reassuring smile, which she readily returned.

"Okay, I believe you're both set," Mumbo announced, turning to leave the room and retreating behind his desk. "One last test... Grian, check." Grian obediently followed Mumbo's instructions, reciting numbers into the microphone followed by a short verse. He relished the way Mumbo's smile widened approvingly, even if it was directed at the functionality of his equipment. Mumbo deftly manipulated a few buttons before instructing Pearl to do the same. She imitated Grian's actions, though with a touch more hesitation and a few stutters. Mumbo effortlessly made the necessary adjustments, his smile growing as he spoke into the microphone, "Alright, are you both ready?" Grian responded with a thumbs-up while Pearl nodded eagerly. "Okay, we're going in 3... 2... and..."

[Could Have Been Me - The Struts Feat. Halsey]

As Mumbo reached the final count, music flooded into Grian’s ears. Grian's hand instinctively reached up to touch his headphones, drawing the music closer to his senses. A small smile graced his face as the sound of his friend’s clapping reached his ears. Scar had shared the arduous journey of capturing that audio, and part of Grian wished he had been there to witness the chaotic process. Yet, unless you knew the struggles behind the applause, you would never have guessed the difficulties they encountered.

Then, a dial tone pierced the air, prompting Grian to take a deep breath and let his voice glide towards the microphone. He was caught a little aback at the sound of Pearl’s voice joining him. Most of his collaborations were done remotely, so he couldn't fault himself for feeling a sense of novelty when singing alongside another person. Glancing over, Grian saw Mumbo engrossed in his setup, his hands darting rapidly across an array of buttons and switches that seemed to perform some mystical musical sorcery. The technical side of music had always eluded Grian, but he had always managed to find someone who understood it, even if only fleetingly. However, Mumbo seemed different, someone who could potentially stay by his side for the long haul. Grian reluctantly tore his gaze away when Mumbo looked up, fixing his eyes on the microphone, though secretly hoping Mumbo was gazing at him.

As they delved into the second verse, Grian and Pearl melded harmoniously, their voices intertwining effortlessly. Though they had sung this song before, there was an inexplicable sense of grandeur when performing it in the studio. Grian knew his voice to be steady and dependable, but when fused with Pearl's contagious enthusiasm, he couldn't help but be swept away by her vibrant energy. Observing her restless movements, he nodded along to the rhythm, a smile spreading across his face when her gaze met his. She reciprocated with an enormous grin, singing in unison with him. Grian could almost hear the smile in her voice as they embraced the chorus.

As they reached the pinnacle of the chorus, Grian allowed himself to surrender completely, his voice soaring higher, matching the intensity of the music. He briefly closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment and immersing himself in the experience. When he opened his eyes, he found Pearl staring out, her eyes shimmering with excitement and a profound connection. It was as if they communicated through a language only they understood—a language of music and unspoken emotions. The power of music was simply astonishing.

Grian let himself be carried away by the music, embracing the surround sound that enveloped him. Whoever had decided to amplify the drums in the instrumental section was about to become Joel's best friend. He marveled at how beautifully his band had executed the music, despite it being a rare genre for them to perform. Perhaps they should explore more rock-inspired tracks. By the second chorus, Grian was fully immersed, his bandmates' voices reverberating behind him, Pearl standing by his side, each of them bringing their own unique flair to the performance. He basked in the harmonious chorus of voices blending together. Being a solo artist had its merits, but moments like these reminded him of what he missed. It felt invigorating to be part of a collaborative effort again, a reminder of the pure joy that comes from creating music as a collective whole.

The room was ablaze with the fervor as Grian looked up at Mumbo, giving a subtle nod as the key neared its modulation. Before stepping into the recording studio that day, Grian may or may not had made a slight alteration to the song—a change that may or may not have allowed his friends, especially Pearl, to take the lead in the final moments. As the grand modulation approached, Grian gracefully retreated from the microphone, observing Mumbo skillfully shift the vocal focus towards Pearl. Confusion flickered in her eyes, but Grian reassured her with a thumbs-up and a silent message of encouragement.

Pearl turned her attention to the awaiting microphone, her voice bursting forth in a resounding chorus. The raw emotion that emanated from her, infused with excitement, ambition, and gratitude, struck Grian with an overwhelming force. A massive grin stretched across his face, mirroring the sparkle in Pearl's eyes. Every artist experiences their moment—a time when they surrender themselves wholeheartedly to the music, when they stumble upon their purpose. Grian had experienced his own defining moment when he first embarked on his journey, and he had heard countless tales of others' transformative experiences. But he’s never witnessed one. Now, before his very eyes, he bore witness to Pearl's moment—the birth of her own musical revelation.

A brief hush fell upon the room as Pearl's final note lingered in the air. Grian found himself momentarily speechless, swept up in the enchantment of the moment. Gratitude and pride swelled within his chest, intertwining with the melodies that had just filled the studio.

Suddenly, a thunderous applause erupted from Mumbo and Scar outside the booth, shattering the silence and inundating the room with exuberance and appreciation. Grian eagerly joined in, showering Pearl with a radiant smile. Her infectious laughter reverberated through the space, her feet tapping excitedly against the floor. The energy in the room crackled with electric fervor, igniting a renewed flame of inspiration within Grian's soul.

As the applause gradually subsided, Grian stepped forward, enveloping Pearl in a congratulatory half-hug. "You were absolutely incredible!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with genuine admiration as he playfully shook her. Pearl's face lit up with a mixture of joy and accomplishment, her eyes gleaming brightly. It was a moment they would both cherish.

Pearl gently hung her headphones on the microphone, stepping out of the booth with an air of triumph. She raced toward Mumbo, eagerly sharing her excitement, while Mumbo effortlessly lifted her up, twirling her in celebration. Pearl animatedly recounted the exhilarating journey of the past few minutes, her voice brimming with passion and elation.

"Scar, help me finish this lyric, will you?" Grian requested without turning his head, knowing Scar was likely engrossed in his own phone. Scar emitted a half-hearted hum in agreement, while Grian watched Mumbo and Pearl engrossed in the playback of their recording, both wearing headphones and nodding along in approval. "Cut people out like..."

Without skipping a beat, Scar responded, "Tags on my clothing."

"Thank youuuu," Grian replied, jotting down the line in his notes. This dynamic of effortlessly completing each other's lyrics was not uncommon for them. Ever since Scar had started assisting Grian with writing sessions, they had become remarkably adept at improvising lyrics on the fly. Granted, their initial attempt at writing a song had been a disaster, leaving Grian questioning Scar's suitability as a creative partner. However, Scar had managed to persuade him to persist, and now they were inseparable best friends, their words seamlessly intertwining. Well, if one could call their unfinished sentences "sentences" in the first place, but that was a matter for another time.

Once Scar registered the lyrics, he turned to Grian with a mixture of curiosity and concern etched on his face. "You doing alright there, bud?"

Grian offered him an assuring smile. "Yeah, I've just had this ridiculous song playing in my head for weeks, and I'm so close to finally getting a framework for it."

Scar nudged him playfully. "Got it. Wanna work on it after the session?"

Grian nodded, returning his attention to his phone. "If we can go to your place, then yes. Mine is an absolute mess right now." He could sense Scar on the verge of scolding him, but fortunately, his quick thinking saved him from reprimand. "Hey, how does this sound?" he recited a snippet of a bridge, and Scar pondered it for a moment, just as Mumbo and Pearl removed their headphones. Pearl seemed to draw energy from thin air, her enthusiasm skyrocketing.

Grian slipped away from Scar's side, shooting him a knowing glance that silently conveyed "think about it."

He made his way back into the booth as per Mumbo's request. "Alright, let's go over the chorus, shall we?" Mumbo's voice resonated through their headphones, and both Grian and Pearl responded with enthusiastic agreement. Mumbo continued to guide them through the intricacies of the chorus for the next few hours.

-

The four of them sat around the studio, finding their respective spots. Grian settled on the edge of Mumbo's desk, a position he had come to claim as his own, much to Mumbo's feigned annoyance. But deep down, Grian knew that Mumbo secretly enjoyed having him there. After all, why else would Mumbo rearrange everything, creating a perfect Grian-sized spot on the desk? Mumbo occupied his chair, while Pearl and Scar found their places on the couches.

The music blared through the speakers, and Grian couldn't resist tapping his fingers on the desk, synchronized with the infectious beat that resonated throughout the room. The song they had just recorded was more energetic than Grian's recent creations, but he couldn't help but adore it, even if it left him feeling drained. Pearl, too, couldn't sit still, swaying to the rhythm. Mumbo and Scar joined in with their own subtle movements. All four of them wore variations of a smile as the cymbal reverberations from Joel's drumming faded into silence.

The group erupted in tired but excited cheers. Grian slid off the desk and approached Scar to retrieve his belongings. "That was a blast. Mumbo, you did amazing as always. Scar, you were here for moral support and I love that for you. And Pearl," Grian directed a genuinely proud gaze toward the girl, her eyes sparkling in response, "you absolutely killed it. You should be incredibly proud."

Pearl's gaze softened as she locked eyes with Grian. "I... Thank you, Grian. This was honestly one of the coolest things I've ever done. Thank you," she said, rising from her seat to envelop him in a tight hug, which he reciprocated effortlessly.

"No need to thank me. Your talent brought you here," Grian replied sincerely. Scar pulled Pearl into his own hug, lavishing her with praises that surely reached the ends of the earth. Meanwhile, Grian made his way over to Mumbo, who appeared to be saving and triple-saving the song. "I think you've got it," Grian quipped, playfully teasing Mumbo, causing him to startle a bit.

"You say that now, but if files one and two get corrupted, you'll be calling me a savior," Mumbo retorted, unplugging some equipment.

"Uh huh," Grian responded sarcastically, leaning against the desk. "Hey, you did an amazing job, seriously. I know it's not easy handling two artists at once."

Mumbo brushed off the compliment in his usual manner. "Yeah, but fortunately, I'm familiar with both of your styles, so it wasn't too challenging," he reasoned, attempting to roll up cords and neatly stow them away in his bag. Emphasis on "attempted."

Grian rolled his eyes affectionately, giving Mumbo a mix of annoyance and fondness. "You're incredible, no matter what you say. You can't take that back." Without giving Mumbo a chance to retort, Grian swiftly covered Mumbo's mouth as soon as it opened.

Mumbo's eyes lingered on Grian as he tightly wrapped his hand around Grian's wrist, causing a flutter in Grian's heart. Pulling his hand down with a hint of force, Mumbo teased, "You're such a child." Grian smiled smugly, feeling a warm sense of contentment.

"Hey G, you still up for going to my place?" Scar inquired, rolling over to where Grian and Mumbo stood.

"Yeah, I am," Grian responded, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

"You guys want to join us at the café instead?" Pearl chimed in, her enthusiasm infectious. "Tea's on me!"

Grian couldn't help but laugh at Pearl's spirited offer. "God, that sounds amazing, but Scar and I need to work on this. We'll definitely join you another time, though, for a..."

"Delayed celebration," Scar interjected, shooting her a finger gun.

"Yes! A delayed celebration," Grian echoed.

"Psh, boooo," Pearl playfully teased. "Nah, it's all good. Just give me a heads up, alright?" Grian and Scar nodded in agreement, assuring her that they wouldn't unexpectedly barge in. However, Grian couldn't deny that the temptation to do so had grown stronger between him and Scar. After one final hug, they bid their goodbyes. Grian took his time saying farewell to Mumbo before joining Scar in his car.

As they settled into their seats, Scar let out a yawn, prompting Grian to echo the tiredness. They engaged in lighthearted conversation about trivial matters, with Scar proudly showing Grian his latest Jelly photoshoot pictures. Eventually, Scar redirected the focus to their work.

"What's the song going to be?" Scar asked, leaning toward Grian.

Grian let out a groan. "Please, don't laugh," he pleaded, knowing Scar was already on the verge of doing so. With a sigh, he revealed the working title. "It's not set in stone, but... 'People Watching'."

Chapter Text

"Brain. Think. Words," Grian muttered, his head repeatedly thumping against the table in frustration. It was as though he believed he could physically coax the words out of his stubborn mind.

Pearl leaned casually against the booth, delicately balancing two steaming cups of tea. A mischievous grin played on her lips as she couldn't resist a playful remark, “That seems productive,” She watched with amusement as Grian jolted, startled by her comment.

"Jeez," Grian breathed, realizing he hadn't even noticed his hands instinctively covering his notes. However, he didn't remove them. "Pearl," he said, his tone lacking any real anger.

Pearl couldn't contain her laughter and chimed in, "Wow, Grian, your brainstorming technique is truly revolutionary. I've never seen someone try to physically pummel their thoughts into submission before." Her grin remained, teasing and playful.

Lifting his head from the table, Grian's face revealed a mixture of irritation and amusement. He tried to grumble, but the faint smile behind his frustration made it sound half-hearted.

Pearl's laughter filled the air as she took a seat across from him, still chuckling. "Oh, come on, Grian! You have to admit, your head-banging technique is quite the spectacle."

Grian's irritation dissipated, and he let out a sigh, recognizing the absurdity of his actions. "I suppose I got a little carried away," he conceded. "But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures, right?"

Pearl nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Absolutely! Who needs a quiet and calm brainstorming session when you can engage in a head-banging extravaganza? It's the bold and unconventional approach, my friend."

With a grin, Grian raised his hand to rub the bridge of his nose, still keeping his notes hidden. "Well, at least I'm entertaining you with my mental struggles. After all, I am an entertainer, here to provide a spectacle."

Pearl playfully nudged him with her elbow. "Maybe you should consider taking your head-banging routine on tour."

Grian feigned a glare before laughter escaped his lips. "Ah, the world isn't quite ready for that level of performance art."

Pearl's laughter filled the air once again as she raised her cup of tea in a toast. "To unconventional methods and the creativity that comes from bashing our heads against metaphorical walls! Cheers, Grian!"

Their cups clinked together, the sound resonating with the joy of their lighthearted banter. As they sipped their tea and continued their friendly conversation, Grian felt the weight of his earlier frustration lifting, replaced by the ease of genuine connection.

"You mind if I ask what you're working on?" Pearl inquires, her eyes already attempting to sneak a peek at Grian's papers.

He, not so casually, tries to hide them further from her view. "Just a song," he replies simply, but Pearl's expectant gaze compels him to continue. "I've got most of the bridges and verses done, and the entire intro was finished a while ago. It's just the chorus that's been giving me trouble," he admits with a hint of frustration.

Pearl hums, leaning back slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she continues sipping her tea. "Ah, the elusive chorus," she begins, adding a touch of exaggeration. "The heart and soul of a song. I can see why it's giving you trouble." Leaning in again, her chin propped up on her hands, she adds, "So, what's been holding you back? Can't find the right words to make it pop?"

Grian hums halfheartedly, shaking his head. Pearl's eyes soften as she offers, "I could help, you know? Maybe if you tell me what it's about?"Grian chuckles, feeling a renewed sense of excitement. "Unless your tea-infused wisdom can unlock the secret to a killer chorus, I think I'm stuck for now." 

Pearl playfully rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. My tea is renowned for its magical inspiration properties. It's practically a muse in a cup!" she jokes before growing serious. "But seriously, Grian, I'm more than willing to lend a hand."

Grian gives in with a huff, still unwilling to show his work so far. "It's more like I don't know what it should be about," he groans, fully aware of Pearl's remarkable songwriting talent. It would be a disservice not to at least let her try to help.

"You mind showing me what you've got so far?" she asks, observing Grian's attempt to avoid the question. "Why so secretive?" she presses, her tone teasing.

Grian tries to brush off the question, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. It's a bit embarrassing to have to reveal to your friend the song you wrote about practically stalking them.

"Is it a love song?!" she asks excitedly, her eyes sparkling, making a half-hearted attempt to grab the papers. "About who!?"

Grian instinctively pulls the papers closer to him, almost screeching, "NO! I-I don't... I don't think it is?" He mentally runs through the lyrics, realizing it's not entirely accurate to say it's not a love song. It's an unconventional approach, perhaps. Lost in thought, he fails to notice Pearl impatiently fiddling with her mug.

Pearl raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips. "Oh, come on, Grian. Now you've piqued my curiosity. A mysterious non-love song, huh? You have to let me see it!"

Grian squirms slightly in his seat, torn between his reluctance to share and Pearl's infectious enthusiasm. He takes a deep breath, finally giving in. "Alright, alright. But remember, it's a work in progress, so be gentle with your judgments."

Pearl's eyes light up with anticipation as Grian reluctantly hands over the papers. He catches a glimpse of her scanning the lyrics, her expression shifting from curiosity to amusement just by looking at the title. As Pearl's eyes narrow while she goes through the first verse, Grian conveniently decides to look away, humming different options for the chorus. It's not exactly comfortable to show your friend the song you've written about practically stalking their friendship, but as he said earlier, desperate times call for desperate measures.

He could hear Pearl place the pages on the table, her gaze drilling into his skull, but he conveniently chose to pretend not to notice until she spoke up. "Grian?" she said, amusement evident in her voice.

"Yes, Pearl?" he replied, his voice pitching an octave higher than usual. He could feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

"Metaphysical philosophy?" she choked back a laugh, struggling to hold it in. But it seemed like she was about to burst at any moment.

"Yes," Grian responded with absolute zero confidence, "Referencing my friends who are exactly like you, but aren't you because they met in a metaphysical psychology course," he stammered, feeling the perspiration on his forehead.

"Philosophy course," Pearl corrected, wearing a highly amused expression.

"Philosophy course," Grian aggressively corrected himself, crossing his arms. "Just as it says in the lyrics," he tapped the page, his heart racing with nervousness.

Pearl couldn't contain her laughter any longer; it bubbled over, causing her to clutch her stomach. Grian's face flushed even brighter as he averted his gaze, utterly embarrassed now.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Pearl tried to apologize but couldn't control her laughter. "It's brilliant, I swear!" she managed to say between gasps for air. However, the glare Grian shot her only sent her into another fit of laughter.

Once she was finally able to catch her breath, Pearl composed herself, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "I'm sorry! Truly, I wasn't expecting this. I mean, most people aren't prepared to see a song about them and their best friend, in my defense."

Grian's cheeks burned even brighter, a mix of embarrassment and relief washing over him. "Yeah, well, I didn't plan for it to turn out this way," he muttered, attempting to salvage some dignity.

Pearl's laughter finally subsided, and she reached across the table to gently pat Grian's hand. "I know, Grian. I'm just teasing you. But honestly, it's really cool. Who would have thought that Mumbo and I would be such great inspiration?" She says with a silly accent near the end.

Grian rolled his eyes playfully as Pearl examined his music again. "So, you really have no clue what you want? Maybe explain why you find yourself watching?" she prodded, a certain glimmer in her eye.

"That's the problem. I don't get it. I mean, I want to feel what you have with Mumbo, but I already have that with Scar. I mean, the friendship, of course- ugh!" he groaned, throwing his head back against the seat. "I'm so confused."

"Well... maybe you're not looking for just a friendship," Pearl chimed in, her tone playful. 

Grian raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Pearl's suggestion. "What do you mean? If I'm not looking for a friendship, then what am I looking for?"

Pearl leans back in her seat, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Perhaps you're looking for something more than just friendship. Something that goes beyond metaphysical philosophy and camaraderie. Something that ignites a different kind of spark."

Grian's eyes widen, a mixture of surprise and realization washing over him. "But it doesn't make sense..."

"Sure it does! I mean, you see couples all the flippin’ time. It's not your fault for wanting that connection," Pearl reassured him, her face calculating. "And if you're worried about Mumbo and I, well, we get mistaken for a couple loads of times. I'm not too bothered that you subconsciously thought about it. Plus, Mumbo is as dense as a rock, so he probably wouldn't even notice that the song is based on us anyways."

"But I don't even like anyone," Grian muttered, tapping his pen on the table, scribbling down lines as he pondered. Pearl suddenly choked on her tea, giving him a scrutinizing glare reading ‘Are you serious?’ His cheeks heated up under her gaze. "What?" he asked nervously.

Pearl opened and closed her mouth several times, seemingly debating her next words, until she huffed in resignation. "Well, maybe you'll find yourself falling one day."

Grian's eyes lit up as the words began to flow within him. "Wait, hold that thought!" he exclaimed quickly before jotting down his thoughts in messy handwriting. "What about this?"

-

Look, it's not like Mumbo isn't immensely grateful for his work. He loves what he does—it’s everything he’s ever wanted to do. But sometimes, even the most dedicated individuals need a break. Unfortunately, those opportunities don't always present themselves.

Ever since Mumbo shared Grian's song with the admin, his workload has skyrocketed. Grian remains his main focus, whether it's working on projects, recording sessions, or tending to his every request. Prioritizing Grian has become Mumbo's job, and even if it weren't, he would find a way to make it happen. He's developed quite a soft spot for the man. Yet, when Grian doesn't have anything specific for Mumbo, he's bombarded with a deluge of other tasks—editing music for other musicians (even though he's not their designated recorder), creating trainings for fellow editors and engineers, and attending endless meetings. So. Many. Meetings.

It's a miracle that Mumbo hasn't missed a single deadline. As he yawns in his studio, his headphones firmly in place, he listens to Grian's older music for a mashup he's supposed to create for some streaming service ad. Mumbo can't help but think he would be happier if he were always busy with Grian's music. Unlike with other artists, he never grows tired of Grian's voice. The sweet symphony of his voice is something that should be heard repeatedly, in Mumbo's option. A smile graces his face as he drifts off, as he begins wondering what Grian was like before they met. Scar had been right when describing Grian as a man with perpetual crises and a mischievous gremlin at every turn, yet even Scar's words carried a fondness and Mumbo sees why. Those traits, somehow, were his most endearing. But who was Grian before all of that? Mumbo finds himself yearning to unravel the layers of Grian's history, an unexpected desire considering how rarely he wants to be close to people, especially this close.

Shaking his head, Mumbo tries to refocus, but the grin remains plastered on his face. He can't deny the joy and contentment that Grian's music brings him. It's more than an appreciation for Grian's talent; it's a connection that tugs at Mumbo's heartstrings and ignites a subtle spark within him, although he can't quite pinpoint why. There's something about Grian's presence, his mischievous charm, and his ability to evoke both laughter and comfort that has captivated Mumbo's attention.

In these stolen moments of respite, as Grian's voice fills Mumbo's ears, he allows himself to indulge in fantasies. He envisions a world where their connection extends far beyond music and collaboration. It's a world where Mumbo's admiration evolves into something deeper, where the line between friendship and something more becomes beautifully blurred.

Suddenly, a person materializes beside Mumbo, setting a to-go cup of coffee in front of him. The direction his thoughts were going were effectively halted, which perhaps is a good thing. Startled, Mumbo jumps slightly, only to find Scar by his side, wearing a soft smile of concern. He lowers his headphones to his neck, the faint melody still lingering in the background. "Courtesy of Grian," Scar says, leaning back in his chair.

"Grian?" Mumbo questions, swishing the coffee around in the cup before taking a sip. The taste is a perfect blend of bitterness and sweetness, a telltale sign that Pearl must have been involved.

Scar glances at Mumbo's screen as he responds, "Yep," he confirms with a satisfying pop of the 'p'. "He was worried when I mentioned you've been here all day."

At the mention of Grian's concern, Mumbo's heart skips a beat. A surge of warmth fills him, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Grian's gesture. It may be a simple cup of coffee, but it still makes his stomach flip.

Mumbo smiles gratefully at Scar. "Please tell Grian I said thank you. This is exactly what I needed," he expresses, his voice brimming with genuine gratitude. Taking another sip, he relishes the familiar flavors that remind him of Grian's presence.

Scar nods, a twinkle of knowing in his eyes. "I will, but I have a feeling he already knows. Grian has a way of being there when people need it, even if he isn't aware of it himself." Scar's words ignite a sense of curiosity and delight in Mumbo's heart.

"What do you mean?" Mumbo inquires, his voice laced with intrigue.

Leaning back in his chair, Scar locks eyes with Mumbo. "Grian has a unique perception. He sees beyond the surface and has a deep understanding of people. It's reflected in his music, which is why he's become so popular." Scar pauses, contemplating something before continuing, "I believe he sees something in you, Mumbo, something that draws him to you."

Mumbo furrows his eyebrows, lost in thought as possibilities race through his mind. He takes a moment to absorb Scar's words, realizing the implication that the connection he shares with Grian may hold more significance than he initially thought.

"I don't think so," Mumbo confesses, a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability in his voice. "I'm just... me. There's nothing particularly special about me."

Scar's smile widens, his eyes shimmering with warmth. "Oh, my dear friend, don't underestimate yourself. You have a radiant light, a kindness and talent that captures hearts," he declares with a touch of grandiosity. Wrapping an arm around Mumbo's shoulders, he gazes into the metaphorical distance. "Grian sees that light, and it draws him in. You may not realize it, but you hold a special place in his life," Scar affirms honestly, nodding approvingly.

A mix of gratitude, awe, and a newfound sense of self-worth fills Mumbo's heart. But they don't explain why it making his heart race so loudly in his chest. He's both elated and perplexed by the fact that Grian may see something valuable in him—an aspect worth cherishing. It brings him joy, but he can't help but wonder why he never noticed it himself. Usually, he's attuned to such things.

However, his tired brain refuses to delve too deeply into the matter. With another sip of the coffee, a surge of determination washes over him. Whether it's the conversation or the caffeine fueling his resolve, only anyone but Mumbo could easily guess. He turns back to his work, a smile dancing on his lips. The music envelops his ears once more as he faces the man beside him. "Thanks, Scar," he says simply, lifting his cup and taking a swig.

Unbeknownst to Mumbo, he fails to see the messages lighting up Scar's phone, or the response that Scar types back.

Pearl: Grian is on the verge of breaking down. We need Mumbo on board. [18:08]

Pearl: I know that lovably clueless man better than anyone. The way he talks about Grian is anything but normal. We need to plant the seed. [18:08}

Scar: Consider the seed planted, Wingwoman. [18:42]

Pearl: Great work, Wingman. [18:43]

Chapter Text

If there's one thing Pearl is absolutely obsessed with, it's games. She LOVES games. It's as if her love for music and her shop pales in comparison to her unwavering passion for all things dice and cards. Mumbo can still vividly recall the image of Pearl's cramped dorm closet, overflowing with stacks upon stacks of board games and decks of cards, claiming every inch of space that should have been reserved for clothes or textbooks. But despite the lack of room for anything else, Pearl never seemed bothered. In fact, she could miraculously produce a box for their weekly game nights at university, as if by magic.

However, as life progressed and the demands of adulthood crept in, their once-cherished game nights became increasingly elusive and fickle. The members of their university group had grown busier with their personal lives, leaving little time for the friendly competition that had brought them together.

Sure, Pearl had managed to make friends with her customers and Mumbo's former colleagues, but they were never quite close enough to warrant scheduling a proper game night. And Pearl, in her passionate and slightly dramatic fashion, would often lament that playing games with just the two of them was "lame." So, when Grian and Scar started making regular visits to the cafe, Pearl saw a golden opportunity and seized it.

She practically begged Mumbo to invite them over for a game night, fervently pleading her case for the next time they were all working together. Thankfully, such occasions were not uncommon, even if they were often busy doing their respective jobs, as fate seemed to align their schedules more often than not. As if answering Pearl's heartfelt pleas, the universe granted her a blessing in the form of a recording session between the three of them, conveniently scheduled for Friday.

Pearl's excitement bubbled to the surface as she caught a glimpse of Mumbo's calendar, her eyes instantly locking onto the scheduled recording session. The mere thought of the upcoming game night sent her mind racing with ideas for a plethora of games to enjoy with her friends. Mumbo, ever supportive, indulged her infectious enthusiasm, nodding along and agreeing to whatever board game rant she embarked upon. Meanwhile, as he perused the details of the recording session, he stumbled upon the song title, "People Watching" that had somehow eluded his ears until now. A bittersweet pang of regret coursed through him, realizing that Grian had created the song right under his nose… Maybe if he wasn’t so busy…

Pearl practically pleaded with Mumbo to be the one to inform Grian and Scar about the eagerly anticipated game night, claiming she was too overwhelmed with excitement to handle it herself. So, he did her dirty work with a somewhat begrudging sigh. Mumbo took on the task, reaching out to the duo and asked about their preferences. To his relief, their responses implied that they were both onboard for the game night. However, since that exchange, Mumbo had barely had a chance to talk to either of them, their interactions reduced to mere waves during meetings or brief hallway chats about their whereabouts. It was strange, but he couldn't deny that he missed them—especially Grian. Yet, he swiftly reminded himself that their relationship was confined to the realm of work, and he shouldn't harbor any false hopes or expectations for anything more than that.

As Friday drew nearer, Mumbo could see Pearl slipping into overdrive, fervently preparing for the upcoming game night. He was virtually present on every FaceTime call as she lovingly dusted off her cherished board and card games, ensuring that each one was complete and ready for play. She regaled him with tales of her visits to local game stores, eagerly adding new additions to her collection, which he teasingly referred to as an addiction, while she passionately defended it as a hobby. Despite his occasional complaints, he found Pearl's unwavering enthusiasm endearing and couldn't help but feel happy to see her so ecstatic about spending time with their friends. While his personal affinity for games might not match hers, he recognized the significance they held to Pearl and was more than willing to support her in any way he could.

And then, there they were that fateful Friday evening, right after the recording session, during which Grian, as expected, delivered a stunning performance. A smile danced across Mumbo's face as Pearl was practically bouncing with anticipation, setting up the games on a nearby table just beyond the café's entrance. She had painstakingly arranged an assortment of snacks and drinks, ensuring that everything was absolutely perfect for the night. Grian and Scar's eyes mirrored her excitement, their faces lighting up as they took in the array of games and treats. Unable to contain her excitement any longer, Pearl all but dragged Grian and Scar over to the game table. Mumbo chuckled affectionately at her eagerness, promptly joining the group as they huddled around the table.

"Alright, everyone, let's kick off this game night!" Pearl exclaimed, her eyes brimming with anticipation. She proceeded to explain the rules of the first game they would play, and everyone eagerly settled into their seats around the elongated table. Mumbo consciously chose to ignore the flutter in his chest upon noticing Grian's subtle excitement at his decision to sit beside him.

With Pearl's infectious energy leading the way, the group dove headfirst into the first game, their enthusiasm overflowing. Mumbo found himself effortlessly caught up in the spirited atmosphere, his initial reservations fading away. The harmonious sounds of laughter and friendly banter filled the air as they played, with Pearl's fervor propelling the joy of the evening. Mumbo couldn't help but notice the way Grian's eyes sparkled with amusement and how his laughter added a warm glow to the room. It felt good to have him there, sharing in this moment. As the game progressed, Mumbo and Grian engaged in a lighthearted yet fierce competition, exchanging teasing remarks and strategic maneuvers. By the end of the night, amidst the haze of laughter, the concept of winning had become a blur, as nobody seemed to care anymore, too loopy to even understand what was going on.

Perhaps the lack of collective brain cells was the driving force behind Pearl's decision to end the night with a card game. She had mentioned it to Mumbo earlier that week, referring to it as "icebreakers on steroids," but apart from that, it was entirely new to them. As she pulled out the cards, an idea seemed to strike her, causing her face to light up with mischievous glee. She leaned in and whispered something to Scar, who mirrored her expression with a playful twinkle in his eye. With an ungraceful drag of her chair and giggles escaping her lips, Pearl abruptly announced, "Hey, I forgot I wanted to show Scar something," casting a quick glance in his direction as he nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, yes, I remember that!" Scar beamed, already moving away from the table. Grian and Mumbo exchanged suspicious glances until Grian relented.

Yawning and stretching, he inquired, "You want us to wait for you or-"

"NO!" Pearl interjected, thrusting the game into Mumbo's arms, which he caught rather ungracefully. She chuckled before clearing her throat, "Sorry, I mean... no. You two go ahead! We'll join in if we come back on time." She waved dismissively before making her way toward the back, adding, "It's easy—just choose a card and answer the questions! There are three levels, so once you answer one, keep going!" Her voice trailed off as she disappeared with Scar.

Grian glanced at Mumbo, a mixture of confusion and amusement on his face. Mumbo, equally perplexed by their friends' antics, chuckled in bewilderment before shrugging and extending the cards toward Grian. "Well then," he said, his awkwardly affectionate grin masking his perplexity, "Wanna play?"

Grian snickered, taking his time in a teasing manner before finally selecting a card. Mumbo rolled his eyes playfully in response. "Grian," he scolded, but his scolding was met with Grian's infectious laughter.

"Okay, okay," Grian giggled, revealing a randomly chosen card, "What's something simple that makes you happy?"

Mumbo chuckled and placed the deck down, pondering the question for a moment. “Something that makes me happy? I’m afraid mine is a bit boring, actually." he admitted, catching Grian's curious gaze. "Metronomes."

Grian's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Metronomes?" he playfully taunted, unable to contain his laughter. "Oh my god, you're such a nerd."

Mumbo flushed slightly but quickly adopted a defensive stance, a playful glint in his eyes even though he felt a hint of embarrassment. "What? Metronomes are the foundation of music, and I believe they deserve to be appreciated!" This only elicited more laughter from Grian, a sound that resonated warmly within Mumbo's heart. If he had the chance to change his answer, he would have said that Grian's laughter in a heartbeat. But instead, he blushed deeper before turning the tables on Grian. "Alright then, what's your thing, huh?" he pointed out, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Grian's laughter subsided, and he answered effortlessly, "Oh, this one's easy," teasingly leaning back in his chair. "I love watching absolute garbage movies. I think they represent the true pinnacle of entertainment in our modern world—just turn off your brain and enjoy the trash fire!"

Mumbo chuckled at that, his eyebrow raising in playful skepticism. "There's no way you genuinely enjoy those," he accused, his curiosity piqued.

Grian raised his hands in mock surrender, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I swear, Mumbo! They're so bad that they're good. You have to experience it to understand!" Grian's eyes lit up with excitement as he leaned forward, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "How about a movie night one day? I'll provide the popcorn, and you bring your sparkling sense of humor."

Mumbo couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes at Grian's proposition. It was a simple suggestion, but it caused his heart to skip a beat. "So, you want me to subject myself to those cinematic disasters?" he teased, his fondness for Grian shining through.

"Yes," Grian replied a little too enthusiastically, before reining himself in with a nervous chuckle. "I mean, who cares what you're watching, though? It's who you're watching with that counts," he added, his eyes darting to the cards as he hurriedly grabbed a handful. "And now I want you to subject yourself to picking a card. Go on," he urged, almost rushing through the conversation.

Mumbo, feeling the weight of tiredness, simply followed Grian's instructions and selected a card. He chuckled softly to himself as he read it aloud, "What is your way of showing love? What about receiving love? Jeez, Pearl, what are these questions?" he mused before shooting an expectant glance at Grian. "Well?"

Grian's smile softened as he pondered Mumbo's question, his eyes filled with warmth. "Showing love... I think for me, it's through acts of service. You know, simple things like picking up your clothes or cleaning up your messes, y’know?" he explained.

Mumbo chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, so you're the secret knight in shining armor, ready to rescue me with your acts of service?"

Grian shrugged, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe I am. But don't worry, I won't wear the armor unless you're into that sort of thing."

Mumbo laughed, unable to conceal the blush tinting his cheeks. "Noted. No armor, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Grian chuckled sleepily, his voice growing softer. "Or, now that I think about it, maybe it's just sharing things. I don't get much to myself, so sharing something feels more personal," he admitted. His gaze softened, and he continued more seriously, "And as for receiving love, I'm a physical touch kind of guy. And that's all I gotta say about that." He turned to Mumbo, his cheeks slightly flushed. "What about yourself, Mr. Jumbo-lio?"

Mumbo's smile remained, a mixture of weariness and fondness. He took a moment to reflect, his eyes meeting Grian's. "Hmm, for showing love, I think it's through quality time and small gestures of gift-giving. I may not always be the most vocal about my feelings, but I try to express my affection through those little things," he confessed, his voice softening. "And as for receiving love, I'm a big fan of quality time too. Just being with someone, enjoying their company, and feeling that connection means a lot to me." Mumbo's breath caught in his throat as Grian's eyes lingered on his face. "So yeah," he trailed off before grabbing the last set of cards. "Last one," he said, waving the cards in front of Grian, inviting him to continue the game.

Grian appeared to snap out of his thoughts, automatically reaching for another card. "What would your ten-year-old self think of you now?" he read aloud, his gaze fixed on the card for a few moments before looking up at Mumbo. His face seemed more drained than before.

"Oh, wow," Mumbo breathed, tapping his hands nervously on the table.

"You don't have to answer that," Grian hurriedly interjected, but Mumbo raised his hand.

"No, no, it's fine! I just haven't thought about it," he reassured Grian before searching for the right words. "My younger self would probably be extremely confused about what I do for a living," he chuckled, envisioning the ambitious expectations he had as a child to become the next CEO of some business. "He would also get on my case about not being super famous and rich yet, but I think he'd get over it when he finds out I have friends," Mumbo said fondly, reflecting on the scarcity of friendships during his upbringing. Little Mumbo would have been more than thrilled to have friends like Pearl, Scar, or especially Grian. "And what about little Grian? I bet he'd be over the moon."

Grian hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I... I don't know. I mean, he'd be happy that we didn't fail to meet expectations, I guess," he said with a sigh. Grian noticed Mumbo's confused expression and continued, "To keep a long story short, my entire life, I was raised to be something great. My whole existence revolved around trying to prove myself to people who, in the end, couldn't care less about what actually happened." He dragged his hand across the table, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "I guess... I don't know if he'd be proud that I'm still pursuing it, or well, barely escaping from it, thanks to a certain someone."

Grian looked at Mumbo with gratitude, and Mumbo felt captivated by his warm gaze. However, Grian chose to change the mood, diverting their attention. "But honestly, he'd be right pissed at me for never having been to a playpark."

This statement caught Mumbo off guard, and he laughed incredulously. "Excuse me? What?"

"I'm serious!" Grian insisted, suddenly defensive, joining in Mumbo's laughter. Whether it was the lack of brain cells in his loopy mind or something else, an idea popped into Mumbo’s mind, and a smile broke across his face as he suddenly stood up from his chair.

-

"Come on," Mumbo said suddenly, his voice filled with excitement as he stood up from his chair and headed towards the door, checking outside as if searching for something.

Grian's face broke out into a confused yet intrigued grin, his curiosity always got the better of him. He followed Mumbo, huddling by the door and scanning the surroundings to see what had caught Mumbo's attention. "What are you doing?" he chuckled, trying to catch a glimpse of what Mumbo was looking for.

"All clear," Mumbo declared, grabbing Grian's hand and pulling him outside. "Come on, trust me."

Grian practically squawked in surprise as he was yanked out the door, quickly running behind Mumbo. His eyes darted around, searching for any potential threats or onlookers who might jeopardize his hiding spot or reveal his recent whereabouts. Failing to cover his face with his sweater due to the abruptness of the situation, Grian grew slightly anxious. However, as he surveyed the area, he realized that there was no one around at this hour. The reassuring glance Mumbo sent his way eased his worries, and he continued to follow the taller man with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

"Where are we going?" Grian chuckled curiously as Mumbo led him down an unfamiliar alley and onto a road he had never been on before. Mumbo remained silent but quickened his pace as they turned another corner. Suddenly, he came to a halt, causing Grian to crash into him.

"Ack! Mumbo!" Grian exclaimed, slightly disoriented from the sudden stop. He looked up to see what had caused Mumbo to pause, and his eyes widened in surprise. In front of them, nestled in the middle of a vast grass field, was a playpark. It appeared eerie in the darkness, with only a few dimly lit street lamps casting long shadows across the play area. It seemed almost surreal, as if it had appeared out of nowhere, its short stone wall surrounding it to contain the mulch. The playpark was relatively small, with two slides side by side and various ways to climb up to them, including a jagged staircase. To the left, a row of four swing sets swayed slightly in the gentle wind.

Grian didn't even realize his legs were moving until he found himself standing at the short stone wall, guided by Mumbo towards a pair of empty swings. As Mumbo's hand slipped from his, Grian instinctively reached out for that touch, albeit briefly, Mumbo took a seat on one of the swings. He patted the empty swing beside him, extending an invitation for Grian to join.

Grian hesitated for a moment, his gaze locked with Mumbo's, feeling an unspoken emotion. Unable to resist any longer, he slowly settled onto the swing, his eyes never leaving Mumbo's face until he sat down. As they swayed gently back and forth, their feet skimming the ground, a serene stillness enveloped them. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet moment.

The silence between them was comfortable, the absence of words speaking volumes. Grian didn't notice how Mumbo's gaze lingered on him, witnessing the softening of his expression and the calm that settled over him. Bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight, Grian seemed almost otherworldly, captivating Mumbo without him even realizing it.

Breaking the tranquility, Mumbo's voice broke through, barely above a whisper. "Hey, would you mind if I asked that question now?"

Grian turned towards Mumbo, his head tilting slightly in curiosity, momentarily forgetting what Mumbo was referring to. But then, the memory from ages ago resurfaced in Grian's mind, and he chuckled, swinging a bit higher on the swing. "Oh man, I completely forgot about that."

"I don't break promises," Mumbo chuckled in response, the rhythmic creaking of Grian's swinging filling the space between them.

Grian's laughter continued to fill the air as he gained some height on the swing, his anticipation growing. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Shoot."

Mumbo hesitated for a moment, his question hanging in the air. "What happened to the other engineers? Or recording staff or whatever?" He mumbled near the end.

Ah. He didn’t expect that to be the question. Grian's smile faded slightly, his gaze shifting to the ground as memories resurfaced. The swing slowed down, mirroring the weight of his thoughts. He took a deep breath, gathering his emotions before responding.

"Well," Grian began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and regret. "I mean, some of them moved on to different projects or pursued other opportunities. But... most of them left because of me."

Confusion and curiosity flickered in Mumbo's eyes as he furrowed his brows. He remained silent, allowing Grian to continue.

Grian's grip on the swing tightened, his struggle to find the right words evident. "I- I've always found it difficult to connect with new people. Opening up, trusting them completely—it's a challenge for me. I've built walls around myself, and sometimes those walls push people away. Cut people out like tags, you know?" He let out a bitter laugh, referencing their earlier recording session, which now felt like a distant memory.

His voice quivered, revealing a vulnerability breaking through his usually confident demeanor. The swing set, once a symbol of carefree playfulness, now served as a backdrop for Grian's inner turmoil.

"You know, Mumbo," Grian began, meeting Mumbo's gaze with a mix of vulnerability and acceptance. "I've come to realize that eventually, everyone leaves. People enter our lives, and for a while, it feels like they'll always be there. But then, circumstances change, priorities shift, and they move on. It's something I've grown accustomed to. Out of the countless people I've crossed paths with, Scar and the guys are the only ones who have stuck around, for some insane reason." He laughed, his thoughts drifting back to his friends who after everything still feel Grian is someone worth sticking around.

Grian's words hung in the air, their weight palpable with his self-awareness. Mumbo listened intently, his eyes reflecting empathy and understanding. The swings continued their gentle sway, their creaking serving as a somber soundtrack to Grian's admission.

After a few moments, Mumbo's voice broke the serene silence once again. "Well, if it helps, I have no intentions of leaving," he said, his gaze fixed on the night sky, genuine warmth infusing his words as his eyes reflected the twinkingling stars. "I wouldn't mind sticking around, if you'd let me."

Grian's gaze locked on Mumbo in that moment. Mumbo looked breathtakingly beautiful, his words spoken without hesitation. A rush of heat flushed Grian's cheeks, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. His heart swelled, warmth spreading through his body, as he realized the depth of Mumbo's sincerity. Why…

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the sound of Mumbo's phone ringing. Seven notes of a violin pierced through the silence, causing Mumbo to jump ever so slightly in surprise. He grabbed his phone and nonchalantly put the caller on speaker.

"Hey, Pearl," Mumbo greeted, but before Pearl could respond, she let out a squawk, followed by sounds of struggle and rustling on the other end of the line. Before either of them could inquire about her well-being, another voice erupted from the phone.

"MUMBO, WHERE IS GRIAN?" Scar's voice boomed through the speaker, causing both Mumbo and Grian to wince at the sudden change in volume.

Grian leaned closer to the phone, his head ducked apologetically, even though Scar couldn't see him. "I'm here, Scar," he chimed in, his tone contrite. Scar launched into a torrent of worried admonishments, reprimanding Grian like a concerned parent. He scolded Grian for not informing him of his whereabouts, warned about the potential dangers of disappearing, expressed his relief that nothing bad had happened, and reminded him to not keep his phone on silent and answer the damn thing. Grian exchanged an amused glance with Mumbo, and soon they both succumbed to sleepy giggles, unable to contain their laughter. Scar's frustration mounted as he demanded to know their exact location.

Eventually, Mumbo managed to reconnect to Pearl to relay the park they were at. Two cars pulled into the nearby parking lot, one of them honking aggressively, their headlights illuminating the area. Grian and Mumbo reluctantly made their way back, though it required some persuasion on Mumbo's part to coax Grian anywhere near the car, especially one with an irate Scar inside.

"Goodnight," Grian chuckled before opening the car door.

Mumbo smiled at him, waving him off. "Night, G."

As soon as the door closed, Grian became the recipient of the longest scolding he had ever received from Scar. However, he couldn't help but smile as he glanced out the window, watching Mumbo and Pearl's car pull away and disappear into the night.

Chapter Text

Grian has been in a bit of a fix lately.

It’s not like anything is wrong, his life has actually been soaring on a high note lately. Filled with promising opportunities and exciting developments. The anticipation surrounding the release of "People Watching" as a single had ignited a wave of enthusiasm among those fortunate enough to have heard it and the album was shaping up to be a masterpiece. Grian couldn't help but feel grateful for the overwhelming love and support from fans and team. Reentering the limelight meant engaging with the media, attending interviews, photoshoots, and connecting with adoring fans, all of which had been incredibly fulfilling so far.

Everything seemed to fall into place flawlessly, each experience woven together seamlessly like the harmonies in a song… So why did he feel like he was missing something?

Grian couldn't shake a lingering sense of unease. There was an elusive piece of the puzzle missing, a faint whisper of something he couldn't quite grasp. It was like walking into a room and forgetting the reason for entering in the first place. The answer to his restlessness seemed just beyond his reach, teasing him relentlessly. He swears the answer is right in front of him!

Fate, it seemed, had a way of presenting its enigmatic riddles when least expected. In a twist of irony, Mumbo materialized right before Grian's eyes, their collision surprising the two of them as Grian rounded a corner too quickly. His heart thumped in his chest as he found himself face to face with Mumbo, their eyes locking in a mesmerizing gaze. An electric current surged through Grian's veins, an intoxicating blend of emotions pulsating through his core. The intensity of the moment left him breathless, struggling to decipher the complex tapestry of feelings that flooded his senses. With a sheepish smile, Grian regained his composure, though the remnants of their encounter still danced in his mind. "Uh, sorry about that, Mumbo. I didn't see you there." he stammered, his voice betraying a lingering thrill.

Mumbo responded with a playful chuckle, straightening out his suit, "No worries, Grian. I, too, should have watched where I was going.” He said with a laugh, “But a little collision never hurt anyone, right?"

Grian nodded, but the whirlwind of electricity within him refused to settle. He can’t explain why he was feeling this way, though the brewing connection was obvious. Yet, Grian dared not delve into its depths just yet, brushing the lingering feeling away. He dismissed his thoughts and decided on conversation instead, hoping to distract himself from the tempest of emotions raging beneath his surface. "So, what brings you here? Are you headed somewhere?" he asked, mustering a casual tone.

Mumbo’s shrug was effortless, "Just another meeting, unfortunately. Something to do with equipment this time…" His voice trailed off, the words fading into the recesses of Grian's consciousness. But Grian barely registered Mumbo's response; his mind was preoccupied with… well him.

Grian couldn't help but become captivated by every detail of Mumbo's being. He found himself studying Mumbo's features, like the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled or the sound of his infectious laughter. Even the seemingly mundane gestures, like how Mumbo rubbed his hands together when he was particularly peeved about, held a certain fascination for Grian. There was an undeniable warmth that radiated from Mumbo, drawing Grian in like a magnet. He felt an inexplicable longing to spend more time with him, it didn’t matter where.

As Grian's thoughts became consumed by Mumbo, the inexplicable energy he had been experiencing resurfaced with newfound intensity. It puzzled him. It was a peculiar sensation, difficult to articulate and difficult to pinpoint its origin. Weird... However, his musings were swiftly interrupted by the sound of Mumbo's laughter, effortlessly reeling Grian back into him, the melody of Mumbo's amusement filling his ears once more.

Lost in his own world, Grian snapped back to reality as Mumbo playfully waved a hand in front of his face, a mischievous smirk gracing his lips. The flush of embarrassment colored Grian's cheeks as he realized he had been drifting off into his own thoughts.

Chuckling nervously, Grian attempted to regain his composure. "Sorry about that. My mind tends to wander sometimes."

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. "Wandering, huh? Care to share where?"

Grian hesitated, his heart fluttering in his chest. "Ah, nowhere important, just... buzz, you know?" he evaded, choosing to dance around the truth.

Mumbo chuckled, a distant look in his eyes. "Yeah, I get it, mate," he said, understanding lingering in his tone. However, he didn't let the topic drop entirely. Mumbo pressed on, repeating his earlier question, "So, where are you off to? I didn't see anything on the calendar."

A warm smile spread across Grian's face at Mumbo's question. "Oh, it's not an official thing. Scar invited me for a writing session, and you know I can't resist those." Grian couldn't help but notice the slight flicker of emotion on Mumbo's face before it swiftly returned to a carefully crafted neutrality.

He felt his eyebrows furrow in concern when Mumbo moved across him, “Ah! Well have fun G! I’m sure you’ll write something as amazing as always.” He waved before going up towards the meeting room.

His concern for Mumbo deepened as he watched him move away. Something felt off, and Grian couldn't shake the intuition that there was more to Mumbo's reaction than met the eye. Awkwardly standing there, Grian's heart tightened with worry as Mumbo went out of view. His mind drifts to Scar mentioning something about Mumbo being overworked… He knew he needed to discuss Mumbo's schedule with the admin, as there was definitely something amiss. He debated whether to follow Mumbo or give him some space, but a timely message from Scar convinced him to let it go for the day and quickly shoot an email to the admin regarding Mumbo's schedule.

He failed to contain the smile that crept onto his face, uncontainable excitement seeping through. The prospect of spending more time with his engineer, if the schedule allowed for it, filled Grian's heart with joy.

-

The inside of a writer’s room is about what you would expect. Plush seating and couches lined the walls, while a central table stood adorned with a writer's laptop and a blank document. Smaller tables sat adjacent to the seats, a particular section featuring computers, a rack, microphone, and headphones. Soundproofing materials adorned the walls, ensuring a distraction-free environment (for both the inside and out). Amidst the creative chaos, an overly theatrical assistant bustled about, and a barista playing the violin appeared on FaceTime. And, of course, there was Grian, attempting to perfect his paper ball toss into the trash can across the room.

"Grian. If you're going to avoid writing, could you at least not decimate an entire forest in the process?" Scar remarked sarcastically, sighing when Grian's latest paper ball missed its target.

"I swear, I can make it," Grian insisted, yet another wad of paper in hand, aiming for the bin. However, his attempt was intercepted by Scar, who playfully threw the ball back at him.

"Bad Grian," Scar scolded in a playful tone, wagging his finger. Grian chuckled and finally gave up on his futile quest for a successful shot, instead joining Scar on the couch. A gentle scolding from Pearl about wasting paper filled the room, albeit at a low volume.

"Alright, I'll stop," Grian responded, a mischievous grin on his face. "But honestly, Scar, the inspiration just isn't striking me today," he admitted, shifting his gaze toward the ceiling.

A notification chimed on Grian's phone, and his face instantly brightened as he recognized the sender. It was a text from Mumbo, asking about Grian's writer's block and that it might be less painful than the meeting Mumbo was currently enduring. Grian chuckled and swiftly replied, suggesting that anything was better than being trapped in one of those admin meetings. (Grian may be late for a lot of things, but he makes sure he’s purposely late for those.) A swift response from Mumbo appeared, but before Grian could read it, the sound of Pearl's violin filled the air, playing a familiar tune.

It was the same melody, the seven notes he had heard from Mumbo's phone that night. Grian's procrastination and curiosity waged a battle within him, and he turned to Pearl, shooting her a curious glance through the camera. "What's that?" he asked, pointing toward the violin.

Pearl paused, a touch perplexed. "What do you mean?" she inquired, tilting her head.

"That!" Grian exclaimed, gesturing toward the instrument. Then realizing that wasn't very helpful, he clarified, "I mean the notes. I heard them when I was with Mumbo."

Recognition dawned on Pearl's face. "Ah, right. I forgot he did that," she replied, a nostalgic twinkle in her eyes. "Well, it's sort of my good luck charm, you could say. I play it before warmups or practice. I don't know, I just like it," she explained nonchalantly.

Grian felt a spark of curiosity ignite within him. "Could you play it again?" he asked, his focus shifting to a piece of paper in front of him.

Pearl easily obliged, gracefully playing the melody once more. Grian took the opportunity to jot down the notes—F, D, A#, F, G, D. "Was that last one a C?" Grian inquired, his attention still fixed on his paper.

Pearl hummed in agreement as she continued with her scales. Grian transferred the notes into his computer and then redirected his attention back to his ongoing message thread with Mumbo. He sent Mumbo a picture of the paper ball graveyard, accompanied by the text "My progress:"

He didn't even notice his wide grin or how fast he was typing, but Scar did, rolling his eyes and pretending to gag at Pearl, who giggled in response while continuing her warmups. They remained in this playful atmosphere until Scar grew tired of Grian's evasiveness.

"So... are you going to make me ask what's wrong with you today, or...?" Scar raised a suspicious eyebrow, his tone laced with curiosity.

Grian blushed and averted his gaze. "Absolutely nothing," he teased, attempting to deflect the question, but his attempt was met with a disbelieving glare from Scar. "...I'm just... in a bit of a fix, for some reason," he finally admitted, his guard dropping as he succumbed to Scar's persistent gaze.

"Oh?" Scar replied with a hint of cockiness, before adopting a more friendly stance. "I'm just playing. What's bothering you?"

Rolling his eyes, Grian playfully nudged Scar with his elbow. "Nothing's wrong per se... I don't know, I just can't seem to focus. My mind is constantly racing, but not with song lyrics or anything like that—just racing thoughts. And I've been feeling unusually excited at random times. There's this energy surrounding me, and my mind keeps coming back to the same thing..." Grian deliberately omitted mentioning that Mumbo was the subject of his preoccupation.

Pearl paused her playing, looking directly at the phone camera. "Sounds like you're in love, bud," she casually remarked before resuming her melody.

Grian's face erupted in flames. In love? Him? No way! He chuckled sarcastically. "Ha ha, very funny. It's just a phase," he reasoned, only to see Scar scratching his head and looking away.

"I don't know, G... Pearl might have a point," Scar said, emphasizing the last words.

Grian laughed, convinced they were playing a joke on him. "Guys, come off it."

Scar gazed at him earnestly. "No, dude, seriously! Let me ask you this: Have you felt your heartstrings being pulled? Does the mere mention of someone's name make your heart feel warm and fuzzy? Do your thoughts keep circling back to them?" Scar posed the questions theatrically, as if he already knew the answers.

Grian scoffed, finding the idea ridiculous. "No," he lied, earning a skeptical glare from both Scar and Pearl. He faltered and then defended himself, "And who said this was about someone? I never said it was about a person!"

"Is it about a person?" Scar asked solemnly, his eyes fixed on Grian. Grian's cheeks grew even warmer, and his silence spoke volumes. Scar continued, "Look... let's say, hypothetically," he raised his hand to ward off any defensive response from Grian, "you were in love. Would that be such a bad thing?" Scar's genuine question hung in the air.

Grian paused, contemplating his words carefully before answering. "Okay, if I did, hypothetically, like someone, it would be a terrible thing. I'm always busy with work, and I'm kind of a mess, and I've never even dated anyone, so I'd be a rubbish partner. Do you want me to keep going?" He said, counting off his problems on his fingers.

"Yeah, he's smitten," Pearl remarked casually, her violin's music filling the room through the phone speakers. "No one thinks about how bad of a partner they'd be unless they have someone in mind."

"Pearl!" Grian squawked loudly, attracting the attention of someone passing by the door. Flushed with embarrassment, he lowered his voice. "Pearl!"

Scar couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, Grian. You've got it bad."

Grian groaned in anguish, feeling increasingly trapped. "I'm not falling for anyone, Scar. It's just... a brief curiosity, if anything," he insisted, his voice laced with uncertainty. He couldn't help but let his mind wander. Even if he did HYPOTHETICALLY like Mumbo, which he doesn’t, obviously, that’s what makes it hypothetical. What would Mumbo even say? Would he even take him seriously? Grian hadn't exactly positioned himself as someone who should be taken seriously.

He’s obviously just wondering, but if he were to, hypothetically, accept his hypothetical feelings for Mumbo… would it be one sided…?

Scar continued teasingly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't you picture it? The chemistry between you two?" he prodded, wiggling his fingers under his chin.

Grian scoffed, finding the idea preposterous. He and Mumbo? A thing? That's hilarious! The notion of the two having any chemistry is ridiculous! His words were laced with denial. "Yeah, sure, Scar. Mumbo and I aren't a thing, and I'm not trying to make it one. Don't even imply such a thing," he retorted, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. Pearl hit a wrong note on her violin.

Suddenly, Scar conceded, putting his hands up in surrender. "Right, I apologize," he relented, before turning his attention back to his phone.

Grian faltered at Scar's sudden change of heart, unsure how to respond. “Er- right. Well… yeah.”

He returned his focus to his computer, his mind still wrestling with the implications of their conversation. The room fell into silence, Grian keeping a watchful eye on Scar while Pearl continued playing her violin. But Grian knew it couldn’t be that easy, Scar doesn’t simply give up. That was confirmed when Scar's face slowly transformed into an evil smirk, and he casually muttered, "But no one even mentioned Mumbo."

Grian's face erupted in flames yet again, his eyes widening in disbelief. He turned to Scar, his voice filled with both apprehension and betrayal. "Wait, what? What are you trying to imply now?"

Scar chuckled mischievously, thoroughly enjoying Grian's reaction. "Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I just found it amusing how quickly you jumped to the conclusion that we were talking about Mumbo. But hey, if that's where your mind went, who am I to argue?"

Grian's blush deepened, a mixture of embarrassment and realization washing over him. He couldn't believe he had said anything. He’s not sure how, but it had all been Scar's doing. "I... I didn't mean... I mean, it's not like I have feelings for Mumbo or anything. It was just a random example."

Pearl couldn't contain her laughter and joined Scar in teasing Grian. "Sure, sure, Grian. We believe you. Just a random example. Nothing more, nothing less."

Grian groaned in exasperation, feeling cornered. He had unintentionally revealed more than he had intended, and his friends were not going to let him live it down. With a defeated sigh, he finally admitted, "Okay, okay, maybe I was thinking about Mumbo. But it doesn't mean anything! It's just... curiosity, like I said."

Scar raised an eyebrow, the mischievous knowing smirk still playing on his lips. "Curiosity, huh? Well, sometimes curiosity can lead to some interesting discoveries."

Crossing his arms and pouting, Grian felt his curiosity getting the better of him despite his attempt to dismiss the topic. "You're relentless. Can we please drop this whole hypothetical love thing already?"

Scar relented, putting his hands up and focusing back on his own work. "Alright, alright, we'll stop teasing you." He paused for a brief moment, Grian already knowing it was too good to be true… Scar never gives up that easily. "But you know, Grian, sometimes these things aren't as hypothetical as we make them out to be."

Grian's eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued despite his attempt to dismiss the topic (he doesn’t want to talk about this..) "What do you mean?"

Scar leaned back in his chair, wearing a thoughtful expression. "Well, hypothetically speaking, of course, but sometimes when we deny our feelings, it's because we're afraid of the unknown. Afraid of being vulnerable, of taking risks. But deep down, there might be something real, something worth exploring.”

Pearl nodded in agreement, drawing closer to the screen. "And who knows, it could probably make for a pretty killer love song... Hypothetically, of course. Everything said here is purely theoretical."

Grian sighed in exasperation, “If this is your guy’s way of making me think about this…” He hates how his fingers twitch to write down his thoughts on his blank document, the equivalent of an itch needing to be scratched. “I’ll have you know… it isn’t working.” he lied, his focus shifting back to the blank document on his computer screen.

I mean it would hurt. It’s purely hypothetical anyways.

…

Right?

Chapter Text

Grian finished the song. It took a couple days but he finished it.

Grian stared at the completed song on his screen, but a sense of disappointment weighed heavily on him as he gazed at the finished composition on his screen. From the moment he started writing, he had hoped for an opportunity to spend more time with Mumbo, noticing that his presence seemed to ignite his creativity.

Yet, fate seemed determined to thwart his desires. Whenever Grian tried to seek out moments with Mumbo, it felt as if he was always a step behind, missing him by a mere second. Their encounters remained brief and superficial, confined to hurried conversations in the hallways of the studio building. Grian yearned for more meaningful interactions, but it was as if he was chasing a specter, forever out of reach. It felt strangely empty not seeing Mumbo around.

To make matters worse, Pearl and Scar seemed to relish in teasing him, their mischievous comments only amplifying Grian's frustration. They delighted in poking fun at his hidden desires, playfully reminding him of his hypothetical infatuation with Mumbo. Embarrassment would wash over Grian's face whenever Scar caught him stealing glances at Mumbo or becoming lost in thought during their brief exchanges. Their sly remarks about his apparent fascination only fueled the fire, even though it was they who planted those silly notions in his mind.

So, he was genuinely thrilled that they were recording together today. With any luck, he might finally have a chance to spend time with his friends, and perhaps, Scar would leave him be for once. Despite being slightly late and his hair refusing to cooperate (it was a whole thing), Grian managed to make it to the studio.

As he entered, he interrupted a conversation between Scar and Mumbo, their voices fading into the background as Scar greeted him and Mumbo offered a soft smile and a wave. Grian felt a rush of warmth at the sight. He took his rightful place at Mumbo's desk, joining them as they discussed their day and the work they had done over the past week, as well as the plans for the recording session. Grian found the conversation rather mundane and mostly boring, but he eventually made his way to the booth that was already set up and waiting. He slipped on the headphones and glanced through the glass, where Scar sent him a playful wink that Grian couldn't help but roll his eyes at.

"Ready, Gri?" Mumbo's voice resonated through the microphone as he looked up at Grian in the booth. Grian responded with a thumbs-up, though his nerves were unusually heightened today, causing his heart to race faster than usual. He couldn't recall feeling this jittery since his early days in the recording booth. The anticipation weighed heavily on him as Mumbo clicked a few buttons, and then his voice flowed through Grian's headphones, "Okay, in three, two…"

[Hypothetically – John Michael Howell]

Look, this song wasn’t serious. It wasn't meant to be taken seriously, not in the slightest. However, today it carried an unexpected significance, compelling Grian to force himself to focus on the microphone and resist any distractions. Perhaps he felt slightly self-conscious about using a metronome at the beginning, but it was all in good fun. Mumbo had mentioned liking them, and in the end, he would be the one listening to this track. There was no deeper reason behind Grian's antics—just his penchant for silliness.

Yet, there was an undeniable catchiness to the tune, causing Grian's hands to instinctively tap on his thigh along to the rhythm. He attempted to steal a glance at Mumbo's reaction, but his restricted view only allowed him to see Scar nodding along, which would have to suffice. Grian just had to maintain his focus.

However, the intoxicating rhythm proved to be a double-edged sword. Unbeknownst to him, his mind began to wander, and he easily lost himself in the music. As he sang the first chorus, his gaze involuntarily drifted towards Mumbo, who was intently working the controls for the booth. Grian couldn't help but notice the way Mumbo's eyes shimmered with passion, how his smile illuminated the room, or how their eye contact seemed more fleeting than usual today... Not that it bothered him, of course. Why would it? Grian's voice softened, his gaze unconsciously fixated on the encouraging eyes of Mumbo. A flicker of realization crossed his expression, but he brushed it off, attributing it to the intensity of the moment.

Struggling to regain his composure during the bridge, Grian made a concerted effort to push aside his racing thoughts. He reminded himself to stay focused on the task at hand, to deliver the expected performance. However, his heart had its own agenda, pounding louder and faster, drowning out his attempts to suppress his emotions.

Keeping his thoughts straight became a struggle. The lyrics suddenly felt inadequate, as if they were a feeble excuse or diversion. Yet, up until today, they had felt perfectly natural.

In the midst of the second chorus, Grian's gaze once again gravitated towards Mumbo, his heart yearning for his attention. He longed for Mumbo to acknowledge him, to truly hear him and respond in some way. An overwhelming surge of emotions and desires flooded Grian, leaving him in a state of confusion and vulnerability. It was as if a hurricane of feelings had swept through his heart.

He couldn't quite put a finger on what was happening within him, but Grian knew one thing for certain – something had changed, and he needed to unravel its meaning. His thoughts raced like a runaway train, darting from one memory to another. Laughter, shared adventures, stolen glances – they all resurfaced in his mind, each one connected to a certain someone: Mumbo. The name echoed in his thoughts, resonating like a sweet melody that sent shivers down his spine. But what did it mean? Why did just the mere thought of Mumbo ignite a fire inside him?

Grian's hand instinctively rose to his chest, feeling the erratic rhythm of his pounding heart. He couldn't deny the pull, the undeniable connection he felt whenever they were together. The sparkle in Mumbo's eyes when he laughed, the lingering touch on Grian's skin for a split second longer than necessary. It was as if the universe played a teasing game, intertwining their paths and forcing Grian to question everything he had believed.

A deep sigh escaped Grian's lips as he grappled with his swirling emotions. The fear of rejection and the uncertainty of reciprocation loomed over him like a storm cloud, threatening to consume him. Yet, amidst the tempest, there was a glimmer of something beautiful, something he couldn't ignore.

The world around him seemed to slow as Grian's mind raced, replaying their shared moments, dissecting the subtle glances and gestures that had previously slipped by unnoticed. It all fell into place now. The fluttering butterflies in his stomach, the ache for Mumbo's attention—

Oh.

Oh.

Love.

It was love.

A whirlwind of emotions swept through Grian—excitement, fear, and a sense of being utterly screwed. The weight of his realization flooded his veins, pulsating through every fiber of his being. Shit. He had fallen for his engineer, for his friend, for Mumbo, and the sheer gravity of it hit him like a thunderclap.

Grian's voice quivered, catching the attention of both Scar and Mumbo, as he grappled with the true meaning of the lyrics he was singing. His hands stilled on his thigh, no longer bouncing to the beat. The weight of his newfound understanding pressed upon him, and he struggled to regain his composure. Grian stole a fleeting glance at Mumbo, desperately hoping that his friend hadn't deciphered the hidden message within the song.

In that momentary glance, Grian could discern a mix of concern and confusion in Mumbo's eyes. It was evident that Mumbo sensed something was amiss, yet whether he comprehended the full extent of the lyrics' significance remained uncertain. Grian's heart pounded in his chest, and he fought to regain control over his voice and emotions.

Attempting to salvage the performance, Grian took a deep breath and pushed through the remainder of the song. However, his mind was no longer fully present, and his voice carried the weight of his revelation. The lyrics that had once seemed inconsequential now reverberated with an undeniable depth. And amidst the chaotic thoughts swirling in his head, all he could hear were the words, Shit. Shit. Shit.

As the final verse escaped his lips, Grian could feel his heart threatening to burst from his chest. Any wrong move now, and he feared he would unravel completely. Struggling to control his breathing, he had to—Mumbo would detect every hitch or shaky intake. So, he sat in strained silence, his gaze fixed on the wall behind the microphone, until the last notes faded away.

The moment the music ceased, Grian calmly and swiftly removed his headphones, barely registering Mumbo's voice speaking through them. He silently placed them on the stool in the booth before making his way out, without sparing a second glance for anyone in the room. He maintained a blank expression on his face, although the flush on his cheeks slightly betrayed his true state. Ignoring the calls from Scar and Mumbo, he needed to escape that space. Once outside the studio door, he quickly slipped around the corner.

When he heard the door click shut, Grian leaned against the wall and collapsed to the floor, exhaling an exasperated sigh. He buried his face in his hands, feeling the warmth radiating from it. He repeatedly struck his forehead with his wrists, attempting to convince his brain to shut down these feelings. How could he have allowed this to happen? Why did his brain have to be so foolish? Why? Why? Why? His breaths became erratic and shaky, as he tried to avoid confronting his current defeated state.

Covering his mouth, he strained to remain silent upon hearing the door open. He couldn't handle Mumbo's presence right now, desperately avoiding any noise. But when the sound of familiar tires reached his ears, he eased slightly and released another shaky breath. Scar, he could face. "Grian?" Scar's concerned voice called out, followed by the sound of the door closing behind him.

"Over here," Grian mumbled softly, drawing his knees up and curling into himself.

Scar rounded the corner, his expression a mix of understanding and concern. "You want to tell me what that was all about, bud?" he asked, moving beside Grian and gently nudging him with his wheelchair.

Grian groaned as he looked up at Scar, well aware that Scar likely already knew what was wrong.

"I... I think..." His voice trembled, and his hands shook. Admitting his feelings for Mumbo was challenging enough, but this was the first time he was speaking his emotions aloud to anyone. With a shaky breath, he looked up, feeling defeated and panicked, and met Scar's patient gaze, softened by a gentle smile.

“I think I like Mumbo.”

-

It’s… been a weird day for Mumbo. First, his once-packed calendar suddenly became eerily blank, devoid of any deadlines or commitments. At first, he dismissed it as a simple error, but upon discussing it with the staff, he realized it was intentional. His manager's passive-aggressive response about concerns of overwork only added to the confusion. Mumbo found it odd, considering he hadn't voiced any concerns to the higher-ups.

But he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth so he carried on with his day. However, the sudden absence of projects left him at a loss. He had grown accustomed to constant work in the past few weeks, and now he found himself unsure of what to do with the newfound freedom.

Then, in search of solace and a bit of companionship, Mumbo headed to Pearl's place for lunch. Her surprise at his unexpected appearance was evident, and as she busied herself with serving other customers, she began acting strangely. Teasing him about his recent bout of social reclusion and displaying an unusual enthusiasm for him to listen to Grian's latest song, Pearl's behavior only added to the day's oddities.

Now, Mumbo found himself seated in his studio, surrounded by an eerie silence that seemed to echo his disoriented state of mind. The abrupt shift in his schedule had gifted him with unexpected free time, and his thoughts incessantly gravitated towards Grian. Each brief encounter they shared in the studio hallways left him with a lingering sense of disappointment, amplified by his own reluctance to engage in deeper conversations, granted he never had the time. But now, with time on his side, Mumbo couldn't help but dive into the depths of his contemplation.

As he absentmindedly tinkered with his tools, memories of their last interaction flooded Mumbo's thoughts. He vividly recalled the flush on Grian's face, the wavering in his voice—undeniable signs that something was amiss, something left unspoken. Grian had occupied his mind more than he cared to admit, and Pearl's teasing remarks only intensified his curiosity. "Oh, Mumbo, have you heard Grian's latest song? I found it particularly interesting," her words echoed, now carrying a weight that he hadn't fully appreciated at the time. While he dismissed it as playful banter at the time, but now he found himself on edge. What was she on about?

In the midst of Mumbo's contemplation, Scar arrived just moments before their scheduled meeting time. The two of them decided to make themselves comfortable and engage in a long-overdue conversation; they already anticipated Grian’s tardiness. Mumbo cherished these moments of connection with Scar, it’s been a while since they’ve been able to just talk.

Yet, as they delved into a discussion about the recent string of strange events that had befallen Mumbo, Scar's gaze took on a peculiar intensity—a gaze reminiscent of Pearl's. Furthermore, Scar continuously steered the conversation towards Grian—an unexpected topic, albeit a welcomed one. The fact that Scar failed to mention his beloved cat, Star Wars, or the latest Disney news, which were his usual go-to topics, only added to the day's uncanny nature.

Grian arrived a few minutes late and they started on the recording. As they began recording, Mumbo tried to ignore the undeniable joy sparked by the little metronome at the beginning of the track. However, it was Grian's lyrics that caught him off guard, causing him to look up briefly, only to be met with Grian's eyes fixed on the microphone, a small grin playing on his lips. The realization struck him — this was a love song.

A sense of unease enveloped Mumbo as he continued listening to Grian's lyrics. The words penetrated his soul, evoking emotions he couldn't quite articulate. But alongside the profound impact of the song, an unwelcome feeling of jealousy began to seep into Mumbo's consciousness, intensifying with each passing moment. Grian's passionate delivery and the genuine emotions emanating from his voice seemed to pierce Mumbo's heart, making him question his own place in Grian's world. He shook his head, trying to shake off the unsettling thoughts, but they persisted. Even his mind started being weird today. He turned his focus back to his work, not daring to look up.

Mumbo's mind began to wander, weaving scenarios of another person, someone who held Grian's heart. His gaze grew distant as his thoughts spiraled into a jealous narrative he couldn't escape. The more Mumbo dwelled on the song, the more the seed of jealousy took root within him.

Lost in his own mental labyrinth, Mumbo's mind conjured up scenarios of another person, someone who held Grian's affections. His gaze grew distant as his thoughts spiraled into a jealous narrative he couldn't escape. The teasing from Pearl and Scar, their meaningful looks and cryptic comments, flooded his memory. What were they hinting at? Was there a secret they were deliberately keeping from him? Did they know something he didn't? Mumbo prided himself on being astute, on picking up on hidden nuances, yet he felt blindsided, left out of the loop. How could he have missed such a crucial piece of the puzzle?

Struggling to rein in his emotions, Mumbo's concentration wavered during the recording session. His eyes involuntarily searched for any sign, any subtle gesture or expression from Grian that would confirm or dispel his suspicions. With each passing second, jealousy consumed him, fueling his desperate desire to unravel the truth. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, desperately trying to make sense of the turmoil swirling within him. Seriously, what is going on?

And then, Grian's voice faltered, his face flushing with an unfamiliar vulnerability. Mumbo's concern heightened, as he had rarely seen Grian display such vulnerability. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, but Grian quickly averted his gaze, seemingly forcing himself to focus on the microphone. His posture stiffened, his eyes brimming with emotions, and an underlying fear that Mumbo couldn't quite decipher.

Mumbo's heart clenched in response, the instinct to end the song early tugging at him. Yet, something compelled him to keep going, to continue listening. He couldn't ignore the subtle signals, the unspoken cues that seemed to hint at a deeper truth. His eyes darted to Scar, who returned his gaze, a mixture of concern and mischievous amusement twinkling in his eyes. Mumbo felt out of his depth, like a puppet in a complex play, desperately seeking answers in a world that had become increasingly enigmatic.

SERIOUSLY WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?

The song faded out, leaving a lingering tension in the air. Concern etched deeply into Mumbo's features as he immediately called out to Grian, asking if he was alright. However, Grian swiftly removed his headphones and hastily exited the booth, his face flushed and his gaze fixed on the door he was heading towards. Both Mumbo and Scar called out to him, their voices filled with worry, only to be met with the sound of a door slamming shut.

Instinctively, Mumbo rose from his seat, determined to follow Grian and find out if he was alright. But Scar's gentle grip on his wrist halted his movement, his eyes filled with a mix of compassion and understanding. It was a stark contrast to Mumbo's own panicked state.

"Don't worry, I've got this," Scar whispered softly, moving towards the door. "You stay here, okay?" With those reassurances, he closed the door behind him, leaving Mumbo alone in the vast emptiness of the studio.

Left to his own thoughts, Mumbo's anxiety threatened to overwhelm him. He paced back and forth, his mind a whirlwind of questions and uncertainties. What was going on with Grian? Why did he react that way? Was he alright? And why did Scar seem so composed, as if he held the answers Mumbo sought?

Mumbo's instincts told him to follow after Grian, to offer his support and try to get to the bottom of things. But a part of him hesitated. Perhaps Scar knew something he didn't, or maybe Grian needed some space to collect himself. Mumbo reluctantly decided to trust Scar's judgment and stay put.

As he waited anxiously, Mumbo replayed the events of the day in his mind, desperately trying to find any clues that could explain Grian's behavior. The sudden shift in his own schedule, the teasing remarks from Pearl and Scar, and the cryptic comments about Grian's song all resurfaced, intensifying his confusion.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours, and the studio remained eerily quiet. Mumbo couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important, that there was a piece of the puzzle he hadn't yet discovered. His thoughts circled back to his interactions with Grian, what was he missing?

Finally, the studio door creaked open, and Scar reappeared, his expression looking a bit proud. Mumbo rushed towards him, a torrent of questions ready to spill out, but Scar raised a hand, signaling for him to calm down.

"I think we'll take a five," Scar announced, glancing back towards the doorway. "Scratch that, a thirty," he chuckled, his eyes meeting Mumbo's with reassuring warmth. It was as if Scar could read Mumbo's thoughts, offering solace in his unspoken words. "Don't worry, he's alright. He just needs some time to clear his mind. We'll be back before you know it!" With that, Scar closed the door once again, leaving Mumbo to wrestle with his thoughts in the solitude of the studio.

"It's fine," Mumbo repeated to himself, attempting to quell the storm of worries raging within. "He's alright. Nothing's wrong." But the reassurance felt hollow, unable to dispel the unease that gripped his heart.

…

This is going to be a long thirty minutes…

Chapter Text

“Alright, let's go.”

Grian slowly uncurled himself, with a slow, deliberate movement. He pushed himself up from the floor and dusted off his pants, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Taking a deep breath, he nodded in response to Scar's suggestion. "Yeah, I... I think I need some air," Assisted by Scar, he lifted himself up, his grateful gaze meeting the comforting presence before him.

They ascended to the balcony-like area, facing away from the main road but still enjoying the luxury of fresh air and a view. "Thanks, Scar," Grian murmured out in one of the hallways, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. With a gesture of courtesy, he held the door open for Scar, his voice filled with a mix of relief and vulnerability. "I don't know what got into me. It's just a silly crush." 

Scar chuckled, wheeling himself out onto the balcony and giving some space to the singer. "Oh, come on, Grian. You and I both know it's more than that," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Grian's smile wavered slightly, and he averted his gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks under Scar's knowing stare. "I... ugh!" he groaned, succumbing to his embarrassment and covering his face with his hands. "Yeah, I guess it's more than just a silly crush," he confessed, his voice laced with a potent mix of anxiety and longing.

With a wry smile, Scar playfully nudged Grian's shoulder, his tone both teasing and comforting. "Well, well, well," he said, relishing in the moment. "Looks like someone has finally caught up with what the rest of us knew all along." Grian chuckled, grateful for Scar's light-hearted approach, his heart feeling a touch lighter.

He peeked down at Scar through his fingers, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. No need to rub it in," he replied, rolling his eyes with a hint of affection. 

Scar's mischievous grin widened, his eyes gleaming with delight. "Oh, don't think I'm letting you off the hook that easily, Grian. You owe me a 'Scar, you were right' declaration." 

Grian chuckled weakly, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Scar, you were right," he admitted, feigning exasperation. "Happy now?"

Scar's grin grew even wider, the satisfaction evident in his voice. "Ecstatic," he replied.

Grian defeatedly put his head back into his hands, "But seriously, I just didn't expect it to hit me like a ton of bricks during the middle of the recording session." he confessed, his face reddening at the memory. "I can't believe this happened, Scar. How did I let myself fall for Mumbo?" But in a much more real sense, he shouldn’t be this surprised. I mean, it’s Mumbo they’re talking about. How could anyone resist falling for that spoon?

Scar's features softened, his teasing tone replaced with a more empathetic one. "Love has a way of blindsiding us, doesn't it? Sometimes it takes a moment of clarity, like belting out lyrics to a love song in a booth you didn't even realize was meant for him, to make you see what's been right in front of you all along." Grian scoffed at the absurdity of it all. It sounded even worse when spoken aloud.

Grian let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his emotions. "I know you're right, but it's just... I never wanted things to get complicated. Mumbo's my friend. I don’t want to lose him, Scar."

Scar leaned back, crossing his arms and giving Grian a knowing look. "Unfortunately, we can't control these things. But hey, you don't have to dive headfirst into it right away. It's okay to take some time and let your feelings settle."

Grian let himself take in Scar's words. He knew he was right, but it didn't make the situation any less daunting. "You make it sound so simple," he remarked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. 

Scar chuckled softly, the sound laced with understanding. "Oh, trust me, it's far from simple. Matters of the heart rarely are. But sometimes, the risk is worth taking. Life is too short to hold back our feelings and wonder 'what if'." A mischievous glint danced in Scar's eyes, adding a touch of playfulness to his advice. "And hey, maybe you can drop some hints and see how he reacts."

Grian raised an eyebrow, intrigue flickering in his eyes. "Hints?"

Scar grinned mischievously. "Oh, come on, Grian! You're a sneaky guy. I'm sure you can find some ways to let Mumbo know you're interested. A bit of playful teasing, some extra attention, maybe a well-timed compliment here and there.” He trailed off teasingly.

Grian couldn't help but grin at Scar's mischievous tone and playful suggestions. "Alright, Mr. Matchmaker," he said, a hint of teasing in his voice, nudging Scar with his arm. His cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation as he considered Scar's playful suggestions. He couldn't deny that the idea of dropping hints and flirting with Mumbo sounded enticing, but it also made him feel slightly flustered… But the prospect was too alluring to pass up. "I'll trust your expertise on this one. But if it goes horribly wrong, I'm blaming you."

 Scar raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Me? Oh no, Grian, I'm just the humble advisor here. The success or failure of your flirting endeavors rests solely on your shoulders." 

Grian chuckled, shaking his head playfully. "Well, I hope you're ready to be my wingman then. It’s your new duty to come up with a master plan to not have this whole thing blow up in my face." 

Scar snickered at that as he leaned closer, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. "Oh, we shall make it a grand operation, Grian. Operation Mumbo's Heart, code name: Cupid's Sneaky Apprentice." 

Grian burst into laughter, the flustered feeling starting to dissipate. "What?” he managed to say through his laughter, caught off guard by Scar's audaciousness. After some more persuasion and plenty of amusement, Grian finally relented. "Alright, Scar, I'll give it a shot," he agreed, trying to sound nonchalant but unable to hide the hint of fluster in his voice.

Scar grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying Grian's reaction. "Oh, it’ll be magnificent! Just picture the look on Mumbo's face when he starts realizing that his favorite singer has some extra spice to offer," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“SCAR!” Grian scolded, his face turning bright red.

Scar raised an eyebrow playfully. "Whaaatt? I have no doubt you'll do great, G. Just remember, when it all works out, I expect a front-row seat at the wedding," he joked, a twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. 

“Scar, calm down. I’m begging you. I realized I liked him like… ten minutes ago.” Grian pleaded, his face growing redder by the second.

But this only encouraged Scar to continue, “I mean, kudos to you, Grian, Mumbo is quite attractive. So what was it? His sense of humor? Or maybe his dashing face. Oh no no no, I bet it was the messy suit, huh? I bet the moment you saw him in it you wanted-”
Grian hands flew to his ears. “Oh my god. I’m done talking to you!” he exclaimed, heading straight for the door, a mix of exasperation and amusement evident in his voice.. He didn’t know he was capable of blushing this much.

"Aw, but Grian!" Scar cooed, an unrepentant grin on his face. Grian shot him a glare that could pierce through steel, his face beet red.

“Sorry? What was that? I can’t hear you. I have a song I need to record in, like, twenty minutes.” Grian interrupted, propping the door open for Scar's inevitable departure. "See you!" he called out before briskly walking down the hallway.

He needed a walk.

Stepping outside, he was immediately met with a swarm of photographers. Right. Offering them a polite smile, he obliged them with a few quick photos to appease their relentless pursuit, hoping they would leave him alone soon. As he began to stroll, the crisp air helping clear his head, his thoughts naturally gravitated towards Mumbo. The way he looked, his irresistible charm, the genuine kindness and respect he showed to everyone—it all flooded Grian's mind. Mumbo is... well, he's just extraordinary. Maybe he could get used to this.

-

Mumbo sat alone in the dimly lit recording studio. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as he fidgeted with the dials on the soundboard, his mind consumed with worry. Where were Grian and Scar? The thirty-minute mark had long passed, and the minutes felt like an eternity. Mumbo glanced at his phone, unable to reach out to Pearl due to the café's rush hour. The onslaught of social media updates, interviews, and snippets of Grian's upcoming song only heightened his anxiety.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Mumbo questioned whether he had misunderstood the agreed-upon return time. Just as he was about to check his phone for any missed messages, the door swung open abruptly, revealing Scar with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Mumbo!" Scar exclaimed, wheeling himself into the room. "Guess who I found lurking in the hallway?"

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, his worry momentarily forgotten as he focused on Scar's cryptic remark. "Who?" he asked, his gaze shifting towards the door. 

And then, the door swung open once again, revealing Grian on the other side. The man walked in with a newfound air of confidence, catching Mumbo off guard. Scar cheered Grian’s name, but Mumbo was in autopilot mode, moving towards Grian near the now-closed doorway.

“Are you alright?” He asked, not even bothered with the concern lacing his words. His hand instinctively reached out and lightly gripped his forearm. Mumbo wasn’t aware that the small gesture immediately derailed any plans Grian had returning to the studio.

Mumbo noticed a light flush on Grian's cheeks, which he attributed to the rush of returning to the studio or perhaps lingering embarrassment from earlier. But it did nothing to quell Mumbo's worry, especially when Grian's gaze darted to his hand, then to Scar, and briefly back to Mumbo before settling on the ceiling as a sudden point of interest.

"Yeah—" Grian responded, his voice breaking slightly before he cleared his throat and met Mumbo's eyes again. "Yeah," he repeated, this time with more confidence.

His head tilted to the side amused, even if his eyes looked at him more with adoration than mischief. “What?” He laughed, before leaning closer to Mumbo’s face, “Miss me?”

Now it was time for Mumbo to get flustered. Mumbo's heart skipped a beat, his mind going momentarily blank as he was caught off guard. "Uh..." he stammered, the words escaping him as he tried to process Grian's proximity and playful question.

Grian chuckled, the tension easing as he made his way towards the recording booth. Mumbo remained momentarily frozen, watching the space Grian previously occupied. He noticed Grian motion something to Scar out of the corner of his eye, snapping him out of his daze. With a slight shake of his head, Mumbo returned to his setup, his heart still racing. The unexpected exchange had caught him off guard, and he couldn't help but replay it in his mind. Out of his many… many scenarios he ran through of that exchange that wasn’t one of them. It caught him off guard. That’s all.

As Grian was about to enter the booth, he turned back to Mumbo, looking guilty. "Oh! Right, um... I'm sorry about the whole," he motioned towards the booth, "thing earlier. I just... Yeah." Grian briefly glanced at Scar before continuing, "Are we good to continue?"

Mumbo felt a swell of fondness wash over him, reassured by Grian's words. He put on his headphones, adjusting them carefully. "It's alright, Grian, seriously," he assured, his voice filled with warmth. "And yeah, I haven't touched anything since. Well, yeah." Mumbo ended somewhat lamely as Grian reentered the booth with a newfound ease.

"Ready for another go?" Grian asked, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and anticipation.

Mumbo took a deep breath, attempting to steady his racing heart. He adjusted his headphones, meeting Grian's gaze with a determined smile. "Absolutely," he replied, his voice filled with resolve. As the familiar sound of Grian's voice filled his ears, Mumbo couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of comfort and familiarity wash over him.

The recording session continued, with Grian's performance becoming even more animated and interactive. Mumbo tried not to focus on the lyrics too much, not wanting to disrupt the newfound positive atmosphere in the studio. Grian sent him more frequent glimpses, a playful exchange of glances between them and then Scar. Mumbo couldn't help but notice that it made Grian appear either more self-assured or increasingly flustered.

During a particular run of the chorus, Grian's eyes shifted towards Scar, his face turning a bright shade of red. Mumbo winced at the sudden volume as Grian yelled, "SCAR!" The sound made him remove his headphones, and he turned to see Scar laughing uncontrollably next to him. Mumbo was left feeling confused, not fully understanding what had transpired. 

"Mumbo, kick him out," Grian groaned, his face buried in his hands.

Mumbo blinked in surprise, unsure of what was happening. He looked at Scar, who was still chuckling uncontrollably. Grian's request to kick him out seemed like a playful exaggeration, but Mumbo couldn't be certain. 

"Uh... Wait, like genuinely kick him out?" Mumbo asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Scar finally managed to compose himself, wiping away tears of laughter from his eyes. "No, no, I’ll stop, I promise!” He pleaded loudly to be heard by Grian between fits of giggles. 

Grian groaned again, his face still hidden. "Out!" his muffled voice came through the headphones.

Scar grinned mischievously at Grian, “Oh I see what’s going on,” He said, wiggling his eyebrows. He heard a muffled “Oh honestly-” from the headphone as Mumbo gave him a curious look. Scar just chuckled and waved him off, Mumbo couldn’t help but feel a bit left out. Scar just shrugged playfully and mouthed, "Later." As he made his way out of the room in a dramatic farewell and gestured for Mumbo to continue with the recording. 

Mumbo hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what was happening, but he gathered himself and put his headphones back on, resuming his position. He mustered all his willpower to stay focused, despite the occasional stolen glances from Grian, filled with a playful sparkle that both thrilled and distracted him. Nevertheless, Mumbo managed to stay on track and complete the recording.

After they finished, Mumbo removed his headphones and let out a sigh of relief mixed with exhilaration. "Did we get it?" Grian asked as he stepped out of the booth, a sheepish smile on his face.

Mumbo nodded his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "We got it.” he assured, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over him. Grian's visible relaxation brought a sense of satisfaction to Mumbo's heart. Grian made his way to his desk despite the many MANY sitting options available.

"Sorry about everything today," Grian said, genuine remorse evident in his voice.

He glanced at the door, where Scar left earlier. "I'm guessing Scar knows more than I do about what's going on?"

Grian chuckled and nodded. "Oh, you have no idea,” he said, a bit exhausted. “It’s been… quite a day.”

Mumbo settled back into his seat, feeling the playful familiarity enveloping them. "Tell me about it," he chuckled, realizing how unexpectedly tired he felt.

Grian raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Mumbo's comment. "Ey?"

Mumbo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “To keep a long story short, a lot of strange interactions and events today. Like, they completely wiped my schedule this morning.” he explained. Then, noticing the panic flash across Grian's face, he hurriedly added, "Not in a 'fire me' way! They just said they were worried about overworking or something. It was... admittedly very vague."

Grian demeanor relaxed before perking up, “Oh! They fixed your schedule finally?”

Mumbo was genuinely confused by Grian's words. "What do you mean?"

Grian’s face flushed slightly but he played it off well. If Mumbo wasn’t set on staring at it no one would have noticed, “Ah, It’s just… You’ve been working like 24/7, and I missed– I mean, I was worried about you.” He admitted quickly, before finding another response, “I mean, you’re my engineer and I felt like I had barely seen you outside of schedules… so I asked them to change it.”

If you asked Mumbo if anything that Grian had said made his heart melt. He would say no. He would also be lying.

With a lack of response Grian panicked, “Oh! Was that overstepping? I guess I should have asked first- I mean it’s your job who am I to-”

Mumbo cut him off with a fond chuckle, “Grian it’s fine! I- Thank you, actually.” He admitted softly, seeing Grian soften at the words. He found himself lost in Grian’s dark eyes. Grian was worried about him. The thought alone made his chest flutter with warmth.

However, he quickly shut down those emotions, breaking eye contact with Grian. "Well, I'm counting on you to keep me busy then," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Grian chuckled, playfully kicking Mumbo's knee. "Oh, I'm sure I can find something for you to do," he replied with a wink, before pulling himself off the desk. "Walk me out?" he asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Mumbo stumbled slightly, but quickly regained his composure. "Right," he bumbled out, following Grian to the entrance. He opened the car door for Grian, a small gesture of chivalry that earned a chuckle from the shorter man. "I'll see you soon," Grian chirped happily before entering the car. Mumbo closed the door and watched the car drive away, unaware of the giddy and slightly freaking out Grian inside.

Autopiloting his way back inside the studio, Mumbo saved and gathered his work before reaching for his phone to send a message. He really needed some tea.

Chapter Text

"Reservation, folks?" called the employee at the check-in stand, their voice cutting through the bustling crowd. The quartet stood out, dressed in elegant attire amidst a sea of jeans and t-shirts. Eyes turned towards them, whispers and pointed fingers spreading like wildfire, with eager spectators hastily pulling out their phones.

With a grin, Scar waved at the employee, urging Pearl to push him forward. He chats to the man with casual banter, Scar's natural charisma worked its magic as he handed over the reservation under his name. The employee's smile widened, prompting him to call over a colleague—a woman who initially paid them little attention, engrossed in her role of practiced hospitality. However, her eyes widened as she glanced at the group.

"Oh my god—Grian! It's an absolute pleasure to welcome you!" she exclaimed, her excitement tinged with a touch of frantic energy. Grian could only assume she must have been a fan. Grian offered her a small wave as she composed herself, quickly regaining her professional demeanor. "Please, follow me, I'll guide you inside."

They trailed behind her, entering the building, where others similarly adorned in stylish outfits stood. Most of them were engrossed in their own conversations or in their digital screens, yet Grian caught a few fleeting glances of recognition as they were escorted towards the awaiting elevator doors.

"Typically, we would accommodate larger groups on the tramway, but given the circumstances and safety measures, we can likely reserve the entire tram just for your group. Is that alright?" she inquired, her hands nervously fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve.

"Absolutely! That would be fantastic!" Scar cheerfully chirped as the elevator ascended to the next level. The employee guided them to another lady who diligently checked their tickets and confirmed the number of passengers. Once cleared, they were instructed to wait for the next available tram, anticipation mounting in the air.

This was Scar’s idea. The studio felt that Grian had been keeping himself cooped up for far too long, and they wanted him to break free from his hermit shell (AKA they wanted publicity). So, they assigned Scar the task of dragging him out and organizing some sort of outing. And being in the midst of a mountain fixation, Scar naturally devised a group trip up a magnificent peak.

Pearl's excitement was palpable as she eagerly pointed towards the window. "Guys! Look! They have a hiking trail! We can conquer that beast!"

Mumbo smirked, glancing upwards. "Pearl, if we ever so much as suggest hiking up that mountain, it's a sign that you should alert the authorities and inform them that we've been replaced by a group of deranged imposters. What's the elevation? Over 3000 meters, right?"

"3140 meters, to be exact," chimed in an employee, who warmly greeted the group. "Good evening, everyone! I'll be your guide on the tram ride up."

The transition was easy as they boarded the returning tram. The car was already filled with people, and it didn't take long for a young couple to recognize Grian. Excited whispers and pointing ensued, their words muffled by the glass. However, the reason behind their fervor was obvious, as more heads turned in their direction.

Grian offered a wave, which only served to amplify the excitement of those inside the tram. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as the employees valiantly tried to usher the excited fans off, eventually succeeding in creating some semblance of order.

The ascent was a breathtaking journey, albeit a tad lengthy. Mumbo and Scar bombarded the hapless worker with an array of questions, particularly Mumbo, who displayed a keen interest in the mountain's history. Grian, on the other hand, found himself less captivated by the historical details. Fortunately, Pearl shared his sentiment, and they clung to the handlebars, relishing the unfolding panorama as the city below gradually transformed into tiny dots, replaced by an expansive landscape of lush trees and rugged rocks.

Upon reaching the summit, the worker led them onto a platform. The crisp mountain air at this altitude was refreshing and invigorating. They pointed out various landmarks and shared intriguing anecdotes and historical tidbits as they strolled along the platform, taking in the awe-inspiring surroundings.

Grian couldn't help but be enchanted by the sight of the sturdy redwood deck, slightly chaotic yet meticulously organized with a fence of the same color hugging its edges. They joined other visitors who were busy capturing photos and basking in the majesty of the view—a tapestry of trees and sky. However, their moment of tranquility was short-lived as the crowd noticed the presence of a celebrity among them, prompting the group to be whisked away to the fine dining area.

To be fair, it was all a bit overwhelming. The plates were exquisitely expensive, menus adorned with fancy names that seemed more like poetic verses than culinary descriptions. It was never Grian's preferred scene; he always had a penchant for small, hole-in-the-wall restaurants with take-out. But he understood that attending these types of placed came with the territory of fame.
As they settled into their seats by the window, Grian couldn't help but steal glances at Mumbo, who sat across from him. The scenic view outside somehow paled in comparison to the intriguing figure before him.

Grian noticed Mumbo shifting slightly, his discomfort or nervousness apparent. The tension heightened when the waiter arrived, offering an array of fancy water options. Poor Pearl seemed overwhelmed by the menu, constantly pointing and whispering questions to Mumbo, who easily explained each dish. It was somewhat entertaining, but Grian's heart couldn't help but tighten with each subtle shift in Mumbo's demeanor.

Grian lightly tapped the table in front of Mumbo, catching his attention. He mouthed, "Are you okay?" Mumbo hesitated before answering, his expression betraying a hint of uncertainty. Grian was so focused on Mumbo that he failed to notice the other two observing the interaction.

It would explain why before Mumbo could even respond, Pearl suddenly exclaimed, "Scar, come take pictures of me!" She eagerly got out of her seat, grabbing Scar's chair and leading him outside for an impromptu photo session. Scar yelped in surprise but went along with Pearl's request. The whole scene was quite puzzling, drawing in a few glances from the other diners.

Lowering his head slightly, Grian turned his gaze toward Mumbo, who looked equally baffled. "Pearl is banned from fancy places," he declared in disbelief, causing Grian to burst into giggles.

"I—Wow—That—Yeah," Grian managed to say between fits of laughter, trying to regain control. He let out a contented sigh and looked back at Mumbo, who was already staring at him. Grian attempted to offer an assuring smile. "Is everything alright?" he asked affectionately.

Mumbo appeared taken aback for a moment before quickly recomposing himself. Straightening his posture, his expression turned more neutral compared to the usual animated one Grian was used to. He sighed, contemplating where to begin. "It's nothing serious, I just haven't been to a place like this in a while," he started, his gaze fixed on a window. "My family... had more money than they knew what to do with. We always ended up in places like these. It wasn't exactly a dream childhood, but I was grateful."

He paused, and a brief silence settled between them. Grian was on the edge of curiosity, but he refrained from pushing too far. But of course, Mumbo sensed this and made his decision, taking a breath before continuing. "They wanted me to follow in their footsteps," he continued. "I mean, I completely understand them. It was safe and ensured a good future for their child, but..." His voice trailed off.

Grian tilted his head, intrigued. "But...?" he prompted.

"But I couldn't remain stagnant," Mumbo replied simply. "Not to drone on about my past, but the condensed version is it was one of the nannies they hired who introduced me to music, and I couldn't stop loving it. It consumed my thoughts all the time, and when combined with the engineering aspect? Goodness, its hold on me was unyielding," he rambled, excitement glimmering in his eyes before gradually dimming. "My parents weren't exactly thrilled. We had a massive fight, and a lot of... well, you know how that goes. Anyways, I ended up taking out a loan to enroll in university, and then you know the rest," he said, returning his gaze to Grian with his deep, intense eyes. "I guess being here just reminds me of them, that's all."

Grian asked in a soft, low tone, "Do you ever regret it?" 

Grian's soft question hung in the air, creating a brief moment of intimacy between them. Mumbo's heart seemed to lighten, his eyes softening as they locked with Grian's. A gentle smile formed on his lips, and his voice carried a sense of unwavering conviction as he replied, "No."

Relief washed over Grian, his heart swelling at Mumbo's response. "Good," Grian whispered, his voice filled with genuine warmth. The mountain air seemed to muddle his thoughts, making it harder to think clearly. He reached his hand across the table, intending to place it gently on top of Mumbo's.

Before he could delve further, Pearl and Scar returned, Pearl brimming with excitement over the photos Scar had taken. Grian's hand instinctively recoiled, and the atmosphere shifted back to a more lighthearted tone as they continued with their meal, sharing stories and laughter.

-

Once they finished a few hours later, they ventured outside. The sun had set long before they’d gotten out, and an unexpected chill permeated the air, causing Grian to shiver and hug himself tightly.

"Okay, NO ONE said it was going to be this cold!" Grian exclaimed, his teeth chattering as he tried to warm himself.

Scar chuckled at Grian's discomfort. "Well, I did mention that we were going to the top of the mountain, G. It's not my fault you didn't think it through. Meanwhile, I am perfectly comfortable." He flaunted his jacket, snuggling it closer to his chest.

Grian shot an annoyed glance at Scar, who had already turned his attention to Pearl, engrossed in their conversation. Shivering again, Grian wrapped his arms even tighter around himself when he suddenly felt a weight settle over his shoulders.

His hands instinctively gripped the black silk suit jacket that now draped over him. It wasn't clear whether it was the jacket itself, the fact that Mumbo had given it to him, or the way Mumbo was looking at him with arms still holding the jacket around his shoulders, but warmth flooded Grian's body and his cheeks flushed with heat.

Grian's heart skipped a beat as he glanced up at Mumbo, who now stood beside him, his gaze filled with warmth and concern. The jacket, imbued with Mumbo's scent, provided warmth but also a comforting sense of security against the biting cold.

"Thanks," Grian managed to say, his voice slightly shaky from the rush of emotions. A genuine smile graced his lips, grateful for Mumbo's thoughtfulness. "You're a lifesaver."

Mumbo smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No problem. I can't have my singer freezing to death, can I?" His grip on Grian tightened, as if to emphasize his stance.

Grian's cheeks grew even warmer, the blush spreading across his face at the mention of being Mumbo’s anything. Their friendship had always held a special place in his heart, but as of late, his feelings for Mumbo had been rapidly evolving since he first realized them. (And although the playful flirting is fun, it only seemed to make him fall deeper) The way Mumbo looked at him, the gentle touch of his hands on Grian's shoulders—it sent a rush of warmth through his entire being.

They slowly ventured towards the edge, away from the crowds. The sun had long set, leaving only a few lingering souls who were too absorbed in their own worlds to pay attention to those around them. It was late, they were tired, and were all merely waiting for the tram to descend. However, the view before them, with the city's twinkling lights transforming it into a miniature wonderland, was nothing short of breathtaking.

As they stood there, enveloped in the crisp mountain air, Grian couldn't resist the urge to lean into Mumbo. And without hesitation, Mumbo responded by pulling him closer, their bodies fitting together seamlessly. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in each other's warmth. Time lost its grip as they gazed into the night, their connection growing stronger with each passing heartbeat. Grian's heart pounded in his chest, but he didn't mind—this moment was too precious to let any worries intrude.

In the distance, the city's skyline was adorned with a magnificent firework display. From their elevated vantage point, the bursts of light and crackling sounds appeared minuscule, as though they were watching a carefully choreographed spectacle. If it wasn’t for the faint booming sound Grian might have assumed it was. He pointed towards the distant lights, his hand slightly slipping out of the jacket as he did so.

"Look," he whispered softly, his voice meant only for Mumbo's ears.

Mumbo followed Grian's gaze, his eyes fixated on the distant fireworks. They illuminated the night sky with vibrant colors and painted a breathtaking scene over the cityscape. Mumbo hummed in appreciation, but his focus quickly returned to Grian.

"It's beautiful," Mumbo murmured, his voice filled with wonder. He tightened his embrace around Grian, drawing him even closer, as if unwilling to let go of this moment. The chill of the mountain air became insignificant, replaced by the warmth and electric energy between them. "It's surreal to see it from up here, everything seems so much smaller, doesn't it?"

Grian smiled, feeling a rush of happiness as he watched the fireworks with Mumbo by his side. “Yeah, but they’re still there. But if we were down there, right underneath, I bet they look massive. Feel massive.” In that moment, everything felt right. The cold, the stares, and even Scar's teasing remarks became insignificant compared to this moment. “No matter how many times you see it from afar… It’s always better when you’re there experiencing them.”

Mumbo huffed affectionately, a fond smile gracing his lips. "You're really tired, aren't you?" he remarked.

Grian chuckled softly, the weariness evident in his voice. "Yeah, you caught me. The cold took a toll on me." He then playfully added, "But you're tired too. I can tell."

This prompted a tired chuckle from Mumbo as he leaned into the warmth of Grian's presence.

With his head resting against Mumbo's shoulder, Grian found solace in their quiet connection as they lapsed into silence.

"I'm glad we came up here," Grian confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. He gazed up at Mumbo, his eyes brimming with affection. "And I'm glad you're here with me."

Mumbo met Grian's gaze, a soft smile gracing his features. "Me too, Grian," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

In the midst of their intimate moment, Grian mustered the courage to speak his heart, his voice barely audible. "Mumbo, I..."

"Hey, guys! Our tram is here!" Pearl's excited voice suddenly rang out. Scar waved them over, signaling that it was time to board the tram and return home. Reluctantly, Grian and Mumbo pulled away from each other, their unspoken words left hanging in the air. They turned towards Pearl and Scar, deciding if they should make their way to join their friends. Grian took a deep breath, his heart still racing, and gave Mumbo a small, reassuring smile.

"Let's go," he said, his voice tinged with longing, as they walked towards their waiting friends. Their fingers brushed for a brief moment, but Grian chose to keep his hands to himself this time, resisting the urge to reach out to Mumbo.

As they settled onto the tram, Grian couldn't shake off the weight of their conversation. His desire to reach out to Mumbo and reveal the depth of his feelings lingered within him, but he hesitated, unsure of how Mumbo would respond. Mumbo, lost in thought, gazed into the distance, his expression distant and contemplative. The unspoken distance between them felt like an insurmountable barrier, and Grian longed for an opportunity to bridge the gap.

Throughout the tranquil tram ride down the mountain, Grian's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and doubts. Silence enveloped them, and everyone seemed weary as the moon rose higher in the sky. The city lights grew brighter, casting an ethereal glow on the night, accentuating the features of Mumbo's dark eyes and hair. Grian couldn't help but admire how he looked in that luminous ambiance as their day came to a close.

As they stepped off from the tram and made their way towards the exit, Grian stole fleeting glances at Mumbo, searching for a sign, a glimpse of something deeper between them. But Mumbo's expressions remained the same as he always looked at him, making it difficult for Grian to figure anything out.

Their respective cars approached them, and with goodbyes from Pearl and Mumbo, they headed their separate ways. Exhaustion washed over them all, which at least allowed Grian to collapse into the car without much fuss from Scar. As they began to drive away, his melancholic gaze fixated on the passing scenery outside the window, the weight of his emotions gnawing at his heart.

"Was it too cliché?" Grian mumbled, his words barely audible against the glass, as Scar shifted, presumably turning to look at him.

"Hmm?" Scar asked sleepily.

Grian let out a sigh, turning to face him. "The fireworks, the cold night, the...," he trailed off, suddenly aware of the warmth surrounding him. His hands gently traced the trim of the jacket he had forgotten to return.

Scar chuckled softly, closing his eyes. "I think you're just fine, Gri."

A soft smile tugged at Grian's lips as he wrapped the jacket tighter around him. As much as he enjoyed teasing Mumbo, his heart still yearned for him. He could only hope that, at the end of the day, Mumbo felt the same.

Chapter Text

Rule number one of working in the music industry.

Never, ever, under any circumstances, fall for a singer.

Mumbo had been privy to the cautionary tales, those heart-wrenching stories that echoed through the corridors of countless music professionals who had succumbed to the irresistible charm of a vocalist. They had been lured into a whirlwind romance, only to find their lives shattered and their careers left in ruins. It was a treacherous gamble, a dangerous dance with emotions that threatened to consume even the most vigilant souls. In this industry—a battleground of ambitions, inflated egos, and fleeting connections—Mumbo had borne witness to the casualties of love amidst the chaotic symphony of music.

He had observed the power struggles, the bitter rivalries, and the explosive meltdowns that tore collaborations asunder. Talented producers, dedicated assistants, and brilliant engineers had all lost themselves in the mesmerizing allure of a singer, only to be ensnared as pawns in a grand symphony of heartbreak and professional compromise.

The music industry thrived on rumors and envy, ever eager to exploit the slightest hint of weakness. Mumbo had seen firsthand how love could tarnish one's hard-earned professional standing, how whispers of favoritism and compromised integrity could erode even the most pristine reputation. The stakes were unforgivingly high, and Mumbo was acutely aware that he couldn't afford to become, nor allow someone else to become, another tragic victim in this relentless game.

.

No matter how their voice transcended the realm of mortal artistry.

No matter if their voice possessed an otherworldly beauty, a magnetic force capable of ensnaring even the most jaded of souls. Grian, with his ethereal presence and undeniable talent, tempting fate itself. Even if it was him.

…

Not that Mumbo had any interest in Grian, of course. Absolutely not. No way.

Definitely not the reason he is currently seeking refuge with Pearl. There was no reason for him to hide in the cafe, avoiding the studio just to escape the possibility of encountering the charismatic blond. That would be preposterous. Mumbo simply wanted to lose himself in the enchanting melodies of the piano, hoping they would drown out the relentless whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind.

As Mumbo sat at the piano, his fingers gracefully gliding across the keys, he attempted to find solace in the music he created. Music had always been his refuge, a sanctuary where he could momentarily forget the complexities of life. Yet, today, even the harmonies he conjured couldn't quiet the echoes of Grian in his thoughts.

Mumbo admires Grian's remarkable talent, marveling at the seamless fusion of their musical creations. The chemistry he has on stage was undeniably powerful, a magnetic force that defied all logical explanations. However, Mumbo knew all too well the perils of succumbing to the allure of a singer, especially one as captivating as Grian.

Yet, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that his feelings were baseless, he couldn't ignore the flutter in his heart whenever Grian's name was mentioned. It was a dangerous game he was playing, teetering on the edge of a precipice that could shatter not only his professional reputation but also his own heart.

The gentle chime of the cafe door broke the spell, signaling the entrance of both the outside world and the person who had just stepped inside. Mumbo didn't bother looking up, engrossed in the sounds emanating from his fingertips. His fingers tapped lightly against the keys, offering a therapeutic release, or at least a temporary distraction from...

“Oh! Brilliant there’s no one here!”

The sound of the voice made Mumbo's fingers jolt, slamming onto the keys.

His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the voice that shattered his concentration. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Grian, who stood there with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, Scar waving to Pearl in the background. The surprise etched on Mumbo's face transformed into a soft smile because, despite Mumbo's problem just walking through the door, he couldn't help but feel joy at the sight of Grian standing before him.

"Grian!" Mumbo exclaimed, his voice a mixture of surprise and delight. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a busy schedule today."

Grian shrugged nonchalantly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, I may have pulled a few strings to clear my afternoon. Couldn't resist the opportunity to surprise my favorite pianist." He winked, walking over to Mumbo.

Mumbo chuckled, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice, “Uh huh, sure. And how did you even know I was here?” He challenged

Grian grinned, unabashed. "Well, obviously, I just know you that well, Mumbo Jum-bolio," he replied quickly, but Mumbo's raised eyebrow and silence made Grian relent. "...and Pearl may have mentioned you were here."

Mumbo couldn't help but chuckle at Grian's playful response, silently dubbing Pearl a rat. He had to admit, Grian had a way of effortlessly lightening the mood and making him forget his worries, even if just for a moment.

"Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance," Mumbo replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Grian grinned mischievously, casually leaning against the piano. "Oh, you know me. I live for surprises," he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

A flutter danced in Mumbo’s chest at the sight of Grian's playful expression. He tried to hide his growing attraction behind a facade of nonchalance. "Well, you certainly excel at that, don't you?" he quipped, unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

Grian tilted his head, his gaze lingering on Mumbo's face. "So, what were you playing before I so rudely interrupted?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity as he shooed Mumbo to one side of the bench to join him.

Mumbo's fingers tapped out a few notes on the piano absentmindedly. "Just some random notes, really. Trying to.. figure stuff out," he admitted, stealing a quick glance at Grian. "You have no idea how much of a distraction you are, though."

Grian chuckled, a seductive glimmer in his eyes. "Oh, I'm well aware of the effect I have on you, Mumbo. Can't blame you for being distracted when faced with such irresistible charm," he replied, a hint of playful arrogance in his tone.

Raising an eyebrow, Mumbo feigned indifference. "Irresistible charm, huh?" he retorted, masking the fluttering of his heart.

Grian scooted closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. "Oh, come on, Mumbo. We both know you're not immune to my charms.”

Mumbo sputtered, his face turning red as he lightly pushed Grian away, quickly turning his head to hide his blushing cheeks. His heart hammered in his chest. Grian had no idea what he was doing to him. He coughed awkwardly, trying to regain his composure, and began playing a simple melody on the piano. But Grian sitting so close to him made it ever more challenging to sort out the turmoil in his head and heart.

After a few moments of silence, filled only by Scar and Pearl's distant conversation and the gentle harmonies of the piano, Grian broke the tranquility, startling Mumbo from his thoughts. "You know," Grian began, leaning closer, his voice infused with warmth, "I've been thinking about the next song."

Mumbo hummed curiously, encouraging Grian to continue as his fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys.

Grian's gaze softened as he met Mumbo's eyes. "I'm thinking of a love song, actually," he confessed, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

Mumbo's heart raced at the mention of another love song. He struggled to maintain his composure as the words lingered in the air, echoing through his mind. He may have fumbled a few notes, the proximity of Grian only intensifying the whirlwind of emotions within him. It was dangerous territory to tread, and the irony was not lost on him, considering the rule he had vowed to follow.

"Love song, huh?" Mumbo managed to say, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "That could be interesting. Any particular inspiration behind it?" His curiosity danced with a touch of vulnerability, resisting searching Grian's face for any sign, any clue.

Grian's eyes sparkled as he leaned in even closer, "Well, let's just say it's about someone who's been on my mind lately," he said, his voice low and husky. His gaze lingered on Mumbo's face, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "Someone who inspires me in ways I can't quite explain."

Mumbo's heart skipped a beat, the implications of Grian's words igniting a tempest of emotions within him. Could it be... him? The thought sent a surge of excitement and uncertainty coursing through his veins, a wild mix of hope and doubt intertwining. But no, it couldn't be. Mumbo dismissed the idea as a mere figment of his imagination, unwilling to entertain the possibility. It was nonsense.

Trying to mask his emotions, Mumbo chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, really? That's... um, great to hear," he replied, his voice laced with a tinge of jealousy he couldn't quite suppress. "I'm sure it'll be… great." he finished lamely, words falling flat.

Grian tilted his head, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Oh, Mumbo, you have no idea," he teased, his voice dripping with allure.

Mumbo's fingers tapped nervously against the keys, his gaze fixated on the piano in a desperate attempt to regain his composure. The conflicting emotions within him refused to be silenced. A pang of jealousy gnawed at his insides, its source remaining elusive to his conscious mind.

Swallowing hard, Mumbo finally summoned the courage to speak up, his voice laced with a hint of strain. "Grian, I... I'm glad you've found someone who… yeah," he managed to say, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Grian's smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face as his eyes darted briefly towards Scar. However, he quickly found resolve in something unseen, leaning on the piano with a careful grace. "Well... I was hoping you could help me with it," he said, perking up, his gaze fixed on Mumbo with an expression that begged for cooperation. It was a look Mumbo couldn't bring himself to refuse.

Mumbo's heart performed a complicated dance, torn between the soaring exhilaration of being invited to collaborate with Grian once again, (I mean, he’s been waiting for the opportunity to write with Grian again, even if it meant simply being present as Grian wrote). Yet, beneath the surface, a sinking feeling tugged at his core, its origins elusive but unmistakable.

Taking a deep breath to steady his voice, Mumbo replied, trying to sound casual, “Sure, Gri… I’d be happy to.”

Grian's smile returned, though Mumbo couldn't help but notice the lingering trace of disappointment in his eyes. "Great!" Grian exclaimed, his enthusiasm not quite reaching his previous level. "I was thinking of starting with some lyrics. I have a few ideas, but I could use some help to make them better."

Mumbo nodded, forcing a smile onto his face. "Of course, mate. Show me what you’ve got."

Grian eagerly retrieved his laptop, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he began to hash out the main idea for the song. He explained that he wanted to capture the essence of falling in love, aiming for a shorter composition but feeling like something was missing from his initial draft.

Mumbo couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing a role, pretending to be just a friend and collaborator when he felt there was more. Strange, and he beat himself up over it, he’s supposed to be happy for his friends, not… whatever this was. But he pushed those thoughts aside, determined to support Grian and be there for him, even if it meant his own chest felt constricted, as if lacking oxygen.

Lost in his own swirling thoughts, Mumbo's fingers stumbled on the piano keys, eliciting a discordant note that hung in the air for a moment. He swiftly regained his composure, attempting to brush off the distraction.

Grian, ever perceptive, noticed Mumbo's momentary lapse and reached out, gently placing a hand on Mumbo's, effectively stilling his fingers on the keys. "Are you okay, Mumbo?" Grian inquired, his face etched with concern. "You seem a little off today."

Mumbo's heart skipped a beat as Grian's hand made contact with his own, sending a surge of electricity through his body. He met Grian's gaze, momentarily forgetting his inner turmoil in the intensity of their connection.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine," Mumbo replied, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. "Just got lost in my thoughts for a moment. Sorry about that."

Grian's expression softened, his thumb lightly tracing circles on the back of Mumbo's hand. "You know, Mumbo, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you," he offered, his voice filled with genuine care. "We're… we’re friends, and friends are there for each other."

Mumbo's heart ached at Grian's words, his eyes locked with Grian's for a brief moment before he shifted his gaze to Pearl, who had been observing them discreetly. Understanding passed between them, unspoken yet felt. Pearl whispered something to Scar before her eyes met Mumbo's once more, offering silent support.

Pearl's arrival provided a much-needed distraction for Mumbo, who was still grappling with his emotions. He welcomed the interruption, hoping it would alleviate the tension that had settled between him and Grian.

Pearl beamed at both of them, her infectious energy filling the air. "What's going on here?" she chimed in, leaning against the piano. "I saw you two huddled together. Planning something exciting, perhaps?" Her curiosity danced in her eyes, though Mumbo couldn't help but sense a hint of her amplifying it for show.

Grian chuckled, his hand lingering on Mumbo's for a moment longer before he withdrew it, leaving behind a lingering warmth. He leaned back slightly, turning to Pearl. "Just discussing some song ideas," he replied, casting a swift glance at Mumbo.

Pearl's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Ooh, a new song? That's fantastic! I love it when you two collab. Your energies are simply electric," she gushed, unable to contain her enthusiasm, even if Mumbo detected a tinge of exaggeration in her words.

Mumbo chuckled, though he knew Pearl could sense the forced nature of it. "Yeah, let's get back to it," he said, his voice holding a tinge of restraint. "Grian can show you what he has so far."

Grian's gaze flickered with a hint of hurt before he turned his attention to his laptop. "Alright then," he replied quietly, his tone tinged with a touch of disappointment that Mumbo couldn't quite decipher. "Let's focus on the song now, shall we? I think I have some lyrics that might work." With those words, he shifted away from Mumbo and eagerly presented his laptop to Pearl, inviting her into the creative process.

As the conversation shifted back to the song, Mumbo made a concerted effort to focus on the task at hand. He knew he needed to set aside his own emotions and be there for Grian as a collaborator and friend. It wasn't easy, though, as his mind continued to wander, contemplating the depth of their interactions and the unspoken sentiments that lingered beneath the surface.

As Grian and Pearl delved into the lyrics, discussing ideas and making adjustments, Mumbo listened intently, providing his input where necessary. He admired Grian's talent and creativity, and despite his inner turmoil, he couldn't deny the magic that happened when they worked together. The sparks of inspiration that ignited the air were palpable, even if Mumbo tried to push them aside.

“Ok ok, well let me get warmed up real quick. We’ll see if any violins could help.” she said, flashing a smile before heading to the back of the stage to retrieve her instrument.

Mumbo's gaze followed Pearl's movements, a twinge of guilt gnawing at his conscience. He silently chastised himself for the mixed signals he unintentionally sent to Grian. He wanted to be there for him, to provide unwavering support, but his own conflicted emotions created a fog that hindered his clarity.

As Pearl returned with her violin, Mumbo took a deep breath, determined to set his personal feelings aside and immerse himself in the music. Collaborating with Grian and Pearl had always been a source of joy and creative fulfillment, and perhaps this project would be no different. Pearl carefully positioned the violin against her collarbone, her bow poised above the strings. With two deliberate strokes, ran the bow across the strings before taking a deep breath and letting her eyes close.

She played those familiar six notes that had become a shared anthem among them. Mumbo joined in, his piano notes cascading gently, their harmonies intertwining. Pearl then proceeded to run through scales, each note resonating with precision. Mumbo mirrored her actions, hoping the familiar exercise would help reset his mind. He watched as Grian's interest was piqued, the musician tapping along to the rhythm of their melody.

With Pearl's high note lingering in the air, she announced, "Alright! Let's get this started!" Her enthusiasm echoed throughout the room, infusing the atmosphere with a renewed energy.

However, Grian pulled out his phone, his attention fixated on both Mumbo and Pearl. "Play that again,"

Mumbo and Pearl exchanged a confused glance, but they nodded and played the introductory notes again, this time more focused and deliberate. Grian leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on Mumbo, and his fingers tapped along to the rhythm of the melody.

As the notes resonated through the air, Grian's face lit up with excitement. He quickly started recording the sound on his phone, capturing the essence in a recording.

"Perfect," Grian whispered softly, a wide grin spreading across his face. He couldn't contain his excitement and began humming a melody, his words mumbled. Mumbo strained to catch what Grian was singing, but he managed to make out a few lyrics, "So this is love... I know it is."

Pearl and Mumbo exchanged an amused glance as Grian began to craft the song into reality. Mumbo couldn't help but simply watch, captivated by Grian's talent. It was enough for him.

Mumbo's fingers danced across the keys, his piano providing the foundation for the melody. Pearl's violin weaved through the music, adding depth and emotion to the composition.

As they continued to play, Mumbo found himself losing track of time and getting lost in the music. The worries and uncertainties that had plagued his mind earlier were momentarily forgotten as he surrendered himself to the harmony they were creating. In that moment, it was just the music, the three of them bound by their shared passion.

Then, Pearl glanced at the time, a hint of alarm on her face. "Hey, we might want to start wrapping up. People tend to arrive soon," she warned, already moving to put her violin away.

Grian let out a small sigh of disappointment, but he quickly composed himself. "You mind if we take a booth?" he asked, already including Mumbo in his plans. Pearl, without hesitation, nodded in agreement and disappeared into the back, tying an apron around her neck while chatting with Scar.

Mumbo released a contented sigh as Grian turned off the recording on his phone, a wide grin still adorning his face. He helped Grian gather his belongings and move to a booth. "Thank you for everything, Pearl," he expressed, genuine excitement in his voice.

Pearl responded with a nod, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "It's always a pleasure to work with you both," she replied warmly. Grian disappeared behind the curtain, leaving Scar who chose to stay visible as the bell chimed, announcing the arrival of guests.

Mumbo's heart swelled with a mixture of happiness and bittersweetness as he slipped into the booth. He had managed to set aside his own personal feelings for the sake of the song, and it had resulted in something truly amazing. But as the music faded into silence, the reality of his situation came crashing back.

As the pair began discussing the next steps for the song, Mumbo couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, he cherished their friendship and wanted nothing more than to see Grian succeed (whether in music or in love). On the other hand, he couldn't ignore the feelings that had taken root in his heart, though he couldn't quite put a name to them. The answer eluded him.

Mumbo barely noticed Grian handing him an earbud, but he obediently placed it in his ear as Grian pressed play, allowing the sound of violins to begin the song.

[this is what falling in love feels like - JVKE]

The piece was raw and unpolished, clearly a result of their brief collaboration. Yet, its sound was already remarkable, speaking volumes despite its brevity. Mumbo couldn't help but think bitterly that whoever this song was about better feel damn lucky when they hear it.. He could hear the joy in Grian's voice as he sang, his smile radiating like sunshine. Mumbo had never despised Bluetooth earbuds until now; he wished they were connected by a wire. He wishes he could lean in close to listen to the music, craving to be closer.

As the song faded away, blending into carefree whistling, Mumbo remained quiet, trying to focus on his own heart. It aches. It feels full. It knows. It’s confused.

Grian looked at Mumbo, a fond look shining in his eyes. "What cha' think?" he inquired, his voice tinged with anticipation.

Mumbo gazed back at Grian, his expression causing the amused look to waver and a blush to dust Grian's cheeks. "You're so talented, Grian," he managed to say, his words filled with sincerity.

Grian stared at him for a few moments, seemingly taken aback. "Ah, thanks," he replied simply, pressing a few buttons on his computer. They shared a moment of silence, the muffled sounds of customers outside the booth filling the space. Grian took a deep breath before suddenly asking, "Hey, are you free this weekend?" He directed his gaze at Mumbo.

Mumbo took a brief moment to consider his schedule but couldn't think of anything that would interfere. "I don't think so, why?" he responded, curiosity piqued.

A soft smile played on Grian's face as he turned his attention back to his computer. "Well, good sir, you owe me a movie night."

-

Scar leaned on the bar, his curiosity piqued. "Soooo? How's phase two of Operation Two-Wingman/Woman going?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Pearl let out a sigh and glanced at the booth. She could barely see Mumbo through a gap who was obviously not paying much attention to anything but Grian’s face. "Unfortunately, it's progressing slower than we would like," she admitted, a tinge of defeat in her voice as she watched the pair huddled around the shared laptop. "It's not that Mumbo doesn't have feelings for Grian. Trust me, I’m sure that man was smitten the moment he laid eyes on him," she added with a playful tone, earning a chuckle from Scar. But her expression grew serious. "The problem is, he's stuck in his own head."

Scar furrowed his brow, trying to grasp the situation. “What do you mean?”

Pearl paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before explaining, "Well, you remember how we had to push Grian to realize his feelings, right?" Scar nodded in agreement. "Well, Mumbo is the complete opposite. The more we push him, the more he'll retreat. He always has a reason for everything, and if we try to force the issue, he'll start hiding behind a wall of reasons why he shouldn't allow himself to fall for Grian." She let out a solemn sigh and rested her chin on a machine. "I don't think we can really interfere in this phase," she concluded, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

Just as the conversation seemed to be reaching a dead end, Scar's phone chimed, capturing his attention. He glanced down at the notification and a wide grin spread across his face. "Well, it looks like we won't have to worry that much after all," he declared, turning the phone to show Pearl, who was busy pouring coffee into a cup.

Grian: I called the car [14:28]

Grian: And Mumbo said yes to the movie JKLSFGHP [14:28]

Pearl chuckled softly as she called out a name on the cup. Perhaps they didn't need to intervene as much as they thought. The progress between Grian and Mumbo seemed to be taking its own natural course, and perhaps, just perhaps, everything would fall into place on its own.

Chapter Text

Mumbo’s heart raced in his chest, his palms felt clammy, and his mind couldn't help but conjure up all sorts of scenarios. He desperately tried to convince himself that there was no reason to be anxious, repeating the mantra, "It's just a movie, nothing to worry about."

But how can you not feel anxious going down the pavement in a neighborhood that rivals Holland Park? The houses that lined the streets exuded a grandeur that seemed to transcend time, their facades adorned with intricate details and opulent designs. Each house a testament to the area's history and affluence. Georgian and Victorian-style residences stood tall, their stately presence commanding attention. Delicate bay windows framed with lace-like ironwork showcased the timeless elegance of the neighborhood, while imposing front doors hinted at the opulence awaiting within.

Soft hues of cream, pastel blues, and delicate pinks complemented the lush greenery of the park nearby, creating a harmonious blend of natural and man-made beauty. Pops of vibrant flowers burst forth, weaving a colorful tapestry against the backdrop of manicured lawns. Tall, slender trees offered shade and serenity, their branches swaying gracefully in the gentle breeze.

Even the pavement was impeccably maintained! Guiding Mumbo along the charming street. The gentle sound of footsteps mingled with the distant chirping of birds, creating a soothing melody that accompanied his journey. The absence of the typical hustle and bustle associated with city life should have allowed for a leisurely stroll. But his mind was far too loud to ever let that happen.

It’s a bad idea. A horrible one really. Because Mumbo was pushing it. Treading the line between friends and… and something else way too closely for his comfort. But he couldn’t say no. Not to this. Not to Grian.

But that didn’t stop the sense of unease settled in his stomach as he approached Grian's home. The elegant facade of the Victorian-style home stood before him, its windows reflecting the warm glow of the streetlights.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering uncertainty over the doorbell. Doubt gnawed at him, whispering words of caution and warning. But, in spite of his reservations, he took a deep breath and pressed the button. The resonant sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, followed by the soft melody of chimes. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited, his mind racing with uncertainties. What if this was a mistake? What was he even doing there? Maybe he could still change his mind and…

The door swung open, revealing Grian standing there with a wide, welcoming grin on his face. "Hey!" he greeted warmly. Mumbo's breath hitched in his throat. He wasn’t dressed much different than usual, in a cozy sweater and worn-out jeans, his hair slightly messy, making him look effortlessly attractive. But his heart still skipped as he took in the sight.

Summoning a smile, though it felt more strained than he desired, Mumbo replied, his voice laced with a touch of nervousness, "Thanks for inviting me."

Grian's smile widened, and he pulled Mumbo into his home, his hand wrapping around Mumbo's effortlessly. His cheeks flushed, as he was drawn inside, Grian deftly kicking the door shut with his foot and quickly locking it.

The interior of Grian's house was just as charming as the exterior, reflecting his unique sense of style. Quirky decorations adorned the walls, shelves filled with trinkets and mementos from all sorts of places and people. The air carried a comforting warmth, mingling with familiar scents and the bustling sounds of boiling water and Grian's animated chatter about a friend cat sitting for him. The atmosphere began to alleviate some of the tension that had settled within Mumbo.

Grian led Mumbo through the hallway, their hands intertwined. The touch sent a shiver down Mumbo's spine, his heart fluttering with each step. The proximity between them felt both comforting and electrifying, a delicate dance of emotions.

As they entered the living room, Mumbo's eyes widened at the sight before him. First off, the room looked too big for one person. I mean it looked far too big for two, but that’s besides the point, he couldn’t believe Grian lived alone. Secondly, it looked so comfortable. The room was transformed into a sanctuary of comfort, complete with blankets and pillows scattered across the floor and couch. A large TV screen hung from the wall, already preloaded with some god awful romcom called “Double Life”.

The fact that the most inviting and snug spot on the couch was positioned in the center, amply accommodating two people despite the abundant space, did not escape Mumbo's notice.

Mumbo tried not to let his mind dwell on the effort Grian must have put into setting up this cozy haven. He reasoned that Grian probably did the same for all his guests. But the thought still stirred something within him.

Grian turned to face Mumbo, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I thought we could have our own private movie night," he said, his voice exuding warmth. "No distractions, just you and me... enjoying some of the greatest films in cinematic history," he added, injecting a touch of lightheartedness to ease the tension that lingered.

Mumbo's stomach flipped at the implied intimacy, their laughter and shared moments in the flickering glow. It was a temptation he couldn't resist, despite the internal turmoil that churned within him. "That sounds... like an exaggeration," Mumbo replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

He tried to steady his breathing, to quiet the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. This was just a movie night, he reminded himself. Just friends enjoying each other's company. Grian beamed at Mumbo, his excitement contagious. "I can’t wait to prove you wrong," he said, releasing Mumbo's hand and moving back towards the kitchen. "I have a few movies lined up, but we can always decide together. Make yourself at home.”

Mumbo nodded, his gaze lingering on Grian for a fleeting moment before he settled onto the couch's welcoming embrace. Sinking into the plush cushions, the soft fabric cocooned him as he found a comfortable position. His mind continued to race, but he willed himself to focus on the present, on the movie night that Grian had meticulously prepared.

Grian returned, carefully balancing a tray laden with snacks and two mugs in his hands. Their eyes briefly met before he settled down beside Mumbo. "I hope you like popcorn," Grian said with a playful grin, popping open a bag and filling a bowl. The proximity between them felt both natural and nerve-wracking, a dance of contradictions.

Mumbo tried to focus on the movies, on the simple act of spending time with Grian, but his mind continued to wander, replaying their interactions, analyzing every word and gesture. "Popcorn is perfect," he replied, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Grian settled next to him on the couch starting the movie, their shoulders lightly brushing against each other. The warmth of Grian's presence provided a sense of comfort, grounding Mumbo in the moment. Grian handed him a bowl of popcorn, their fingers grazing for a brief moment. Mumbo's heart skipped a beat, but he tried to play it off as he took a handful of popcorn, popping it into his mouth.

As they settled deeper into their couch, Mumbo nervously glanced at Grian, who had snuggled up next to him, their shoulders brushing lightly. The soft glow of the TV illuminated their faces, casting clear cut shadows. Grian's closeness sent a wave of warmth through him, and he tried to focus on the movie he had chosen rather than his racing heartbeat. However, it was challenging to concentrate with Grian's hand occasionally brushing against Mumbo's arm, as if by accident but feeling far too intentional.

Lost in his thoughts, Mumbo realized he had been absentmindedly munching on popcorn without paying much attention to the movie. He quickly refocused his attention on the screen, trying to follow the plot and catch up with the characters.

Turns out the concept was pretty simple. Fourteen people were each paired to each other, soulmates or something, and could share each other's pain. Mumbo couldn’t tell you who the main characters were (Though if he had to guess he’s say the girl who scarily reminded him of Pearl) or what the plot was, but it was pretty entertaining nonetheless.

As the “plot” unfolded, Mumbo noticed that Grian occasionally stole glances in his direction as well. The fleeting eye contact sent a jolt of electricity through Mumbo's veins, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between them. It was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, the anticipation building with each stolen gaze. He really tried his best to focus on the movie.

-

Finally, the movie came to a close, the credits rolling across the screen. Mumbo couldn't fully grasp the plot or the ultimate goal, but it seemed the girl ended up winning, or so he assumed. Grian turned to Mumbo, his eyes partially closed but brimming with excitement and curiosity. "What did you think?" he asked, his tone almost teasing.

Mumbo hesitated, because in all honesty, he had no idea what to think. "It was... different," he finally replied, his voice soft but genuine. "I can't say I fully understood the plot, but it was definitely entertaining.”

Grian let out a small yawn, his eyes flickering with a hint of sleepiness. "You know what? I have another one in mind," he said, his voice slightly hushed. He flicked through the movie library on the screen, "It’s my all-time favorite and by far the worst romance I’ve ever seen in my life." He chuckled softly. “It’s about this pair of… you know I don’t think they ever say if they’re researchers or students or what, but anyways, this pair of people go searching for Amelia Earhart. I won't spoil it for you because there's no way you'll guess what happens, but I promise you'll love it." His gaze locked onto Mumbo. "Trust me."

Mumbo's heart swelled at how Grian looked at him “I can’t say I do," he replied, a fond smile gracing his lips. "But I’m ready to see this trainwreck. I'll keep you entertained with my comments on how unrealistic it is." He remarked playfully, trying to lighten the moment.

Grian's sleepy eyes sparkled with amusement, and he shifted even closer to Mumbo, their shoulders once again touching. "I'm counting on your commentary to keep me entertained," he said, a note of affection in his voice.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of their breathing and the faint music from the movie enveloping them. Grian couldn't stifle a yawn, his weariness evident from the long day. The allure of the cozy couch seemed to beckon him to surrender to sleep. He nestled closer to Mumbo, seeking warmth and solace. Grian fought against the heaviness of his eyelids, occasionally blinking a little longer than usual. Mumbo couldn't help but find it adorable, his heart swelling with affection. He stole glances at Grian, admiring how effortlessly attractive he looked even in his sleepy state.

His mind raced, grappling with the overwhelming emotions that threatened to spill over. He knew he had to say something, to address the unspoken tension between them, but the words eluded him. Grian's hand inched closer to Mumbo's, their fingers brushing against each other. His heart raced, a surge of anticipation mingling with the lingering doubt. He glanced at Grian, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes, but found himself lost in their warmth.

Unbeknownst to Grian, Mumbo felt his friend's weight leaning against him and glanced down. Grian's head rested gently on Mumbo's shoulder, his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. Unable to resist the tender sight, He delicately lifted his arm and wrapped it around Grian, creating a cocoon of safety and affection. Grian shifted slightly, finding the new embrace even more comfortable, his breathing steadying as sleep started to claim him.

Grian's head nestled against Mumbo's shoulder as he fell into a deep sleep, and his steady breaths tickled Mumbo's skin, sending delightful shivers down his spine. A soft smile tugged at Mumbo's lips as he observed Grian's peaceful slumber, feeling a surge of warmth and affection swelling within his chest.

Mumbo gently shifted his position, ensuring that Grian remained comfortably nestled against him. The touch of their bodies, the shared warmth, and the unspoken tenderness that filled the room made his heart skip a beat. It was as if the universe conspired to reveal the depth of his affection for Grian.

Mumbo's fingertips gently traced patterns on Grian's arm, their touch dancing with a blend of familiarity and newfound affection. A delightful tingling sensation radiated through his veins as he watched Grian stir slightly in his sleep, nuzzling closer. It was as if Grian instinctively sought the comfort and security that Mumbo's presence provided.

A soft sigh escaped Mumbo's lips, his fingertips gently brushing against the curve of Grian's cheek. The warmth of his touch radiated through his being, igniting a cascade of emotions he could no longer ignore. He marveled at the tenderness that swelled within him, the vulnerability of opening his heart to this newfound feeling. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if acknowledging the significance of this moment. Mumbo's eyes traced the gentle rise and fall of Grian's chest, his own breath falling in sync with the rhythm of their connection. The world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them intertwined in a quiet sanctuary of affection.

Who would have guessed such a small moment would be the catalyst for his awareness?

It wasn't a thunderous realization that rocked his world, but rather a gentle whisper in his soul. He’s not surprised, in hindsight it had been a long time coming. Mumbo had always cared deeply for Grian, treasuring their friendship and the special bond they shared. But now, he saw Grian in a different light—a light that illuminated the subtle nuances of their connection.

With each beat of his heart, Mumbo felt it expand within his chest, his mind finally acknowledging the truth he had been evading. It was more than nerves or mere friendship that flowed through his veins. It ran deeper than that—something he can no longer deny.

He was in love.

Mumbo's heart swelled with each beat, his mind finally coming to terms with the truth he had been avoiding for so long. It wasn't just nervousness or friendship that coursed through his veins. It was something deeper, it always had been.

He was in love with Grian.

As he watched Grian sleep, Mumbo's gaze lingered on the peaceful expression on his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. A rush of warmth flooded his being, overpowering any remnants of doubt. The realization settled within him, spreading like wildfire, and he couldn't ignore it any longer.

The way Grian's presence made him feel, the butterflies that danced in his stomach whenever they were together, it all made sense now. The longing in his heart when they were apart, the racing of his pulse whenever their hands brushed or their eyes met, it was love.

Mumbo couldn't help but smile softly, despite the bittersweet ache that accompanied his newfound understanding. It was a beautiful yet complicated thing, capable of both exhilarating joy and heart-wrenching vulnerability. But in that moment, as Grian slept peacefully against him, Mumbo knew that it was worth every moment of uncertainty and fear.

A hushed curse slipped from Mumbo's lips as he processed the magnitude of his revelation. "Oh, shit," he muttered under his breath, his mind quietly grappling with the sheer weight of emotions that flooded his being.

The movie playing on the screen became a distant blur as Mumbo's thoughts fixated solely on the one person who had captured his heart. Grian had woven himself into the fabric of Mumbo's existence, and the mere thought of a future without him was unimaginable.

As Mumbo delicately brushed a lock of hair away from Grian's peaceful face, he couldn't suppress the soft smile that graced his lips. The weight of his newfound emotions danced within him, mingling with excitement and a hint of trepidation. He knew that crossing the threshold from friendship to something more could be a delicate path to tread, but the depth of his feelings couldn't be ignored.

As the room cocooned them in a cozy embrace, Mumbo tightened his hold around Grian, reveling in the simple pleasure of their shared warmth. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he whispered into the silence, as if sharing a secret with the universe itself, "Don’t you dare make me fall in love with you, Grian," allowing the words to settle deep within his soul.

Grian stirred slightly at Mumbo's words, a sleepy smile gracing his lips. He murmured something unintelligible before settling back into his sleep. Mumbo's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and affection. Perhaps some things were better left unsaid for now, allowing the unspoken emotions to linger and grow. With a gentle sigh, Mumbo settled further into the couch, his arm securely wrapped around Grian. The room was filled with the soft glow of the TV screen, the muffled sounds of the movie providing a soothing backdrop.

As the night wore on, Mumbo found himself falling deeper into the comfortable rhythm they had established. As the movie came to an end, He felt a mix of reluctance. He dreaded the moment when the night would come to a close, when they would have to face the reality outside the cocoon they had created. But he also longed for the chance to be alone with his thoughts, to unravel the complexities of his own heart.

As the credits rolled, Mumbo remained still, savoring the peacefulness of the moment. Grian's breathing had become slow and steady, the rise and fall of his chest a gentle lullaby. Mumbo could barely bring himself to disturb the tranquility that enveloped them, but it was late and he needed to get home as much as it pained him.

With a tender smile, Mumbo gently shifted Grian, supporting his weight as he moved to sit up. Grian blinked sleepily, his gaze meeting Mumbo's with a hint of confusion. "Movie's over, sleepyhead," he whispered, his voice brimming with warmth.

Grian rubbed his eyes, his expression gradually registering the end of the movie. "Oh, right," he mumbled, stretching his limbs and yawning. "I must have dozed off." He blinked at Mumbo, his gaze softening. "Did you like it?"

Mumbo chuckled softly, realizing he couldn't recall a single thing that happened in the movie. "Loved it," he replied, his voice gentle and sincere.

Grian's lips curved into a fond smile, and he stretched his hand towards Mumbo. "Help me up?"

Gratefully accepting Grian's hand, Mumbo's fingers intertwined with his, relishing the brief contact. He effortlessly helped Grian to his feet, treasuring the fleeting moment of their hands touching. As Grian stood, a yawn escaped his lips, reminding them both of the late hour.

"I should probably get going," Mumbo said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "It's getting late, and I don't want to overstay my welcome."

Grian's expression mirrored Mumbo's reluctance, but he nodded understandingly. "Yeah, it is getting late," he replied, a hint of disappointment lacing his words. "But thank you for coming over, Mumbo. Tonight… it was fun."

Mumbo felt a rush of warmth at Grian's words, his heart swelling with affection. "It meant a lot to me too," he admitted at Grian’s unspoken words, his voice filled with sincerity. "Even if I served as your human pillow for most of it."

Grian's smile brightened, and he walked Mumbo towards the front door with an embarrassed huff. "I'm glad to hear that," he said softly, his gaze lingering on Mumbo. "We should do this again sometime."

Mumbo's heart skipped a beat, hope and anticipation blooming within him. "I'd love that," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

As they reached the front door, Grian opened it, allowing a sliver of the outside world to seep in. Mumbo turned towards him, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. The unspoken emotions between them hung in the air, he felt the urge to lean in and kiss Grian. The warmth in his chest urged him forward, but he hesitated. The weight of his realization and the uncertainty of Grian's feelings held him back.

Instead, Mumbo mustered a smile and took a step back, creating a safe distance between them. "Goodnight, Grian," he said, his voice gentle but slightly tinged with restraint.

Grian's expression mirrored Mumbo's, a mix of surprise and disappointment flickering across his face. "Goodnight, Mumbo," he replied, his voice soft but lacking the usual sparkle.

They exchanged a lingering gaze, both aware of the unspoken emotions that lingered between them. But Mumbo chose to respect the boundaries and uncertainties that existed.

With a final nod, Mumbo turned and made his way down the grandeur street, the echoes of their movie night playing in his mind. He couldn't help but feel a sense of bittersweetness, a mix of longing and contentment.

As he walked, he reflected on the depth of his feelings and the delicate balance of their friendship. It was a precious bond that he cherished, and he didn't want to jeopardize it by rushing into something that might not be reciprocated.

The night air kissed Mumbo's skin, the quiet streets offering solace as he navigated his thoughts. He reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Mumbo, calling me in the middle of the night? This better be good," Pearl said groggily, her voice laced with a mix of concern and amusement.

Mumbo chuckled softly, feeling a sense of comfort in hearing Pearl's voice. "Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, Pearl," he replied, unable to hide the teasing tone in his voice. "I just needed to talk to someone who won't make fun of me... too much."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Pearl burst into laughter. "Oh, Mumbo, my dear, you know I can't promise that," she said, her voice tangled with amusement. "But go ahead, spill. What's going on?"

Mumbo took a deep breath, his voice tinged with a mix of nerves and excitement. "I... I think I'm in love with Grian," he confessed, his words coming out in a rush.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Pearl let out a squeal of delight. "Oh my goodness- Finally! Good on ya!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with triumph.

Pearl's exclamation echoed through the phone, a mix of genuine happiness and playful teasing. He couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, feeling a sense of relief and validation. "Finally? You saw this coming?" he asked, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his voice.

Pearl let out a melodramatic sigh. "Oh, I saw it from miles away! It was really only a matter of time," she exclaimed, her excitement palpable even through the phone.

Mumbo shook his head in amusement, grateful for Pearl's support and insight. "I guess it was more obvious than I thought," he admitted, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "But what do I do now? I- I don’t want to ruin anything." Anxiety tinged his voice.

Pearl's tone turned more thoughtful as she offered her advice, “Mumbo we’ve been friends for how long and you still come to me for advice? You should know I’m rubbish at anything that’s not writing… wait… hold on…” She said suddenly trailing off with excitement.

“...What.” Mumbo asked hesitantly.

He could practically hear the grin on her face. “Reckon you’d be up for some song writing?”

Chapter Text

“Pearl this is too hard,” Mumbo lamented, his frustration bubbling over, throwing a mini-fit as he slumped on the table.

Her gaze met his, devoid of sympathy but brimming with unwavering determination. "Never said it was easy," she retorted, a playful glint in her eye. She reached for a cup of coffee, offering it as a lifeline to a stressed-out college student. "Consider it a learning experience, a glimpse into what your writers go through," she teased.

Mumbo groaned, his head falling heavily onto the table. "I don't know what I'm doing," he confessed, muffled.

Pearl's sigh was a mix of empathy and encouragement. Seizing a chair, she settled beside him, her presence a comforting anchor in his stormy sea of emotions. "Come on, show me what you have," she coaxed gently.

Mumbo reluctantly slid a piece of paper to her. The two of them, mostly Mumbo as Pearl was busy setting up the cafe for the day, worked out the melody earlier. If they were wanting to make an instrumental he would have been done ages ago. But unfortunately for Mumbo, Pearl called him a quitter and he couldn’t have that. So instead he’s spent the last hour trying to think of lyrics as a non-lyricist, and failing miserably.

“Oh- Wow- That’s… It’s great!” Pearl forced a smile, as she studied Mumbo's attempts at lyrics, trying to find a way to salvage the creative process. She knew the man had a lot on his mind, and the pressure of expressing his feelings through song wasn't making it any easier.

Mumbo's glare hinted at his skepticism, and he couldn't help but respond with sarcasm. "Thanks for the confidence," he quipped.

Pearl chuckled warmly, her laughter reaching her eyes as she regarded him seriously. "Mumbo, you're overthinking this," she said gently, a soft hand resting on his shoulder. “Just write from your heart. It doesn't have to be perfect. Let the words flow naturally.”

He sighed, attempting to steady his nerves, the words of his heart mingling with his insecurities. "You're right," he conceded. "I just... I want it to be real, you know? Genuine. I don't want it to sound forced or clichéd."

Pearl nodded, understanding his concerns. "I get it, but remember, the best songs come from the heart. Just write what you feel, and it will be genuine," she reassured him with a tender smile. "And let's face it, you're a bit of a cliché yourself sometimes, so embrace it. It's part of your charm."

Mumbo chuckled as he picked up his pen and started jotting down his thoughts, his emotions. He started writing, his hand gliding across the paper as if the pen were guided by an invisible force. Everything about Grian just flooded into him. He jotted down their first meeting, the way Grian's laughter lit up the room, the shared events that had brought them even closer. With each stroke of the pen, Mumbo found himself delving into the nuances of their relationship - the inside jokes that made them laugh until their stomachs hurt, the quiet moments of comfort they shared without needing to say a word, the harmony of their souls intertwined, and his own reluctance at letting himself be in love.

Pearl watched Mumbo intently, her heart swelling with pride for her friend. She knew how deeply Mumbo cared for Grian, and seeing him pour his emotions onto the paper was a beautiful sight to behold. She couldn't help but occasionally slide a fresh cup of coffee or tea his way, offering silent encouragement and a gentle nudge in the right direction when needed. But mostly, she watched in awe as Mumbo proved himself to be not just a competent writer, but a pretty good one

As Mumbo continued to write, the coffee shop seemed to fade away entirely. The only things that mattered were the pen dancing across the paper and the flood of memories of Grian consuming his mind and heart. In this moment, vulnerability became Mumbo's ally as he daringly laid bare his love with words that had been imprisoned within him, unspoken until now. Time seemed to bend to his will, losing all meaning as he delved deeper into the creative process. The clattering of coffee cups and the distant hum of customers faded into a mere backdrop, a soft accompaniment to the symphony of emotions within him.

The process was both cathartic and terrifying. The lyrics were like an open window to his soul, allowing his deepest emotions to spill out onto the street. But amidst the vulnerability, there was also a sense of release, as if he had finally unlocked a long-closed door to his innermost feelings. After what felt like an eternity, Mumbo finally set down his pen, his eyes lingering on the completed lyrics before him.

Eventually, his gaze shifted to Pearl, who all but jumped from her spot behind the bar, running to him eagerly to read what he had written. A mixture of excitement and nerves fluttered in his chest as he watched her eyes scan his lyrics.

Pearl's smile grew wider with each line she read, and when she finished, she looked up at Mumbo with genuine admiration. “Well, look at you, Mr. Writer,” she teased playfully, her voice exuding confidence. “Coming after my job, ey?”

Mumbo blushed at the praise, a mix of relief and uncertainty washing over him. "You really think it's good?" he asked, his voice tinged with self-doubt.

"Absolutely," Pearl replied, her hand reaching out to give him a reassuring squeeze. "You've poured your heart into these words, it’s perfect Mumbo." Her eyes scan the words again, “You have to play this for me when you show Grian.”

A nervous laugh escaped Mumbo's lips, his heart racing at the mere thought. "Oh, no. There's no way I'm showing Grian any of this," he replied with a mix of amusement and apprehension.

Pearl raised an eyebrow, her teasing smile persisting. "Come on now! You've poured your soul in these lyrics. Don't let them go to waste," she insisted, her voice gentle but resolute.

"Watch me," Mumbo retorted, his fear and vulnerability shining through. He sighs when Pearl gives him an unamused look, "Look, I know, I know. But what if he doesn't feel the same way?" he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to risk what we have."

Pearl's expression softened as she reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I get it, Mumbo. Rejection is scary, and it's natural to be afraid. But you'll never know unless you take the chance," she said, her voice filled with wisdom. Her eyes sparkled as she added playfully, "Grian's a good guy. Even if he doesn't feel the same, I'm sure he'll handle it with care and understanding. And if he does feel the same..." She let the sentence hang, leaving Mumbo to imagine the possibilities.

A heavy sigh escaped Mumbo's lips as his blush deepened. Pearl's words resonated within him, the weight of regret pushing against his fear. He knew she was right, and the thought of not expressing his true feelings weighed heavily on his heart. But the fear of potential consequences held him back.

"You're right," Mumbo finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I just... I don't think it's the right time to tell him. It's nothing Grian needs to hear right now, all right?"

Just as the words left his mouth, a sudden presence startled him, causing him to jump in the air.

“What’s nothing I need to hear?”

A shorter man had appeared, wearing a dark hat, mask, and sunglasses, but his dirty blond hair was unmistakable. Grian, stood there with curiosity, having caught the tail end of their conversation. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as Mumbo's heart pounded in his chest, unsure of what Grian had overheard.

In a flurry of nerves, Mumbo's hands instinctively flew to cover his precious lyrics, hastily stuffing them into a folder. With a nervous laugh, he greeted Grian, attempting to mask the unease that surged within him. "Hey! When did you get here?" His eyes darted around, searching for any sign that Grian might have glimpsed his words.

Though hidden behind his sunglasses, Mumbo could see the curious mischievous glint in Grian's eyes. "Oh no, you don't. What are you not showing me?" Grian playfully lunged for the folder, prompting Mumbo to hold it just out of his reach.

“Absolutely not,” He says, as Grian fails to reach for the papers.

Grian persisted, a teasing grin on his face. "Oh, come on, Mumbo! Don't leave me hanging like that!" he urged, trying to pull Mumbo's arm down while calling for Pearl's help.

Pearl looked on with amusement, her laughter filling the air. "No can do, bud. This is all you," she teased before getting back to work on an order.

“Mumbo!” Grian whined,

“Grian!” Mumbo echoed, holding the folder protectively against his chest.

Finally relenting with a huff, Grian leaned back. "I'm going to hear that... thing. Just you wait," he declared with the determination of a stubborn toddler.

Mumbo chuckled, knowing that Grian's persistence could be unstoppable when he set his mind to something. He stashed the lyrics in his bag, clearing up the area, and preparing to leave. "I bet you will," he said highly doubtfully. With his bag securely on his shoulder, he made his way towards the exit.

"Leaving so soon?" Grian teased, walking over to their booth.

Mumbo chuckled, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling inside him. "Yup, I have to head out for... a meeting. Yup, a meeting. I'll see you around! Bye, Pearl!"

Mumbo's heart raced as he made his way out of the coffee shop, Grian's playful words still echoing in his mind. He couldn't help but smile at Grian's antics, feeling a mix of happiness and nervousness at the prospect of what he had written being discovered. But there was no way he could stay there with Grian right now.

As he walked down the familiar streets, Mumbo couldn't shake the excitement and fear that bubbled within him. He had poured his heart into those lyrics, and a part of him wanted Grian to hear them, to understand the depth of his feelings. But the fear of rejection and the potential impact on their friendship weighed heavily on his mind.

As he continued walking, he found himself lost in his thoughts. The lyrics he had written were a testament to the connection he shared with Grian, the feelings that had blossomed over time. He stopped by a nearby park, finding a quiet bench to sit on. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the surroundings. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. His mind was still a whirlwind of emotions, but he knew he needed to find the right moment to share his feelings with Grian.

As he sat there, he pulled out his phone again and opened the notes app. He started reading through the lyrics he had written, feeling the emotions behind each word. A mix of excitement and apprehension filled him as he imagined Grian's reaction to the song.

Mumbo felt an itch to work on the song, tweaking the melody and refining the lyrics. He wanted it to be perfect, a genuine expression of his love for Grian. He hadn’t even played the full thing yet… So along with the sunset, he made his way down the familiar path to the studio. It shouldn’t be too long. Just a quick little play of the full thing, maybe a couple of tweaks and that’s all. In and out.

-

As Mumbo left the coffee shop, Grian couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment that lingered in the air. He felt a sense of longing, he had wanted to spend more time with Mumbo but was denied the opportunity. Restlessness took hold of him, and he found himself wandering back to the counter, hoping to distract himself from the void left by Mumbo's departure.

As he returned to the counter, Pearl noticed the slight change in Grian's demeanor, and her instincts told her that he might be feeling a little off. "What's got you looking all pouty?" Pearl asked, her tone teasing but also genuinely concerned.

Grian shrugged, trying to brush off his feelings. "Nothing.” He said grumpily, “Mumbo just had to leave for some meeting," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But the truth was, he missed Mumbo already.

Pearl raised an eyebrow, sensing that there might be more to Grian's mood than he was letting on. "You sure that's all?" she prodded, her eyes studying him intently.

Grian hesitated for a moment before deciding to confide in Pearl. She quickly became one of his closest friends, and he trusted her judgment. "Well, it's just that... I don't know, I kind of wanted to spend more time with him. I like hanging out with Mumbo, you know?" he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

Pearl gave him a knowing smile, "Oh, I see how it is. You like Mumbo, don't you?"

Grian's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he sputtered, "What? No! I mean, yeah, we're friends, and I like hanging out with him, but it's not like that." Okay, he trusts her judgment, but only Scar gets to know about his crush.

Pearl chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Uh-huh, sure," she playfully retorted. Her excitement bubbling beneath the surface, she couldn't help but share the little secret with Grian. "Well, you might be interested to know that Mumbo was working on something really special before he left."

Curiosity instantly gripped Grian as he leaned in, eager to know more. "Oh? What is it?" he asked, doing his best to maintain a casual facade, even though his interest was genuine.

Pearl shrugged, trying to play it cool but not quite able to contain her excitement. "Oh, just a little love song he wrote," she said nonchalantly, watching Grian's reaction carefully.

Grian's eyes widened in surprise, and his heart seemed to skip a beat. Envy and hope mingled within him as he processed the revelation. "A love song? That's... unexpected," he repeated, striving to mask the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Seeing right through Grian's attempt at composure, Pearl chuckled warmly. "Oh, come on, Grian. You know how talented Mumbo is when it comes to music. It's quite a beautiful song," she encouraged.

Grian shifted in his seat, his emotions swirling in a tempestuous dance. The notion that Mumbo had penned a love song sparked countless possibilities in his mind. Could it be about someone special in his life? Could it be about... him? He was torn between excitement and trepidation, not wanting to raise his hopes too high without knowing for sure. "Yeah, I'm sure it's great," Grian replied with a forced smile, concealing the storm of feelings that raged within him.

Grian's mind raced as he tried to think of who Mumbo could have possibly written a love song for. He knew they were close friends, but could there be something more? The possibility both excited and terrified him. Before Grian could ask any more questions, Pearl's phone rang, distracting them both. She excused herself to take the call, leaving Grian alone with his thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness that washed over him.

-

It was late. And Grian was tired. But he couldn’t sleep.

And he honestly didn’t want to be home right now. It was too big. Too quiet. Too empty.

The streets were deserted, and the city's usual buzz had given way to a haunting silence. Grian didn't want to venture into crowded places alone, so he decided on a late-night walk, not even realizing he was being led towards the studio. His mind seemed to be guiding him, seeking solace in the familiar surroundings.

As he strolled through the moonlit streets, he found himself drawn to the studio without even realizing it. His subconscious guided him, seeking familiarity and comfort. He hailed a black cab, discreetly asking to be dropped off near the studio. Once outside, he paused to admire the night sky, its beauty only partially obscured by the city's lights.

The last few days have been… a lot. As fun as being in love, teasing Mumbo, getting to hang out with his favorite people while doing what he loves gets. It’s perfect. If he doesn’t mind the aching in his heart everytime Mumbo looks away from him. Or the fact that he pushes and pulls away. Or the fact that Grian doesn’t even know if Mumbo feels a single ounce of reciprocation for his feelings. Mumbo understands Grian on a level he can’t even understand himself. If Grian can’t even tell if he likes him back… Would he even be good enough for him?

His mind couldn't escape the lingering thoughts of the mentioned love song Mumbo had been working on. The possibility that it might be about him tugged at his heart, filling him with both hope and trepidation. The idea of reciprocated feelings was both alluring and daunting. Did he deserve someone as wonderful as Mumbo? Did Mumbo feel the same way about him? Uncertainty gnawed at him, reminding him of his own insecurities.

Leaning against the studio's wall, he sought comfort in its familiarity. The night was more than just darkness and silence; it was a canvas on which his soul painted its most profound desires and deepest fears. He clung to the hope that someday, somehow, Mumbo would understand the depths of his affection and return it in kind.

But for right now, he’d just head inside. He swiped it hard and the door clicked quietly, granting him access inside the building. It was always an odd sight to see the studio this desolate. No one aside from the occasional janitor in the building. If there ever was anyone else there, the doors were locked tight as they worked alone. It usually would be dead silent.

So it was extremely odd to hear the faint notes of a piano echoing through the halls.

The sound of a piano, soft and ethereal, caught his attention, floating through the empty halls like a siren's call. Intrigue got the better of Grian's curiosity as he sought the distant sound of the piano. He followed the enchanting melody, allowing it to draw him deeper into the studio. The notes were hauntingly beautiful, resonating with his emotions and adding a bittersweet touch to the already heavy thoughts swirling in his mind.

As he moved silently through the hallways, he discovered the source of the music. The studio's piano room had its door slightly ajar, and the soft glow of dim lighting spilled out into the corridor. Cautiously, he pushed the door open and peeked inside.

There, at the grand piano, sat Mumbo, his usually lively and humorous demeanor replaced by an expression of intense focus. His fingers danced gracefully across the ivory keys, producing the heart-stirring melody that had captivated Grian from afar.

Grian's heart skipped a beat, unsure whether to retreat and give Mumbo his privacy or to stay. However, he hesitated at the entrance to the main room, choosing to stay hidden outside, just out of sight, and listen from there.

[Don’t You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love With You - Kaden MacKay]

As Grian stood there, he listened intently to the melody that flowed from the piano. But as the song continued, he noticed something unusual – a voice gently joining in with the piano, singing with a vulnerability he had never heard before.

Grian's heart skipped a beat as he realized it was Mumbo's voice filling the room with a longing tune. It was raw, emotional. And as the lyrics unfolded, Grian's breath caught in his throat.

“Don't you dare,” Mumbo's voice crooned softly, “Make me fall in love with you. Don’t you dare, enchant me with those eyes.”

As Grian listened, the hauntingly beautiful melody continued to fill the studio, weaving its way into his soul. He was captivated by the raw emotion in Mumbo's voice, but he couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness as the lyrics unfolded. They spoke of unspoken feelings, of yearning for something more, and the fear of taking that leap of faith.

Grian's mind began to race, and he found himself connecting the lyrics to his own feelings. The words resonated with his innermost thoughts and desires, leaving him breathless and overwhelmed.

“And I still need reminders of why it’s unwise to stare… So don’t you dare.”

The notes seemed to carry a weight, as if they held a secret that was meant only for Grian to uncover. He tried to remain composed, but his heart thumped loudly in his chest, accompanying the flood of emotions swirling within him.

Every line of the song seemed to paint a picture of their interactions, their inside jokes, the moments they had shared together. It was as if Mumbo had somehow glimpsed into the depths of Grian's heart and put those emotions into words.

“And stop making me miss you. ‘Cause you leaving’s for the best.”

The music continued to fill the air, wrapping around Grian like a comforting embrace. He found himself drawn closer to Mumbo, unable to resist the magnetic pull of the emotion conveyed through the piano's notes.

“...So don’t you dare.”

Lost in the melody, Grian leaned closer against the wall, only to picture Mumbo playing with a mixture of awe and longing. He couldn't help but wonder if the music held a message, a hidden confession from Mumbo's heart to his own. But perhaps he was reading too much into it, and this was merely Mumbo's way of expressing himself through music… but he could still hope.

He could practically hear an orchestra accompanying Mumbo as the music continued to play and Grian found himself overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. He felt a mixture of joy and pain, knowing that the person he cared deeply for was just a few feet away, yet seemingly distant in their emotions. It was a moment of vulnerability, where he allowed himself to truly acknowledge his own feelings, no longer able to hide from them.

His heart ached as he thought about his unrequited affection for Mumbo. The silence of the night seemed to amplify his loneliness, and he couldn't help but question his own worthiness. Did he deserve to be loved in return? Was he good enough for someone as wonderful as Mumbo?

As the notes continued to fill the room, Grian slid down to the floor, resting his head against the wall. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and find solace in the music.

“And I know it’s all so shallow, but a shallow cut still stings. And before my heart becomes Amelia’s heir, I need to clip its wings.”

Memories of their time together flooded his mind – the laughter they shared, the late-night conversations, and the way Mumbo always seemed to understand him like no one else did. It was then that Grian realized just how deeply he cared for Mumbo, and how much he wanted to be with him.

“And don’t you dare leave me still in love with you. Nothing’s fair when love is war.”

As the song approached its end, the melody only seemed to intensify, the notes becoming more deliberate and measured. Mumbo's voice took on a bittersweet tone, and the lyrics took a turn, becoming more direct and poignant. It was in those final verses that Grian's realization began to solidify – this song was about him.

Oh my god.

The weight of that revelation hit him with full force, and his heart pounded in his chest. Elation mixed with trepidation as he absorbed the gravity of what he was hearing. Because on one hand, OH MY GOD Mumbo likes him! Not only that, he used music, giving voice to emotions that had remained unspoken for far too long. But on the other hand, oh my god Mumbo likes him. The fear of what this meant for their friendship and the uncertain road ahead loomed large. Because Grian still didn’t want to lose this.

“Don’t you dare.”

The words hit Grian with a mixture of tenderness and sadness. It was as if Mumbo was acknowledging the unspoken attraction between them, while also acknowledging the complexities that came with it. The vulnerability in those lines made Grian's heart ache, knowing that Mumbo was grappling with his own emotions just as much as he was.

As the last few notes lingered in the air, Grian's emotions were in turmoil. He thought about going inside, about baring his heart to Mumbo right then and there. He wanted to rush into the room, to embrace Mumbo and let him know that he felt the same way, that he had been carrying his own unspoken affection. But he was scared – scared of what might happen if he revealed his feelings and they weren't actually reciprocated, scared of risking their close friendship just for the possibility of something more. He feared rejection more than anything else. It was easier to hide behind playful banter and friendly teasing than to expose the depths of his feelings.

He found himself torn between the urge to be honest with Mumbo and the fear of shattering the fragile balance they had. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, and Grian knew that he couldn't keep suppressing his emotions forever.

As the final note of the song faded, leaving a poignant silence in its wake, Grian took a deep breath. Tears welled up in his eyes, leaving the studio in silence once again. Grian took a moment to collect himself, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill over. His heart was a whirlwind of emotions, and he knew he couldn't keep this to himself any longer.

Quietly, he retreated from the doorway and made his way back down the hallway, giving himself time to process everything he had just heard. He couldn't ignore the significance of Mumbo's song, and he couldn't hide from his own feelings any longer.

His steps were slow and contemplative as he made his way back to the entrance of the studio. The night air felt cooler against his skin, but his heart burned with newfound determination.

He found a bench outside the studio and sat down, gazing up at the moon once more. The same moon that had witnessed his doubts and fears earlier now served as a source of solace and comfort.

…and a small smile grew on his face. And his heart leapt and he felt himself floating. And he pushed his arms out to the sky in celebration. “YES!” He giggled to himself finally feeling the euphoria and endorphins flood his body.

The smile on his face grew wider as he imagined the possibilities that lay ahead. Maybe Mumbo felt the same way, or maybe they would navigate this new territory together, supporting each other every step of the way. And the thought made the night shine brighter as words and feelings and ideas flooded his brain.

He needs to get home. He needs to write. He’s got an idea.

Chapter Text

“Scar, I need your help.” Grian declared as soon as Scar opened the door. He walked in like a man on a mission, going straight to Scar’s kitchen drawers that contain more junk than actual kitchen appliances.

Scar perked up immediately, eyes lighting up with mischief, “Oh I like the sound of that! What is it? Song brainstorm? A break in?” He paused, scooting up to Grian a sly look on his face, “A Mumbo confession?” He asked, bouncing his eyebrows.

Grian eyed him carefully, “Are you on board for all of those?”

Scar laughed, “Grian, do you even know me?”

He rolled his eyes searching through Scar’s drawers. “Brilliant, because we’re doing all three. Where is your screwdriver?” He muttered that last part, diving into another drawer.

As Grian rummaged through his drawers, Scar playfully feigned offense, "Hey now, my kitchen may be a bit chaotic, but they're not that bad! Ah, there it is." Scar pulled out a multi-tool screwdriver from a nearby drawer and handed it to Grian. "So, spill the details! What's the plan?"

Grian grinned at Scar, he’s not even the tiniest bit surprised at his friend’s agreeableness as he lifts himself up on Scar’s countertop, fidgeting with the newly discovered screwdriver. “Alright, Step one…”

-

Mumbo was a bit confused when a recording session appeared on his schedule. He’s almost been in constant contact with Grian recently. (He doesn't understand why Grian suddenly spiked in text messages, but it’s a welcome change in Mumbo’s book) Yet, not once did Grian even mention a new song.

And sure, Mumbo might be a bit bitter. I mean, he helped him with the last one, did he do that badly? Or maybe Grian found someone better to work with. Not that he cares. Of course he shouldn’t. Grian can do whatever he wants, he’s his own person after all.

…

Okay maybe Mumbo is a bit jealous, but can you blame him? Especially when he messaged Grian about the sudden session to get a quickly typed, “Oh it was a spur of the moment thing.” message back.

Nothing significant has happened between them, nothing Mumbo knew about anyways, so what ‘spur of the moment’ thing could have had Grian not only write, but be happy with a song so quickly? (But it could just be the sudden awareness of his feelings making him looking into everything a million times more carefully)

His mind raced with these thoughts as he walked to the studio. He went through the motions. Swiping his card, turning down the hallways to his room, unlocking his door, putting his bag down as he began to set everything up. His brain was on autopiolet as he stepped into the booth, making sure the mic was in position and ready to use for Grian. He did his usual test, pressing record on his computer and speaking into it to make sure it recorded, although he did have to awkwardly bend down to do it at Grian’s height relative to the mic. And like always, it was fine.

As Mumbo continued setting up the recording equipment, his thoughts continued to whirl around in his head. He couldn't help but replay various moments with Grian, wondering if he had missed any signs or hints that his friend was working on a new song. The fact that Grian had seemingly kept it a secret made Mumbo feel a little hurt, even though he knew he shouldn't take it personally.

"Maybe he thought I was too busy or wouldn't be interested," Mumbo mused to himself, adjusting the microphone for Grian's voice. "But we've been working together before, so why wouldn't he mention this one too?"

As he waited for Grian to arrive, Mumbo found himself checking his phone again, glancing at the messages they had exchanged recently. Maybe he was just overthinking it, but his insecurities were getting the best of him.

Suddenly something through the door window caught his eye. He turned to see nothing. He was bored and honestly needed the distraction, so he went to investigate. Only to open the door and see Scar there, face taken aback as his eyes struggled to focus on Mumbo’s.

“Mumbo! Heeeey,” He said nervously, hands fiddling with the armrests on his wheelchair.

Mumbo was surprised to see Scar there, especially with the slightly unfocused look in his eyes. "Hey, Scar. Is everything alright?" Mumbo asked, concern evident in his voice. He’s known Scar for a while now, and while Scar could be mischievous and playful, he didn't usually show up looking like this.

Scar scratched the back of his head, chuckling awkwardly, "Oh, yeah, everything's fine. I just came to, uh, borrow some tape from you. You know how it is, always in need of tape for one thing or another." He tried to play it off casually, but Mumbo could tell something was off.

"Tape, huh?" Mumbo raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. "Sure, I've got some in here." He gestured for Scar to come inside the studio, wondering if there was something else on his friend's mind. "Take as much as you need."

Scar hesitated wheeling himself in, looking around the studio as if he was trying to find something else, but Mumbo couldn't quite put his finger on it. “You know, I was wondering if you could grab it and come… help me with what I need it for?” He said rather oddly.

Mumbo narrowed his eyes, but went to grab it anyways, following Scar out as he closed the door. “Sure… Whatever you need mate.” Scar started to wheel himself away from the studio quickly, as they reached Scar’s office. It was quite nice, a wooden desk filled with trinkets took up the majority of the room along with a cat bed and toys littered across the floor. Mumbo looked around appreciating the decorating, he’d have to take notes. "So, why did you come all the way over for some tape?" Mumbo asked, trying to get to the bottom of the matter.

"Oh, you know, just some random projects I'm working on," Scar replied vaguely, grabbing a roll of tape from him. "Anyway, how have you been, Mumbo?"

Mumbo couldn't shake the feeling that Scar was hiding something, but he didn't want to pry too much. "I've been alright," he said, deciding to focus on the positive. "Busy with projects and Grian, obviously."

"Grian, huh?" Scar raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of mischief returning to his eyes. "Anything exciting recently?"

Mumbo hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring up his recent worries. But he trusted Scar, and maybe talking about it would help ease his mind. "Well, yeah, I mean I thought it was just Grian and I doing that last song, but it seems like he started a new project," Mumbo explained, trying to sound nonchalant.

Scar's eyes narrowed slightly, and he seemed to contemplate Mumbo's words. "You know, Grian can be a bit... spontaneous sometimes," he said carefully. "Maybe he just got caught up in the moment and forgot to tell you. I'm sure it's not intentional."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Mumbo sighed, feeling a bit better after sharing his thoughts. "I guess I'm just overthinking things."

“That’s it!” Scar said cheerily, before looking down at his phone. “Ah! Well, I should get going, thanks for your help Mumbo!” He said, pushing Mumbo out of the office.

“Wait- What? But I didn’t-” The door slammed on his face and he stood there muddled for a moment, “Help you with anything…”

He sighed, and made his way back to the studio. He guesses Scar won’t be joining him and Grian for recording today. He tried to refocus his mind but that whole exchange was just… odd… extremely odd.

As Mumbo sat in his studio, still feeling a little puzzled by Scar's odd visit, he couldn't help but shake off the strange feeling that lingered in the back of his mind. He heard a knock on the door and looked up, expecting to see Scar again, but to his surprise, it was Grian standing there with that mischievous smile of his. And suddenly, all his worries seemed to melt away.

"Hey, Mumbo!" Grian greeted, flashing a playful wink.

"Well, well, well, look who's early for once," Mumbo teased, trying to act nonchalant despite his heart fluttering at the sight of Grian. "Did you finally discover the concept of punctuality?"

Grian rolled his eyes, already moving up onto his desk, "Surprised to see me on time, aren't you?"

Mumbo chuckled, trying to play it cool despite his heart beating a little faster. "I'll admit, it's a rare sight. Are you feeling alright?"

Grian leaned against his hands, his eyes never leaving Mumbo's. "Oh, I'm feeling fantastic," he said, his voice a bit lower, teasingly flirtatious. "Just couldn't wait to see you, I guess."

Mumbo blushed slightly, trying to hide his growing excitement. "Well, I'm flattered," he replied, trying to maintain his composure. “You don’t happen to have the track file, do you? Scar never sent it to me.”

Grian made a small ‘oh’ sound before getting on his phone to send what Mumbo assumed the track was. As he did that, Grian couldn't resist throwing in some playful banter. "You know, Mumbo, I think you secretly love that I'm always late. Keeps you on your toes, right?"

Mumbo chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe, but it's also nice to see you here ahead of time for once. It's a pleasant surprise," he admitted, stealing a quick glance at Grian.

Grian grinned, leaning closer to Mumbo. "Well, I aim to please," he whispered, the flirtatious tone in his voice unmistakable.

Despite his attempt to act nonchalant, Mumbo's heart skipped a beat, and he felt his cheeks flush again. He quickly found that his earlier worries were insignificant compared to the joy he felt being around Grian, he had completely forgotten them the moment the man walked in.

A notification on his computer chimed with a file and he moved to open it, "So, what's the plan for today? Cause I genuinely haven’t a clue.”

As Mumbo opened the file, Grian hopped off the desk and joined him, peering at the screen. Grian’s eyes hovered over the booth as he responded, “Oh you know, record. And stuff…” He said vaguely.

Mumbo raised an eyebrow about to question him before Grian interrupted, “Anyways, ready?” He asked, already moving to the booth.

Mumbo blinked, still a little taken aback by Grian's sudden change of topic. "Uh, yeah, I'm ready," he replied, shaking off his momentary confusion. His gaze followed Grian into the booth, as the man slowly pulled his headphones over his head, looking abruptly nervous.

“Everything okay Gri?” He asked into his own mic, as his gaze went to his computer setting up the track to be played. But when he received no answer he looked back up to Grian who stared at Mumbo patiently.

“Grian?” Mumbo's confusion deepened as he saw Grian's mouth move but heard no sound. He quickly checked the audio settings on his computer, thinking there might be a technical issue. Everything seemed to be in order, and he tested his own microphone again, just to be sure. It worked perfectly fine.

"Grian, can you hear me?" Mumbo asked, trying to figure out what was going on. Grian's eyes widened in mock surprise, and he pointed to his headphones, gesturing that he couldn't hear anything. Mumbo tried not to laugh, realizing Grian must have done something. (Of course Grian wouldn’t be on time for nothing.) He decided to play along, pretending to be concerned.

"Oh no, is your equipment malfunctioning?" Mumbo said, pretending to examine Grian's headphones. "We can't record if you can't hear the backing track."

Grian continued to pantomime exaggerated gestures of frustration, and Mumbo couldn't help but chuckle. "Alright, alright," Mumbo said, giving in. "Let me see if I can fix it." He got up and made his way into the booth.

But when he stepped inside a wave of nervous energy flooded out, and he gave Grian a look of concern as he looked over the mic.

"Hey, are you okay?" Mumbo asked, concern evident in his voice as he reached out to touch Grian's arm.

Grian's eyes darted around for a moment, and then he nodded, “Yup- fine.” trying to steel his nerves. But something didn't feel right to Mumbo. He decided to check the microphone connection to make sure everything was in order.

As he bent down to inspect the cables, he quickly noticed that the microphone was indeed unplugged. Confused, he plugged it back in, but it wire clung on loosely, and turned to Grian with a quizzical expression.

"Grian, did you unplug the mic?" Mumbo asked, trying to keep his tone light, but his concern was still evident. And he was suddenly aware of their proximity.

Grian scratched the back of his head. "Whaat? Me? Pshh-" he replied, barely Mumbo's gaze.

Mumbo knew something was off. Grian wasn't usually this nervous. "Grian, come on. What's going on?" Mumbo pressed, wanting to get to the bottom of whatever this was.

Grian's facade of composure began to crumble, exposing the raw emotions beneath, and Mumbo could see the vulnerability etched in his friend's eyes. Grian's hands fidgeted nervously, betraying the inner turmoil he was experiencing. Mumbo's heart ached for him, sensing the weight of what Grian was about to reveal.

As Grian hesitated, the seconds felt like an eternity. His breaths came in shallow bursts, as if he were trying to steady himself. Mumbo watched with a mixture of concern and anticipation, waiting for Grian to find the courage to speak his truth.

Finally, Grian took a deep breath, as if mustering all his strength. His voice wavered slightly, adding to the sincerity of his words. "Okay, you know how I said this recording session was a spur of the moment thing?" he began, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Mumbo nodded, trying to offer reassurance without saying a word. He wanted Grian to know that he was there, that he would listen without judgment.

"Well, it's not just that," Grian confessed, his eyes locking onto Mumbo's, seeking solace and understanding. "I... I wrote a song. A song for you, actually. Well, the last couple of them have been about you, but you get the point," he chuckled, but it was a bittersweet sound.

Mumbo's heart skipped a beat at Grian's confession. His mind raced, trying to process what he had just heard. Grian had poured his heart and soul into music, and all this time, it was for him. The songs were a reflection of Grian's feelings, a secret melody composed for his ears alone. It felt almost too surreal, and yet, he could see the sincerity in Grian's eyes. This mystery person Grian had been singing to all this time… it was him.

The room seemed to shrink, and the world outside blurred into insignificance. Mumbo's emotions surged like a tide, a mixture of excitement and surprise washing over him. The realization that the songs were all about him made his heart flutter even more. All the little hints and glances between them suddenly took on a new significance, painting a tapestry of unspoken emotions that had woven itself into their friendship.

He wanted to embrace Grian, to hold him tight and never let go, to tell him that his feelings were reciprocated, that the songs meant everything to him too. But the weight of the moment held him back, a bittersweet ache tugging at his heart. The fear of ruining what they already had held his tongue captive, and he battled the inner turmoil.

He could feel the tension in the air, a charged atmosphere that seemed to bind them together. Without thinking, he blurted out the question that had been on his mind, his voice a whisper, almost afraid of the answer but desperate to take a chance. "Can I kiss you?" Mumbo asked softly, his cheeks turning a shade of pink, exposing his vulnerability, matching the same vulnerability he had seen in Grian's eyes just moments before.

Grian's eyes widened in surprise at Mumbo's sudden question. The vulnerable facade that had cracked before was now shattered entirely, leaving him exposed and uncertain. He seemed to be at a loss for words, his breath hitching as he tried to make sense of the moment.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the only sound being the soft rustling of their own clothes. Grian's gaze darted nervously between Mumbo's hopeful expression and the ground, as if he were grappling with a torrent of conflicting emotions.

But a smile slowly spread across his face. "You don't have to ask," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The soft hum of the equipment seemed to harmonize with the rhythm of their heartbeats, building up to an electrifying moment of vulnerability and connection. Grian's eyes held a mix of emotions, his gaze fixated on Mumbo's lips, which drew him in like a powerful magnet. Slowly, he closed the distance between them, his movements gentle and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second of this intimate encounter.

Their lips met in a caring collision, and time seemed to slow to a standstill. Their kiss was soft and tender, like a perfectly orchestrated crescendo in a symphony. Their lips danced a choreography born from the unspoken emotions that had been building between them. It was a gentle impact, like the meeting of two notes in a perfect harmony, creating a melody of emotions and the world outside the booth had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them entwined. The softness of Grian's lips against Mumbo's was like the touch of a feather, sending shivers of excitement down his spine.

As the kiss deepened, a soft sigh escaped from Mumbo's lips, the sensation overwhelming and yet undeniably exhilarating. Their hearts beat in sync, like the steady tempo of a love ballad, and every worry and doubt melted away, leaving behind only the sweetness of the connection they shared.

Grian's hand found its way to Mumbo's cheek, fingers gently cupping his face, holding him in place as if he never wanted to let go. The warmth of his touch transmitted an unspoken promise of affection and devotion.

Mumbo's arms wrapped around Grian’s waist, holding him close as though afraid this beautiful moment might slip away. Their bodies pressed together, and he could feel the rise and fall of Grian's chest, matching the rhythm of his own heart. The warmth of their connection enveloped them, creating a symphony of intimacy.

They kissed with a tenderness that spoke of a deep understanding and a genuine affection that had been building between them for far longer than they had realized. The world outside might have been filled with noise and chaos, but inside the booth, there was only tranquility and the purest expression of affection.

The soft sound of their mingling breaths echoed around them, the gentle rhythm of inhales and exhales creating a musical symphony of its own. The world outside the booth faded away, and all that remained was the melody of their love, played out through the meeting of their lips.

As they eventually pulled away, the air between them seemed charged with newfound intimacy. As they finally broke the kiss, their foreheads leaned gently against each other, their breaths intermingling as they gazed into each other's eyes. The studio booth seemed to hold its breath, as if it, too, recognized the significance of the moment.

Grian's smile was soft and full of affection, like the final note of a beautifully performed ballad. Mumbo's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, his heart still beating in sync with the lingering echoes of the kiss.

The moment felt surreal, as if they had entered a world of their own, far removed from the bustling outside reality. They remained in that intimate embrace for a few more heartbeats before Mumbo mustered the courage to break the silence.

"I... I've wanted to do that for… awhile," Mumbo admitted, his voice still tinged with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Grian's smile widened, and he brushed his thumb gently against Mumbo's cheek. "Me too," he confessed, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions.

Grian’s eyes suddenly lit up as he removed one of his hands from Mumbo’s face to his pocket. “I should probably give you this before I forget,” he chuckled, holding up the screwdriver.

Mumbo scoffs in surprise as he takes the tool in his own hand, “You cheeky little- What did you do?” He tries to chastise, but the grin of his face makes it hard to take seriously.

Grian chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "I thought it would be a fun way to get your attention and maybe... create the setting for that kiss." he replied playfully.

Mumbo rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile at Grian's antics. "You are unbelievable," he said, shaking his head in amusement.

Grian leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Mumbo's cheek. "Good to know.”

Chapter Text

Mumbo shot an affectionate but stern look at Grian in the booth, “We actually need to record this song G.”

Grian playfully grumbled, crossing his arms, “I mean, do we have to? I kind of did everything I needed to do.”

Mumbo chuckled, ‘This man’, he thought. “Oh, you've definitely been productive, but we can’t schedule a recording and have absolutely nothing to show for it.”

“I mean we have plenty to show for it,” Grian smirked, sending a wink towards Mumbo.

He blushed, his hand instinctively rising to cover his face, a bashful grin peeking through his fingers. “I’m playing the song whether you’re ready or not.”

Grian's laughter tinkled like music in Mumbo's ears, a symphony he could listen to forever. With a determined nod, he queued up the song, the laughter fading as he hit the start button.

[Share Your Address - Ben Platt]

The atmosphere is immediately filled with a contagious excitement. Grian stood with a mischievous glint in his eyes, standing confidently in front of the microphone. Mumbo couldn't take his eyes off of the blond as he started to sing. The mix of excitement and affection from earlier still lingered in the air, making him feel even more captivated by the man in front of him.

As Grian's voice filled the studio, Mumbo was spellbound. The movement of Grian's lips, the emotions woven into each syllable—it was a mesmerizing dance, a performance that held Mumbo captive. Grian's voice felt like a warm, soothing hug, wrapping around Mumbo's heart and embracing it with a cocoon of affection. The studio was awash with an enchanting melody, and Mumbo was lost in the magic of Grian's presence, a willing prisoner of his tender serenade.

With a wink and a playful smirk, Grian unleashed his contagious charisma, infusing the song with an irresistible charm. Each word seemed to dance to the beat as he swayed playfully, enchanting everyone in the room. Mumbo couldn't help but sport a grin from ear to ear, utterly bewitched by the man whose voice had the power to steal hearts.

As the song continued, Grian's eyes locked playfully with Mumbo's, and he couldn't help but let a mischievous grin dance on his lips. He knew the effect he had on the poor, smitten Mumbo, and he reveled in the joy of it. Every note seemed to be a playful confession of his affection, and the studio practically crackled with the delightful tension between them.

Leaning forward, Mumbo surrendered to the music. Grian's voice had that effect on him—it transported him to a world where nothing else mattered but the person he was listening to. The sweet lyrics and the upbeat melody only amplified the feelings he had for the singer, and it was evident that the song was written from a place of yearning.

The chorus became the heart of the song, so infectious that it would linger in the minds of listeners for days. The lyrics conveyed a sense of urgency and longing, but they were delivered with such charm and joy that it felt more like a celebration of love.

The look in Mumbo's eyes was unmistakable, his admiration shining like stars in the night sky. He was smitten, utterly and completely. He marveled at how talented Grian was, not just as a musician but also as a person who could effortlessly make his heart skip a beat.

In the bridge, the music playfully paused, leaving behind sharp piano notes that seemed to linger in the air like a sweet promise. Grian's vocals took on an intimate and tender quality, their vulnerability palpable as he poured his heart into expressing the yearning to be woven into every facet of Mumbo's life. It was a raw, unfiltered moment of authenticity, as if the listeners were privileged eavesdroppers on a sacred conversation—one that left Mumbo blushing in its wake.

Grian's eyes met Mumbo's several times during the recording, and each time, a knowing smile passed between them. Their chemistry was a tangible force, infusing an enchanting magic into every note. The genuine joy Grian exuded while singing was mirrored by the adoration that gleamed in Mumbo's eyes. The electricity in the air was palpable, and it seemed like the studio itself was basking in the glow of their connection.

As the song's final moments approached, the music soared to new heights, the chorus echoing with renewed passion. Grian's voice intertwined seamlessly with the melody, forging a harmonious symphony of emotions that left a lingering sense of euphoria hanging in the air. The song concluded on a triumphant note, its vibrant energy echoing long after the last chord had faded.

As the song climaxed, the harmony of instruments and vocals blended seamlessly, creating an explosion of pure bliss and love that permeated the recording booth. The music surged with invigorating energy, sweeping everyone off their feet in the whirlwind of excitement and affection.

Approaching the finale, the music soared to new heights, the chorus echoing once more with a renewed fervor. Grian's voice intertwined with the melody, crafting a symphony of emotions that left a lingering sense of euphoria in its wake. The song concluded on a high note, leaving a palpable energy in the air, as if the studio itself was buzzing with the magic of their connection.

Grian's gaze remained locked with Mumbo's as the last chord resonated, his playful grin tugging at their heartstrings. The affectionate tension in the air was almost tangible, causing Mumbo's heart to race with anticipation.

With a charming flair, Grian leaned closer to the microphone, addressing Mumbo directly, "Well, how was that? Can I get another kiss now?" His voice dripped with playful sweetness, teasingly inviting.

Mumbo felt a rush of warmth in his cheeks, but he couldn't help but smile at Grian's cheekiness. "Oh, you are something else," he chuckled, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "You know you're absolutely irresistible, don't you?"

Grian's grin widened, as he gave a teasing shrug, and his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Can't help it, mate. It's just part of my charm."

The atmosphere crackled with playful banter and genuine fondness. Mumbo couldn't resist the magnetic pull of Grian's presence any longer. He rose from his seat in the recording booth, drawn toward the window where Grian stood, looking directly into his eyes.”

"You're a charmer, alright," Mumbo said softly, a warm affection in his voice.

Grian's expression softened, and he reached out a hand toward the glass, as if trying to bridge the gap between them. "And you, my dear, are the one who makes it all worthwhile."

Their fingers brushed against the cool glass, sending a thrill through Mumbo. He couldn't resist any longer.

With a playful smirk, Grian leaned in closer to the microphone again. "So, another kiss?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with anticipation.

Mumbo pretended to ponder for a moment, feigning reluctance. "Hmm, I don't know," he teased. "You have to earn it, you know."

"Oh, I do, do I?" Grian replied, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Challenge accepted."

Before Mumbo could respond, Grian stepped away from the microphone and made his way out of the recording booth. He swiftly opened the door and walked towards Mumbo, his steps filled with purpose. The playful facade faded, leaving behind a tender and sincere expression.

Without a word, Grian gently cupped Mumbo's cheek with his hand, his thumb caressing his skin. The world around them seemed to fade away as they locked eyes, and Mumbo's breath caught in his throat.

Then, in a moment that felt both electric and intimate, Grian leaned in, and their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. Time seemed to stand still as they savored the connection between them, the music of their hearts finding harmony in that simple touch.

When they finally pulled back, their smiles spoke volumes. It was a kiss filled with affection, tenderness, and the promise of something more.

"I think you've definitely earned that," Mumbo whispered, his voice barely audible over the beating of their hearts.

Grian pulled back slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, now that we've established that kisses are an essential part of the recording process," he teased, "I think we should do it again, just to be sure."

Mumbo chuckled, trying to suppress a grin. "As much as I'd love to continue this very productive recording session," he said, his tone playfully sarcastic, "we do have a song to finish, remember?"

Grian pouted playfully, putting on an innocent facade. "But I thought the song was about love and kisses and all that good stuff," he said, batting his eyelashes with exaggerated flair.

"It is," Mumbo replied with a laugh, "but we also need to make sure it sounds perfect. As much as I adore kissing you, we can't rely solely on that to create a masterpiece."

Grian leaned against the recording booth's wall, giving Mumbo a sly grin. "Oh, come on, you know I sound better when I'm properly motivated," he said, winking.

Mumbo shook his head, trying not to let Grian's charm distract him too much. "You're incorrigible," he said, unable to hide the affection in his voice. "But fine, one more kiss, and then we're getting back to recording, alright?"

Grian's eyes lit up, and he eagerly leaned in for another kiss, this time a bit more lingering and passionate. When they finally pulled apart, he looked at Mumbo with a satisfied smirk. "I'll take that as a yes," he said.

Mumbo chuckled, feeling a little lightheaded from the kiss. "Alright, now let's focus," he said, pointing at the microphone. "We've got a song to finish, and I want it to be absolutely amazing."

Grian nodded, dramatically returning to the booth. "Whatever you say, maestro," he said, his playful tone laced with genuine admiration.

-

They spent the next few hours recording several more takes of the song. Each time, Grian's performance seemed to improve, fueled by the energy of their playful banter and the warmth of their connection. Mumbo couldn't help but marvel at Grian's talent and dedication to making the song perfect. Laughter, teasing, and tender moments filled the studio, creating an atmosphere of pure joy and creativity.

As the recording session came to an end, they both found themselves at Mumbo's desk. Grian wrapped an arm around Mumbo's shoulder as they listened to the playback of the song together. The studio speakers filled the room with the sweet melody, and Mumbo felt a rush of emotions wash over him.

"Well, I think that's a wrap," Grian declared, wiping a pretend sweat from his brow. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure we've just nailed that," he said, beaming with pride.

“That we did,” He replied sweetly, looking to him adoringly.

Grian beamed at the praise, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "Thanks, Mumbo. Seriously, couldn't have done it without you."

Mumbo playfully rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop it. You're the real star here."

As they sat in the studio, basking in the afterglow of their recording session, a comfortable silence settled between them. Grian's gaze turned thoughtful, and he turned to Mumbo with a soft smile.

Grian gently reached out and took Mumbo's hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "So, what now?" he asked, his tone a delightful mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

Mumbo laughed, rubbing his thumb against Grian’s hand lovingly. "Well, I think it's about time I officially ask you on a date."

The moment hung in the air, the anticipation palpable. Grian's eyes softened his cheeks flushing with a mix of excitement and happiness. He glanced down at their intertwined fingers before looking back at Mumbo with a bright smile.

"I'd love that," Grian leaned in closer to Mumbo, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just the two of us, keeping it between ourselves for now. No need to rush into anything, right?"

Mumbo nodded, a soft smile on his lips. "Absolutely," he said warmly.

But then, a thought occurred to Mumbo, and he remembered a certain person who had meddled in their business, and might kill him if he told her nothing. "Oh, but I do have to tell Pearl... She's kind of been putting her hand into this whole thing," he admitted.

Grian was about to laugh before pausing, a realization dawning on him. "Wait, Pearl? Scar's been the one that has been..." He trailed off, connecting the dots. “You don’t think?”

Mumbo sighs, “I do actually.”

A mischievous glint entered Grian's eyes. "Shall we go teach them a lesson then?" he asked, playfully pulling Mumbo toward the door.

Mumbo chuckled, feeling an overwhelming warmth for this man by his side. "Do you even have to ask?" he replied warmly, ready to embark on whatever adventure awaited them, hand in hand.