Emotions Gone Ballistic [Whitty x Boyfriend] DISCONTINUED

Aftermath

Boyfriend's POV

The battle between the nearly-exploding bomb and the short rapper was surely intense. The loud electric-guitar sounding screeches coming from Whitty's vocal cords made Boyfriend struggle to keep up whilst somewhat covering his ears so he wouldn't go deaf to the noise. Though it was challenging, once he got himself used to the beat and the pace Whitty was screaming at, he managed to beep and boop his way on top, winning the rap battle.

Whitty seemed like he was absolutely devastated. The sheer amount of rage, confusion, and his defeat was enough to send the sentient bomb into an even deeper mental breakdown. He crouched down, holding his head to attempt and prevent himself from exploding under the amount of stress he was under while breathing heavily yet trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. Instead of demanding a rematch, swearing him out some more, or even trying to kill boyfriend (which he REALLY felt like doing), he instead fled with his hands pressing harshly against his own head whilst the match on his head burned with an intense flame. Boyfriend was surprised at the sudden turn of events and even tried to follow the bomb through the alleyway. But Whitty's long legs could carry him over huge distances without much effort, leaving Boyfriend in the dust. Boyfriend couldn't help but let out a few guilty beeps as it wasn't his intention to upset Whitty to this degree. Granted, he did pester him into a rap battle.. alright, 2 rap battles.... It was at this point Boyfriend felt even more guilty, being the cause of Whitty running away and having a literal breakdown in front of him. Maybe he should've let Whitty win? No, that'd be out of pity and that might've made Whitty feel even worse. Boyfriend let out a tiny sigh, dropping his microphone and debating whether he should go and look for Whitty or not. He'd probably be killed by the 8'11 bomb boi, though he wouldn't be able to sleep well for a month if he just let this be how it is. He had to at least be able to tell Whitty he's sorry..

Whitty's POV

While Boyfriend was stuck debating on what he should do, Whitty was in a separate alleyway, crumpled into a little ball. He was cursing Boyfriend and himself out as black liquid trickled from his eyes. He wasn't safe anywhere. Not from that rock star, that short child-looking brat fighting him and winning.. It didn't matter what happened between whatever or whoever, because as long as he was involved, he wasn't safe. The rap battle even started off.. quite fun. It had been a while since he had rap battled in general against.. well, anyone really. But that stupid.. stupid blue-haired idiot.. he pushed his buttons in all the wrong ways. But the worst part? Whitty had went full ballistic and that blue-highlighter-hair-colored ASSHOLE was still able to win.. Whitty's vocal cords were still sore just from him going ballistic. The way he was screaming and the sheer volume really tore up his esophagus. Even his silent cursing was raspy, causing him to cough and wheeze every few seconds. His eyes felt bloodshot and his eyelids were heavy. Whitty realized he didn't even blink throughout the entirety of the fight, making him feel like even more of a hot-headed idiot. If he wasn't careful, he could've lost his head.. literally. He could've exploded the entire alleyway right then and there from the sheer stress and rage he felt in that moment. He wasn't ready to get up and move on just yet. He wanted revenge. No, he didn't want to kill that brat that challenged him. He wanted to absolutely humiliate him. Make him regret ever coming near him. It was such searing anger that fueled Whitty, until he heard something that made him freeze. He quickly dried his black tears with the sleeve of his hoodie. Whitty's head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, his blood feeling like it was boiling in his skin.

".. beepba? Boop beep, skaboop."

It. Was. That. Fucking. BRAT.