Where Is Your Rider (OFFICIAL WATTPAD UPLOAD)

Chapter 11

Tommy was dancing when everything started to go wrong.

He'd decided to try and relax for a moment, awkwardly bobbing and swaying to the music—this song had been called Blue Monday before the bombs, but the DJ referred to it by a different name—on the edge of the dance floor, trying to put his current circumstances out of his mind.

He needed a break. The past few days had been a nightmare.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was at homecoming last year in the school gym. It felt about the same, with raucous shouting of the crowd but the smell; everything smelled of sweat and cheap alcohol and Tommy didn't understand why it was so obvious to him.

It was starting to get to him.

He grimaced, awkwardly dancing his way towards an unguarded tray of full shot glasses. Out of curiosity, he snatched one and drank it.

He gagged. It tasted terrible.

Water, he thought, struggling to hold down the urge to vomit. He needed water—

—someone shouldered past him.

Tommy stumbled to a nearby overflowing trash bin and threw up.

He could hear some irritated yells in his peripherals as he retched and choked, his throat burning and his eyes watering as he fumbled to wipe his mouth, and then...

Tommy hastily scrambled away from the trash bin, eyes widening in alarm.

The person who'd shoved him, the one currently shouldering their way through the crowd towards the stairs, was none other than Ranboo. Even weirder, he wasn't wearing his sunglasses, and his eyes were... glowing purple?

"The hell?" Tommy mumbled, watching in confusion and mounting apprehension.

When Ranboo reached the foot of the stairs, the bouncer (Purpled? Was that his name?) suddenly walked up, a scowl on his face as he said something and blocked Ranboo's path. Ranboo, however, barely slowed, grabbing Purpled by the neck and slamming him out of the way and into the wall so hard that the old analog clock hanging nearby rattled.

Purpled, clearly stunned, wasn't able to get up in time to stop Ranboo from dashing up the stairs.

Tommy's heart dropped into his toes.

In the short time he'd known the guy, he'd never seen Ranboo act so... robotic, and that weird purple glow in his eyes didn't look right. Even weirder, Ranboo was never that aggressive.

Something was wrong.

Tommy gritted his teeth, his own self-interests frantically battling his sense of altruism for a moment before he snarled in frustration and dashed after Ranboo.

"Damn it," he hissed, reaching for the knife Sam had given him. "We're even now, Tubbo."

———

"Ranboo," Tubbo tried the radio again, sucking in a trembling breath, shivering against the cold as he sat on the wing of his glider. "D—do you copy?"

His tears were hot on his cheeks, and puffs of steam came out with every exhale into the cold evening air. His scars still burned with phantom pain as he clutched his radio, shaking miserably as he listened to static.

"Why," He mumbled hopelessly, shuddering. "Goddamn it. Why."

Why did everyone he cared about turn on him?

Why did everything he built get destroyed?

Why didn't he learn from his mistakes?