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The image of Boombox seated at the piano, frozen and silent did not leave Medkit’s mind, no matter how hard he tried to forget about it. It became one of those things where the moment he forgot about it, something would happen and remind him of it all over again. It was proving to be more of a headache than the DJ ever was, and quite frankly, he wanted to put it to rest and leave it be. He’d like to not wake up in the middle of the night and have that train of thought leave the station before he got the chance to fall back asleep, thank you very much.
The best way to deal with this, in Medkit’s opinion, was to just talk to Boombox and get the air cleared up. Even if the talk was unproductive and yielded no answers, Medkit would be able to move along with his life and know that he at least gave an attempt. As much as he dreaded starting a conversation with Boombox, it had to be done, or else he’d keep being nagged with that image and train of thought for who knows how long.
Now, he just needed to rip the metaphorical bandaid off and do it. The loud music Boombox had blared during the phight had only made the dread of the conversation grow because he knew the other would be just as loud during it, but nevertheless, Medkit persisted and stuck to his plan. It wasn’t hard to locate the DJ after the phight because of the sheer volume of his voice whenever he was talking to Skateboard and Slingshot and how it carried through the air, and honestly, he debated just backing out and waiting it all out. But, it’d been almost two weeks now, and it still didn’t go away, so this had to be done.
Before he could convince himself to just leave it be and not risk the headache, he walked over to the trio, clearing his throat and watching as all three pairs of eyes flicked over to look at him, their conversation pausing abruptly. This was… so much more painfully awkward than he thought it would be, but the attention was on him now, so there was no backing out now even if he wanted to. “Boombox, do you have a moment to talk?”
The reactions he got from the statement were enough to make him regret his choice to try and have this conversation, with Skateboard and Slingshot exchanging unreadable glances and Boombox’s visor eyelights staring blankly at him, but the rest of his body language gave away the fact that he was surprised by that question. Before he could even answer, the other two phighters beat him to it.
Skateboard hopped up from his spot on the ground put his gear down, gesturing for Slingshot to hurry up and get on as well, “We’ll see you at McDonald’s Boom!” He grinned widely, looking far too amused at this predicament Medkit was regretting getting himself into. Then Slingshot gave Boombox a faux salute before hopping on, and the two were gone as soon as Skateboard took off. Something akin to a look of betrayal seemed to flash across Boombox’s visor as they left, but just as quick as it was there, it was gone, and he cupped his hands around his mouth to shout an “I’ll meet you there!” after them.
Now that just left Boombox and Medkit, both standing there awkwardly, but it only lasted a fleeting moment before the DJ flashed a smile at the doctor, swaying back on his heels and rocking back and forth, “Sooo what’d you wanna talk about Med?”
Medkit could feel the familiar flicker of annoyance running through him, but he was too deep in it now to abandon this trainwreck he’d thrown himself on. He started to walk in the opposite direction Slingshot and Skateboard had gone, listening as Boombox eventually got the hint and caught up. It’d be easier to have this conversation away from the possibility of other phighters listening in, especially if Boombox shielded playing the piano like a closely-guarded secret. “You mentioned there being plenty of empty buildings in Playground,” He figured that would be a good enough point to start from, given the fact that it’s where their last conversation left off, “But isn’t urban exploration typically frowned upon?”
Boombox shrugged, swinging his gear by his side idly as he walked, “Trespassing is always frowned upon, but sometimes there’s just a point with buildings that people don’t really care who goes in or out because nobody’s gonna even try to fix it up anymore.” He gave a small hum of consideration before he began to talk , like he always did, and Medkit was very much regretting his choice to try and deal with the issue this way, because now chances were he was going to end up with a headache and no answers whatsoever.
Despite that, it felt like Boombox’s words were going in one ear and out the other because all he could think of is how easy it seemed for Boombox to switch into being so energetic and loud, turning into a headache and a nuisance in the blink of an eye. It was strange because Medkit had the knowledge that the DJ could be so quiet and reserved, and yet, he seemed to choose to always be an annoyance that couldn’t stand still for more than three minutes. He just couldn’t do anything with it, not yet, because Boombox was steering the conversation.
It was strange, Boombox talked like it was just as easy as breathing. Awkward pauses and gaps and lulls in conversations had never stopped him, and it was always bizarre to see because he could seemingly talk his way through and around anything from what he’d seen of the DJ. Medkit couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to do that because it seemed so tiring, and yet, Boombox always managed to do it. Something like now, where Medkit was waiting to figure out when and how to bring up the abandoned hotel again, and yet Boombox was practically talking circles around him. It was annoying and frustrating, honestly. It didn’t help that there was an outdoor piano sitting off to the side of where they were walking, and he kept seeing the image of Boombox sitting so still at a piano-
“Helloooooo?” Boombox was obnoxiously waving a hand in front of Medkit’s face, to which the healer swatted it away with an annoyed twitch of his eye, “You seriously zoned out! It’s like you forgot that you wanted to talk to me!”
“You talk too much.”
Boombox snickered, clearly amused with himself, “Awwww, am I boring you Meds? Sorry ‘bout that- what were you even looking at?” His eyes followed the doctor’s gaze, settling on the piano. Medkit waited to see how Boombox would react to it, his eyes flicking over to carefully watch for the other’s reaction. He expected something like a pause, a small freeze, based on what he knew from their talk outside the hotel.
And yet, he did the unexpected. “Ohhhh- the piano!” Boombox gasped and practically skipped over to it, running the fingers of his free hand over it before looking back towards Medkit, “Do you play Med? You were kinda staring at it before I snapped you out of it-”
Medkit shook his head, “No, I don’t.” He used to be able to at one point, when he was younger and when his parents wanted him to have a hobby that required precision. He stopped playing when he started working, and never picked it up again. His fingers had long forgotten how to work the keys of the instruments, but it was fine. He preferred listening to it and hearing people play it. For a moment, Medkit paused, finally realizing he had an in to start steering the conversation in the direction he hoped it would go, and he took a blind shot in the dark. “Do you play?”
In all honesty, he had expected Boombox to deny it, and then from there Medkit would mention hearing someone playing in the building and the conversation would be over with, but in typical Boombox fashion, he did the complete opposite of what he was expecting. Medkit watched as the DJ’s smile grew and he placed his gear next to the bench, “I do actually! Taught myself when I was younger actually- I had to do something in my freetime!” Boombox laughed, taking a seat and carefully lifting up the fallboard covering the keys, “I would ask if there was any specific song you wanted to hear, but I can’t guarantee I’d know it, especially because you only listen to classical music and you’re definitely full of obscure songs.”
The doctor raised a brow at the comment, and Boombox simply stuck his tongue out in response. Medkit thought it was childish of him, but then he began to play, and Medkit half expected to hear the out of tune piano from before once the DJ had pressed down on the keys. The notes came out clean, perfectly in tune, nothing like the piano he’d first heard him playing on. Medkit might’ve been able to figure out what song Boombox was playing if he wasn’t too busy thinking about how to even bring up the topic of the piano in the hotel.
Boombox was humming along to the song, a more upbeat tune this time around, not at all silent like he was before. To be fair, he could’ve been humming back when Medkit saw him, he was too far away to tell after all. “I don’t really know too many songs, honestly,” Boombox shrugged, talking like Medkit had asked him about what songs he did know how to play, “I just learned to play by ear. Never got lessons, so I never got to learn too much of the complicated stuff. I had to hope and pray it sounded right!”
And there was his window to bring up the hotel, and Medkit prepared for the conversation to take a turn in a direction he wouldn’t be able to predict. He just had to bite the bullet, just crack open the door, and hope for the best. “But you knew how to play Clair de Lune,” Medkit commented plainly, watching as Boombox’s hands kept moving along the keys of the piano, “That’s known as a fairly complicated piece to learn, I tried to learn it when I was younger, and I never could pick it up enough to get it flawless.”
There was a small pause in the music, and Medkit couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not as Boombox’s eyelights blinked down at the keys, “What are you talking about?” He chuckled, as if Medkit had made a joke and not a statement, there was a slight shake to his hands before he continued playing, like it had never even happened, “This is your first time hearing me play the piano, isn’t it? Has to be, nobody else really knows that about me, it’s like a fun fact.”
“I know you played the piano in that building about two weeks ago, the abandoned hotel where we ran into each other outside of it,” Medkit finally just ripped the metaphorical bandaid off, saying what he wanted to ever since this conversation started because he was starting to get tired of going around in circles like this, “I saw you through the window when there was a pause in the music because I stopped to listen when I heard it. I was going to ask you about it that day, but you left before I could, and-”
The music stopped all of a sudden and cut Medkit’s sentence short out of surprise. There it was, that familiar freeze that he’d seen happen to Boombox at the piano in the empty hotel, the panic, and this time Medkit was close enough to see the look that was once indescribable to him, and though his visor shielded the upper half of Boombox’s face, the rest of his face gave it away. That look he had was one nothing short of horrified, which caught Medkit terribly off-guard. He didn’t even know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. It was like all the cheer and energy had been drained from the DJ in an instant, but before Medkit could even say anything about it, Boombox beat him to it, nearly slamming the fallboard back down onto the keys and making the doctor jump slightly.
“I forgot I had to do something important-” Boombox said quickly, hurriedly, like the words were rushing to leave his mouth. Medkit knew it was a lie, the stiffness in his movements, the lack of his typical fluidity, he was clearly panicked , but Medkit couldn’t do anything to salvage the conversation because Boombox scooped up his gear in his hands after standing up faster than Medkit had ever seen, offering nothing more than a fast “Bye- see you next phight-” before he turned and left, clearly trying to walk fast to avoid to jogging or running away.
Medkit honestly considered following after Boombox because that gave him more questions than answers, but just before he could start walking in that direction to try and catch up to him, there was a voice from behind.
“Medkit? What’re you doing out here?”
Oh all of SFOTH must truly hate Medkit right now, because there was no way Sword had just seen that disaster of a conversation go down. He prayed that his heavy sigh of frustration went unnoticed before he turned around, taking an extra hit of psychic damage when he saw Rocket standing there too. If he’d also overheard the conversation, then he would just grab his gun and end it all right there out of awkwardness.
“I was listening to the music before the person playing the piano left.” He didn’t name Boombox, especially if the piano playing was a factor in the slight panicked reaction that came from the DJ that first time around. “Before that, I was just on a walk. Nothing much to it.”
Sword just nodded, but his eyes met Medkit’s singular eye, darting over in the direction Boombox had left in before moving back, as if to ask ‘What happened there?’ Medkit replied with an eyeroll which he hoped screamed ‘It doesn’t matter’ and the topic would be dropped. The way Sword squinted at him told him that he wasn’t going to drop it, especially when he looked back towards Boombox’s departure route again, ‘Really?’ . In reply, Medkit gave him a small glare.
‘We’re not talking about this’ .
“Was that Boombox we saw leaving just now?” Rocket asked, head still turned in the direction the DJ had left in, oblivious to the silent conversation Medkit and Sword were having in that very moment that was getting next to nowhere, which meant that Sword would likely be coming over to his apartment later to have this conversation in full (and he wasn’t really looking forward to that), “He seemed like he was in a rush-” Rocket finally swiveled his head back around to look at Medkit, who pinched the bridge of his nose as he shut his eye momentarily, opening it after to not kill the conversation.
“He was listening with me, but left after he said he had forgotten to do something important,” Half of the truth was better than no truth, he figured. But now, he had more questions than answers. The talk with Boombox was going well, and he’d thought the piano playing was what made Boombox anxious when running into Medkit outside that abandoned hotel, but then got proved wrong. There was something else there that was fueling his panicked reactions, and Medkit still had nothing to satisfy his mind enough to finally let it go. In fact, now he had more to think about, more images to cycle through when he found himself unable to sleep.
What a mess.
No. No no no-
Boombox had his back pressed to his front door the moment he was in his apartment, with his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, fighting the urge to just sink down onto the floor and melt into a puddle and sink into the carpet and never be seen again. That couldn’t have gone any worse. Boombox wasn’t even thinking about what he was doing when it all happened because the moment Medkit mentioned seeing him sitting there at the piano, frozen in thought, he just panicked and acted on instinct, which was to run away instead of staying to try and figure out what to do next. Usually he was able to keep his head on his shoulders and wiggle his way out of those tricky spots, but knowing that Medkit saw him when he was sitting at the piano and spiralling… there was no way he was going to want anything to do with him anymore because he had to know now that everything that made up Boombox, the loud and annoying phighter that everyone knew, was all a charade.
The moment he knew he was out of Medkit’s sight just from walking, he just ran , right back to Playground, right back to his apartment, not even stopping to wait for the bus. Boombox knew he just needed to get back to somewhere safe, because he didn’t know how much longer he could hold it together before he phucked something else up and someone else saw the pieces of him he wanted to remain unseen.
Once Medkit mentioned Clair de Lune, Boombox knew he was screwed and that was it for him, because then Medkit would’ve talked about how it was weird he was playing the piano in an abandoned building, how it was weird that he was so quiet and lost in the music and his own thoughts, and then how Boombox was weird and still as annoying as ever and he never wanted to talk to him again.
Okay, maybe he was catastrophizing, but his thoughts were racing a mile a minute right now, and it’s what made the most sense in his mind. Why else would Medkit bring it up? Boombox couldn’t think of a single other reason as to why he would mention the hotel again, if it wasn’t to talk about how Boombox was strange . If he’d stayed, maybe he could’ve gone with the ghost story or said he saw someone else in there, but he just left instead, no explanation whatsoever. He took his hat off to run a hand through his hair anxiously, setting it down on the closest surface.
His phone then buzzed in his pocket, and Boombox fumbled to get it out and see who was messaging him. He blinked when he saw a bunch of messages and missed calls from Skate and Sling, wondering what was up with those two and why they were spamming him like that. He tapped on his texts with Skate, knowing that Sling’s messages were probably the same. He just saw Skate’s first, and went with those.
let us kno how the talk w ur loser husband goes LOLLL (3:37pm)
r u guys stll yappin???? (3:46pm)
boom r u stll cming to mcdnalds?????? (4:02pm)
????????
where r u?????? (4:14 pm)
Phuck.
He’d forgotten he’d told Skate and Sling he’d meet them at McDonalds after he talked to Medkit. Boombox was just making mistake after mistake today, and all he could do was pray that his hands would stop shaking enough so he could type out a coherent reply to the concerned texts from Skate. He knew Sling was probably still with him, or that he’d at least pass the message along. There was no need to try and get two replies written out, and he didn’t really want to see Sling’s messages right now either. Skate’s were enough.
srry. started feelin sick. no mcds for me (๑-﹏-๑)
i just got back home to rest dw im all good ദ്ദി(^▽^ദ്ദി)
After the messages were sent, Boombox put his phone on silent and tossed it onto the couch, not wanting to deal with it any longer with the added possibility of Medkit texting him. All of the phighters had each other's numbers in case of needing someone to cover a phight in a pinch, but that didn’t stop them from using it to start conversations or make plans when needed.
Right now, Boombox did not want to think about Medkit pulling up his number to message him. Maybe another time it would’ve made his heart flutter, but now it just filled him with nothing but dread. He’d gotten his hopes up for something impossible again, and now he was certain that Medkit was going to want nothing to do with him, not after that massive phuck up. Of course he’d just ran instead of trying to save the situation because when it came down to it, all he really knew how to do was run. He could hang on for maybe a moment more, to try and save some face, but in the end, he always ran away.
Boombox pushed himself away from the door, pacing around his apartment to try and soothe his nerves and the constant spiraling thoughts that just wouldn’t stop. He absent-mindedly scratched at his arms, short nails rubbing against grey skin, trying to figure out how the hell he could save this one. An apology? Another excuse? No, Medkit would see right through it, he saw through him back when they talked outside the hotel, so what good would it do here?
He pressed his hands against his face, feeling how cold they were against his skin to try and keep himself from spiraling down further down the disaster that was his train of thought. It was all just a mess now, and he didn’t know how to get out of it without losing Medkit, like he ever even had him in the first place. What he had was something that was temporary at best, no matter how badly he wanted it to stay or become something real. Boombox knew that someday it’d be gone, either with Medkit being out of reach or shutting him out completely, he just didn’t think it would happen so soon .
Boombox didn’t want it to happen so soon. He wanted just a little longer to l-word Medkit from afar, just a little bit more before Medkit finally told him off for good, and then he’d leave him alone for good and that would be it. No more. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes at the thought, and Boombox made sure the door was locked and the curtains were shut before taking off his visor to wipe them away. The moment they were gone, they were replaced with more, and eventually a pathetic, ugly sob wrenched itself from his throat, and there was no stopping his tears from flowing now as he stumbled over to the bathroom, sinking down onto the tile as another sob passed his lips.
He hated how he cried. Crying looked better on TV with the quiet crying, the perfect ways the tears fell, how everything seemed perfectly timed. When Boombox cried, there was nothing perfect or nice about it. He choked out broken out sobs and took sharp, irregular inhales of air, tears rolling down his cheeks with no signs of stopping, a runny nose and scattered thoughts all over the place, and not to mention how flushed his face got, how red his eyes ended up, and how he just had to curl up or be on the floor because if not, he’d just lean against the closest sturdy thing and flop like a ragdoll.
So, yeah, he hated crying and tried to keep it down as long as he could, but then it just started to spill out sometimes and Boombox wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it. All he could do was try to get back to his apartment in time because there’d be no prying eyes there, and his walls were thankfully not thin, meaning nobody outside of it could hear it. But he felt so small and pathetic, he especially hated that part. It felt like he was a kid again, sprinting around the house to look for his mom and crying on the filthy sofa when he realized that she was gone again and he wouldn’t even know when or if she’d come back.
Boombox sniffled and hiccuped, doing his best to try to wipe some of the tears and snot away with his hands before realizing he really needed some tissues to try and get himself cleaned up. He blindly reached up onto the sink counter, patting around it and trying to feel around for the tissue box because he really didn’t want to get up right at this very moment. Being on the floor felt so nice, but he also didn’t want to let the tears and snot dry on his face because that always just felt gross.
With a frustrated groan, Boombox pulled himself up with the help of the counter, grabbing the tissue box from its spot against the wall and stopping as he saw his reflection in the mirror. He looked like a mess, his hair was all ruffled from his anxious messing with it, wet streaks of tears and snot running down his face, puffy reddened eyes and a flushed face that screamed to the world that Boombox just had one of the most pathetic moments of all time. He hated it.
He leaned back against the wall, sliding back down to the floor and tucking his knees into his chest as he used the tissues from the tissue box to try and clean his face up a bit because he really didn’t want to deal with dried snot or tears on his face after he was done having his moment. It was fine, he’d be fine. He just had to get realistic and let go of hoping for the impossible, again.
But would it really be so bad if he clung onto it, just a little longer? Boombox wondered as he stared up at his bathroom light, the shape of it burning into his vision every time he blinked.
“So you’re telling me Boombox has some sort of secret that you accidentally found out, and then you tried basically asking about it because you couldn’t stop thinking about it, and he ran off?”
Medkit nodded to confirm, swirling the wine in his glass around. Honestly? He needed the alcohol to get through this conversation, because he was right about his assumption earlier after the silent conversation with the other phighter. After he’d gone back home, Sword came knocking to ask what that whole deal was earlier with Boombox leaving so fast, faster than either he or Rocket had ever seen. “It was probably… a bit of a dick move on my part, I will admit,” Medkit commented bitterly, taking a sip of his drink, “I shouldn’t have pushed, but the way he reacted was concerning, to say the least.” He paused for a moment, his gaze flicking over to Sword, “I’m not telling you what that secret is, by the way.”
“Wasn’t gonna ask about it anyway,” Sword frowned, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch cushions, lost in thought before he continued his questioning, “So how did you push it? Did you just like… repeatedly bring it up or what?”
“I brought it up, he denied it, I got more specific, and then he said he had to go and left before I could say anything else,” Medkit repeated for the… however many times Sword had asked how it went down. Bless his heart, but he really needed to hammer in the information repeatedly sometimes before Sword would finally get it. He stared down at the red wine in his glass, frowning deeply at it. Instead of fixing things and clearing his mind like the conversation was supposed to, it gave him more to think about, especially with the worry that had been pooling in his gut ever since Boombox had essentially run off. He wasn’t sure if he was a fan of worrying about the DJ, especially because of how much of a headache he was most of the time.
Medkit watched from the corner of his eye as Sword leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling, clearly still trying to wrap his head around all of this. The healer was also still trying to grasp it all, so he didn’t blame the other phighter for taking his time to think about this whole situation. Finding out that one of the most carefree phighters was guarding something so close was a lot, honestly, and Medkit wished he could go back to a time when he didn’t have this knowledge because now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t even know why he cared so much because all Boombox ever did was annoy him.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that Boombox had seemed so… untouched by the harsh parts of life, or at least it seemed like it at a glance. He acted like a careless Playgrounder through and through, and that definitely contributed to the annoyance he felt towards the DJ the more he thought about it. Annoyed at how he could be so loud and carefree because it felt like he’d never have to see the reality of life, but now he was second guessing that with the recent revelations that had occurred with this unfortunate series of events. Medkit tipped his glass forward a bit, watching the wine slosh forward ever so slightly.
Sword gave a heavy sigh, pulling Medkit from his thoughts as he looked over to him. He dragged his hands down his face, finally sitting up straight and tearing his gaze away from the ceiling, “This is like, a roller coaster of shit. How’d I even get dragged into this?”
“You walked into the area at the worst possible time, then proceeded to silently argue with me, and finally sealed your fate when coming over here for answers,” Medkit answered bluntly, looking away from Sword to take another drink of wine. Honestly, Sword could’ve just left it be and stayed out of it, but he got involved, which was incredibly inconvenient for Medkit because he really couldn’t offer him any help other than advice that sounded like it’d work because he couldn’t tell him about what he’d seen. While it was mainly just out of respect because everyone had their secrets, a part of him just… didn’t want to. He didn’t understand why, it didn’t make sense to him. It confused him just as much as the worry that rolled through him when he thought about each of Boombox’s quick departures.
There was really nothing else for him to do other than raise his glass to his lips again, listening as Sword rattled off ideas on what Medkit could do next. To be honest, he was only half-listening, only catching words such as apologizing, talking, and texting. All things that just led down the same road of facing Boombox again and having another conversation, like the last one went so well.
Maybe he was worried because it was because of his pushing that made Boombox leave so swiftly, maybe it wasn’t even worry and it was just guilt. Medkit wanted to think that was right, but it didn’t feel right. Great SFOTH, he was not going to be sleeping tonight. There was too much running through his brain, too many words going in and out of his ears. All he wanted was to get some peace of mind, and he ended up tangling it all up some more.
Medkit downed the rest of his wine, massaging his forehead with his free hand after. This was a mess he never wanted to get involved in, but he was in it now, and the only clear way out was to clean it up and then leave it behind. Even if he couldn’t help but see Boombox in a slightly different light, knowing that he likely had been hit by the harsh slap of reality at some point, and the constant annoyance came from some form of guard he was putting up to shield himself.
He was really going to need more wine if this train of thought was going to keep moving down those tracks, because he did not want to have an existential crisis over the headache he called Boombox of all inphernals this late at night and be sober about it.