Chapter Text
The sun filtered through the blinds, casting soft streaks of light across the living room. Green stretched out on the couch, guitar perched on his lap, lazily plucking a melody from one of his band’s more recent songs. The rest of the Color Gang bustled around the house in their usual morning routine—TSC pacing around with a coffee cup in his hand, Red and Blue bickering about something trivial in the kitchen, and Yellow humming along to Green’s song as she sat near him, fingers drumming on the keyboard of her laptop.
It seemed to be a typical day around the house, full of noise and energy. Yet, for Green, there was a quiet undercurrent, a restlessness he couldn’t shake. His eyes flicked to his phone every few minutes, as if he were waiting for a message that hadn’t come. Purple had been distant lately, and though they hadn’t exactly spoken about it, Green could feel the gap growing wider with each passing day.
And it was driving him insane.
“Hey, you alright?” Second’s voice cut through the haze as they plopped down beside them. This is something Green should have expected from his sibling, though he still couldn’t exactly figure out how to bring this up to them. Second would always catch on every time he would act slightly off. It still astounded Green, really.
Or maybe he was an open book.
Green blinked, forcing a grin. “Yeah, fine! Just… Thinking.”
TSC raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. They knew Green well enough to know when not to pry. “Well, don’t think too hard. We’ve got rehearsal in an hour.”
Green nodded absentmindedly, and frankly, his train of thought seemed to be missing its driver. Purple. The last time they’d talked, something had felt off. There was distance in Purple’s voice, a formality that hadn’t been there before. Green brushed it off at first, convincing himself that it was just the usual stress that came with their work. Purple was a hard worker, that much was obvious. But now, sitting here, surrounded by the usual chaos that was Green’s family, the silence between the two felt more real than ever.
-----
Later that day, Green wandered into the studio, finding Purple already there, hunched over the soundboard. Their fingers moved expertly across the dials, eyes focused on the screen in front of them. It was the same scene Green had witnessed countless times-Purple lost in their world, adjusting levels and fine-tuning the details no one else would notice.
Green leaned against the doorframe, letting themselves stare for a moment before speaking. “You’ve been here for hours. Take a break.”
Purple jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, but didn’t look up. “I’m fine. Just trying to get the levels right for the next show.”
Green hesitated before stepping further into the room. Something about the way Purple had responded to him made their chest tighten. There was something in their tone— professional, distant, as if they were more focused on work than anything else. Since when did they start talking like that?
He approached the soundboard, focused on trying to lighten the mood. “You’re gonna give yourself a headache, you know that?”
Purple glanced up briefly, their lips curving into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach their eyes. “Just doing my job, Green.”
The words stung more than they should have. Green wasn’t sure if it was in his head. But… They seemed—distant? Green frowned, the familiar warmth between them feeling like it was slipping away, replaced by something colder, more formal. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but now he couldn’t ignore it.
The silence stretched between them, thick and awkward, like a song stuck in a bad key. Green stood by the soundboard, tapping his fingers against the edge, searching for something to say that didn’t sound ridiculous.
“You’re more than just your job, you know,” Green muttered, barely audible. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if Purple heard him.
You’re everything.
Purple’s fingers froze for a split second on the dials, but then they kept working. “We’ve got a show tonight. I’m just trying to make sure everything’s perfect.”
“Yeah, but–”
“But what?” Purple cut him off, finally turning to face him, their eyes tired but sharp. “I’m doing what I’m supposed to. What we both agreed on. We’ve got a job to do, Green.”
I couldn’t stand seeing you like that. While they watched. Laughed. High-fived. Took photos.
There it was again—that wall of professionalism, shutting Green out. He swallowed back his frustration, forcing a smile. “Right, the show. Business first.”
Purple’s expression softened, just slightly, but they said nothing more. They turned back to their work, and the conversation died. Green’s heart sank a little. They wouldn’t say anything out loud.
-----
The studio lights were dim, casting long shadows across the room as the muffled sounds of the city seeped in through the walls. Green sat on the edge of a torn leather couch, electric guitar cradled in his arms, fingers idly strumming a tune that only half made sense.
“You’re quiet tonight.” Green finally looked up from his instrument to smirk at Purple, who, with faux-annoyance, flicked her eyes up to meet Green’s, and slumped back in their chair.
“Just making sure everything sounds right,” Purple murmured, their voice soft, but steady.
An easy grin tugged at Green’s lips. “Can we run it through one more time?”
They did.
Green strummed his last chord. Winked at Purple.
For just a moment, Purple felt like she might’ve been running a fever.
“Too much bass,” Green teased, smirking at her.
Purple mock-glared, tweaking the settings at Green’s comment, a contradiction to her next words. “Shut up. I know what I’m doing.”
Green chuckled, setting the guitar aside to join them by the soundboard. “I know you do, Purps. Was there anything wrong that time?”
Green expected an honest answer. There was always something. And quite frankly, the perfectionist didn’t mind hearing what he had done wrong from Purple, of all people.
“Honestly? That was your best run yet.”
“Yeah? What about my singing?”
“I’ve always loved the way your voice sounds.”