ｏｍｏｒｉ： １０ ｙｅａｒｓ (2022 ver)

thursday (part 2)

warnings: mentions of self-harm/scratches, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide

"...So, you're telling me we've been sharing a dream?"

"I-I know it sounds hard to believe."

"Hard to believe is an understatement, I think." I tapped my foot rhythmically on the hospital's tiled floor, holding my fist to my mouth as he spoke. "Is it, like... magic or something?"

"I don't know, maybe??"

The silence was suffocating. I was stressing. Hero was lost in thought and staring blankly at the wall, his eyes glazed over. For somebody who had been in a comatose state for a while, he looked exhausted. But, the quiet was broken by the sound of my vibrating phone. I answered the call quickly, reading the caller ID: Sashi Kaube. The bassist of Star Navy.

"Sunny, where the fuck are you?? Rehearsal is starting in five minutes!" they snapped at me, the sounds of the others tuning their instruments in the background.

"It is?"

"Duh!! Where are you, we're gonna play the song today!! You know, the song you wrote? The one you sing?"

"Oh sh- crud, right. I'm visiting a friend in the hospital right now, but I'll head out now, ok? Practice another while waiting for me."

They groaned loudly, but ultimately agreed. "Fine. Get over here asap, ok?"

"Alri-"

They hung up the phone before I could finish my sentence. I turned over to Hero, who had snapped out of his trance and was staring at me. "Work?"

"Yeah, work. I'm so sorry, I've got to go. I promise I'll come back, ok? Then we can talk more about... whatever the hell this is."

"Ok. I'll see you around, Sunny."

With a weak wave, I dashed out of the door, giving a short explanation to the others before rushing to my car. As I drove down the road, I sang along to the radio in hopes of warming up whatever voice I had left. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, blinking away any remaining tears.

When I arrived, the whole band was there. Silver, the drummer. Sashi, the bassist. Poppy, the lead guitarist. Kye, the keyboard player. And, finally, Charlie, the lead singer with the total of two personality traits: fluffy hair and a British accent.

"Finally! Thought you died again, dude!" Silver greeted, waving wildly.

"Sorry for being late."

"Sashi told us about your friend in the hospital. Are they ok?" Poppy asked, plucking a few strings. She didn't even bother to look up at me.

She pretended to care. None of us really cared about one another. I never knew anything about them other than their names. We were just forced to be in a group together in one of the world's blandest yet most successful industry plants. I didn't fit into their dynamic very well, yet I was one of the most loved, second only to Charlie. I guess they grouped me into the 'shy little emo boy' archetype? Seriously. Fans think they know me, but they don't understand a thing.

"Yeah, he woke up from a coma today."

"That's good to hear." The response was monotonous and deadpan. "Anyway, enough of that, time to practice."

After hours upon hours upon hours of rehearsal, I was starting to grow weary. My throat felt hoarse and my fingers were beginning to form more callouses.

"Alright, that should be good for now. Our last concert in Faraway is gonna be in two days, so you guys better not blow it. I'm gonna go sign some autographs," Sashi said, turning on their heels and beginning to walk off.