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"Dude, what's up with the new accessories?" Shayne's voice pierced through the buzz of the Smosh office, pointing at Ian's head. Ian looked up from his laptop, his blue ear molds gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
"Oh, these?" He tapped the plastic outer-ear of one of the hearing aids, a slightly self-conscious smile playing on his lips. "I've had some hearing issues lately." The room fell silent, the only sound the distant hum of the air conditioner.
"But you're, like, not even 40 yet!" Keith exclaimed, his eyes wide. The others stared, a mix of shock and confusion etched on their faces.
"Well, apparently, 36 is the new 80 when it comes to hearing," Ian quipped, trying to ease the tension. He had anticipated the reaction. After all, it had taken him by surprise too when the doctor had told him. But he had made a decision to embrace it, even going so far as to pick out his favourite colour (blue), instead of just letting them be black or white or flesh-toned.
"They're pretty cool, though," Courtney said, trying to lighten the mood. She leaned in closer to him. "Very...bright - they suit you" Her words were stunted, like she wasn't quite sure what to say. The others nodded in agreement, but Ian could sense the awkwardness hanging in the air like a dense fog.
"Thanks," he replied, his smile growing more genuine. "They're supposed to help me pick up on things better, especially when we're all yelling over each other during brainstorming sessions." Tommy snickered, and Ian shot him a look. "And maybe I'll finally be able to year your snide remarks," he raised his eyebrows, the slightest hint of a smile gracing the edges of his heart-shaped lips.
The room broke into laughter, and Ian felt the tension begin to dissipate. Tommy held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just saying, you might finally get my genius ideas now." The banter helped to normalize the situation, and soon the group was back to their usual antics, discussing their latest goings on and pitching skit ideas.
But amidst the laughter and chaos, Ian's mind drifted to the quiet moments he'd been missing: the gentle rustle of leaves outside his window, the faint whisper of his cat's purr, the soft click of the fridge at night. He was looking forward to experiencing those sounds again, even if it meant having to deal with the occasional double take or stare. It was a small price to pay for the richness of a fully-heard world.
The day rolled on, and the office grew noisier. The clacking of keyboards, the ringing of phones, and the constant chatter of his colleagues' voices started to wear on him. Ian had always loved the energy of the smosh office, but now it felt like a cacophony assaulting his senses. He reached up and adjusted the volume on his hearing aids, trying to find the sweet spot between 'I can't hear anything at all', and 'this is too much; I want to die.'
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Ian retreated to his office, shutting the door behind him with a sigh of relief. He gently removed the hearing aids, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the pandemonium outside. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the dull ache that had settled in the back of his head. The quiet was blissful, but he knew he couldn't hide in there all day.
As he sat in the quiet, his thoughts turned to the future. He wondered how his hearing would change over time, and what other adjustments he might have to make. Would he have to wear these things all the time? Would he ever get used to the way they felt, nestled in his ears like tiny electronic companions? Would it just take time for him to get used to all of the new, (ironically) deafening sounds.
Anthony knocked on the door, peeking his head in. "You okay, man?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Ian looked up, the concern on his friend's face making him feel both touched and a little embarrassed. He realised a moment later that Anthony probably wasn't whispering - he just couldn't hear his voice at its true volume.
"Yeah, just taking a breather," Ian replied, holding up the blue hearing aids, "this is all a bit much for day one."
Anthony stepped into the room and closed the door. "I get it," he said, his voice gentle, making sure that he was facing Ian whilst talking, "it gets too much for me sometimes too - and I don't even have two massive speakers on my head."
Ian smiled, huffing out a laugh.
They talked for a while about the hearing aids, about work, about life, and as the conversation flowed, Ian found himself smiling. It was nice to have Anthony treat him so normally. He'd been so so scared, despite his forced nonchalance, that his stupid hearing impairment would ruin everything he had going, yet Anthony was proving that that wasn't the case.
When they were done, Ian slid the hearing aids back in and took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, standing up, "let's go see if they've stopped shouting yet." He grinned at Anthony, receiving a similar toothy smile back.
The door opened, and the wall of sound hit him again, but this time he was ready. He stepped back into the fray, the blue of his hearing aids acting as a guiding light. He'd faced tougher challenges than a little extra noise (read: anything involving Defy Media), so this should be a cake walk.