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Everyone has a theme song. Literally. A person's theme is meant to reflect their overall quality of life or personality. A depressed person may have a sad theme, while a happy person may have something more upbeat.
Because of the theme songs, locational themes are man-made in order to make things less overwhelming. A big city will have one theme playing for the whole city rather that everyone's themes playing all at once. On occasion, if someone of importance talks, their theme temporarily replace the location theme, like how when Simon talks during court, his theme overturns the trial theme.
When Simon first met Bobby, he thought his theme song to be almost as annoying as the man himself. It was over the top, it was loud, and he didn't like it. And he only got more and more annoyed by it every day.
Simon couldn't hear his own theme song, nobody could. But when he told Bobby just how annoyed he was with his theme song, Bobby had said he felt the same about Simon's, and they left it at that.
But, during Athena's fateful trial, it came out that the man he'd been so annoyed by was indeed not Bobby Fulbright but a cheap knockoff. The phantom had a special power to completely control his emotions, and with them, his theme song. His song would change itself into a slightly off version of the person's who he pretended to be. This was not truly Bobby Fulbright. It never had been.
When I found out about the phantom taking Bobby's place, it made me sad but not surprised. My pal had a sudden shift in demeanor about a year ago. He hasn't been the same since, and now I know why.
He used to come into work early every morning, happy no matter what the world threw at him. He'd call his mother during lunch to make sure she was okay. He'd treat the inmates like individuals, unlike most other officers. He put his all into his investigations, following every lead, monitoring every clue. I was so proud to say I was the one who had mentored him, pal. Every weekend he'd come over to me and Maggie's apartment to help me cut up confetti. We took turns paying for paper each time.
But then, one day, he just changed. He came in on time rather than early. He stopped calling his mom. He didn't come over anymore. He had the same mannerisms, but something about them was all wrong. He just seemed so empty. I asked him a few times if he was okay. I was worried he might have been depressed. "You just haven't been yourself lately," I said. Little did I know how right I was.
So when I, Detective Gumshoe, was put in charge of the search mission for him, I didn't hesitate to get to work!
Me and the team searched almost all of Los Angeles for the guy. A few leads were found, but none turned up anything. That is, until we were given clearance to check a few private storage lockers the phantom had been renting. The first few weren't anything of importance. Masks, clothes, things that shouldn't be kept in your house because they'd draw suspicion to you.
The chief of police had wanted me to call of the investigation of the storage lockers. Getting them open was too much of a hassle he said. But, when I was had finished packing up my things from the investigation area and was ready to go home, I suddenly heard something disturbing.
It was weak, quiet and muffled. But inside a storage locker, I heard a faint, jazzy kind of song. Except, it wasn't happy upbeat jazzy. It was a strange jazz, hopeless sounding.
I listened to the beat a bit closer. It sounded familiar. And when I recognized it as a weaker, sadder version of Bobby's theme song, I couldn't help but run to the storage locker.
Before, we had to go into the managers office and get them to unlock it for us, but I couldn't wait. I tried kicking the door in a few times. After one last, good kick, the door came crashing down. Gee, then I realized why nobody ever used these storage lockers. Very poorly built. They were secluded though, which is probably how the phantom could hold a hostage in one without anybody noticing.
When Bobby looked up at me, I saw a horror in his eyes. He didn't recognize me. "Please don't hurt me. Please..."
My eyes widened. He looked so malnourished, so scared. "I'm not gonna hurt you, pal. It's me! Detective Gumshoe! I'm here to get you help."
Bobby looked skeptical. I didn't blame him. It pained me to see him like that. So horrified, so weak. He was like a son to me.
Bobby's real father had walked out when he was young. Despite this, he grew up with a spectacular mom, and had a very happy childhood. Still, the lack of a father figure must've impacted him somehow. So when he came to visit me and Maggie on the weekends or when he went on long rants about justice, it made me feel a fatherly pride I can't explain.
Despite me and Maggie wanting kids, she was infertile, and we never could have any. But I had Bobby. Sometimes, that was enough.
Maybe, know that he's been found, I can rekindle our relationship.
When I, a few days after being released from prison, received the news that the real Fulbright was found alive, I was more than a little bit shocked. I hoped they'd find his body so they could hold a funeral and finally get closure, but never did I think he'd be found alive.
Detective Gumshoe paid me a visit to tell me, and said that Fulbright was currently in the hospital fighting for his life.
And for some reason, when he got better, I oh so desperately wanted to meet him. To see if he really was all that annoying. To tell him I hope he gets better. To do something.
And so, once he healed, I went with Gumshoe and his wife to pay him a visit. The two of them went in first, which was probably for the best. He'd recognize them. He'd never even met me.
When the two of them came out, they told me I was free to go in. I swallowed my nervousness and walked into the room where he stayed.
Automatically, I could tell the difference between him and the phantom. Because his theme song was so pretty. His eyes shone so bright with life. He looked so happy it was incredible.
His song had the same beat as the phantom's rendition, but it was more calm, a mix of bossa nova and jazz.
Oh, and the phantom's eyes could be happy. They could be angry or sad. But behind it was just emptiness. This Bobby's smile was so genuine, his eyes shining like stars.
"You're Simon, right,?"
"Yes, that's right. And you are Fulbright."
"No, I'm Bobby. That's what all my friends call me. Anyways, I'm so happy to meet you! I'm so glad you're out of prison, I knew you were innocent. I read up on your case you know, before I was going to meet you. I was so excited! But then..." His ranting trailed off.
'He has such a gorgeous voice,' I thought. My brain was supplying me with a very strange amount of compliments about him, my heart a lot of feelings. I ignored it.
"I'm glad to meet you too. I wanted to come wish you well. I hope you heal quickly and easily, physically and emotionally," I tried to stay formal.
"Oh I'll be alright," he brushed me off. "Wow I can't believe I'm really meeting you. Come sit down, I want to talk to you more so we can be friends!"
And from that day onwards, we were friends.
Bobby did recover fast. They kept him in the hospital a few extra days to get him back on a healthy eating schedule, and of course he had to see a therapist, but he slowly was reintegrating back into society.
It was something he and Simon had in common. This was their first time being out in the real world for quite a while. It was something the sort of bonded over.
Simon's mind continued to provide him with useless compliments. 'His hair is so soft and fluffy', 'His tiny rants are so cute', 'He looks so pretty in the sweater'. It confused him. This didn't happen with anybody else. He'd never felt this way about anybody before. He wasn't sure if he liked it.
What he did like though, was Bobby's theme song. It was beautiful, just like the man it represented. He liked how it sounded, how every time he saw Bobby, it would play. He liked it's slow pace but happy tone. He liked Bobby's theme song.
He was glad to have a friend to grow with. He liked Bobby.
He liked Bobby...
I used to hear a simple song...
That was until you came along...
Now in its place is something new...
I hear it when I look at you...