Joey and The Ink Machine. || A BATIM AU FANFICTION.

THE OLD SONG - PART 3

Joey had walked away from Henry, leaving Henry to stand alone as he joyfully chattered to the other employees with the usual grin on his face. It was almost startling how such a normally cheerful man could apparently have such a temper—though maybe that was why Henry feared hi.. feared making him mad so much. Henry stood in a corner of the room, his eyes drawing over to Joey yet again.

Joey was chattering with the employees, his bright smile being the only thing accompanying him as always. In a way, Henry almost understood why Joey was angry with him so easily. Henry was, in comparison, an irritating sight—-he never added anything to any sort of conversation and always just kind of stood there. Whereas Joey's charisma usually guided him enough to get through the conversation. It was no wonder no-one liked him as much as Joey did. That's what he thought anyway, considering Joey always seemed to go out on a limb just to prove this to him. Always saying anytime Henry tried to join the conversation—"Don't be silly! You'll just embarrass me! And you wouldn't want that now, would you, old pal?"

..yeah, he wouldn't want that indeed.

Still, as Henry's eyes lingered to the liquid of the coffee cup he held in his hands—his lips curled into a more noticeable frown. That little incident down at the music-floor as he was going to give Jack those papers still pierced his brain, forcing itself into him as a memory. It wasn't any of his concern. This—-he knew. He had been told plenty of times that certain things weren't for him to worry about to know that something like this was probably one of those times.

And yet—something yelled at him from the back of his mind that something was up. That he couldn't just act like nothing happened. But at the same time, he didn't just want to waltz out on his job for a few hours simply because he was worried about some weird thing he saw Sammy do a little earlier on in the day. After all, it could have just been literally anything but something concerning, especially considering how oddly chaotic the studio could be at times.

But he couldn't ignore it. No matter how much he tried. Henry barely lifted his head, his eyes lingering back to Joey who had his back turned with a grin—laughing at something whoever he was talking to must have said. Henry paused. His eyes then lingered back down at his hand, and then to his reflection in the liquid.

He stared, and stared.. until his frown suddenly became more determined, and he furrowed his brows. Silently, he lifted his head upward again, approaching one of the tables and quietly placed the mug on the surface—letting out a mere grunt as he struggled with his crutches.

And while no one was watching, Henry silently turned around, and made his way toward the staircase—-slipping away into the darkness behind the curtains.

————

Henry was hoping he wouldn't be gone for long. After all, with Joey—it was hard to tell how he'd react sometimes. There was no telling if he'd either freak out on Henry for slipping away like that without telling him (despite having already told him not to interfere with his other conversations), or if he simply wouldn't care—for he always had more important things to do.

But the thought of what Joey would think was hard to process in this moment. Not when the confusion of what he had seen was more dominant in his mind. There was a chance it could have been something completely explainable.. even if it didn't really seem like something like this could have an explanation. And a part of him wasn't really sure if going near Sammy was a good idea after what he had witnessed, but.. he wasn't sure if dismissing it for his own safety was a good idea.

Sammy never acted like this. Sure, he could be grumpy. But he usually didn't behave so.. weird. Henry didn't really want to think because of the photo he had seem Sammy place on the shelf of the post that maybe he had some kind of personal motive against Joey, or something more.. no, no. Sammy wasn't like that. He couldn't have thought of him like that just because of something like this.

Henry was sure this had an explanation. Or was just some weird prank that he was maybe taking a little too seriously. He.. wasn't really sure if he wasn't supposed to be taking something like this seriously, especially with how hectic this place was.

He barely had a time to think of that though. For as quickly as he found himself slipping away, he found himself back down at the same area. The same area with the posts, and the staircase that led down to the area in the first place. As he stood, he could only let out a mere sigh.

"..well, here I am." Henry remarked aloud to himself. "Now, what do I do?"

He knew he had come down here to either investigate further, or just question Sammy about what he had seen earlier. A part of him wanted to tell Joey about this. After all, he was the boss and could take care of the situation more than he could. But.. something told him not to. He wasn't sure why. It just did. So.. he listened. Despite not normally even trusting himself, he listened.

After a few moments of standing, Henry grunted, and began to limp foward around the posts—there was a hallway up ahead where he could go through to wherever the music area had been. While he hadn't been down here that much, he could recall that fairly easily.

He began to walk around the posts so he could get to the darkness of the hallway from which Sammy had emerged, and get to the hallway that led to the music area in the first place. Henry took only a few steps foward—grunting with each limp.

But then he paused. His eyes caught sight of something. It wasn't that out of place compared to how it was before. But the sight was.. definitely interesting.

The photo Sammy had placed of himself and Joey beforehand was now slightly different. On the area where Joey's face was, his face had been rather harshly scribbled out.

Henry stared for a moment. He hadn't remembered the photo having any sort of scribbles on it. He paused with a frown. For some reason, he began to feel his skin become oddly clammy, and something deep within his chest harshly thumped.

Still, he let out a sigh.

"..jesus.. what is this?"

He said aloud to himself. Something like this, again, didn't seem like a big deal. So why did it feel so.. oddly concerning?

Henry brushed off all worries within his head with a frown. He limped foward, and then slipped the photo into his pocket as silently as he could before then turning back around. He could investigate a little later. For now, if things really were of such deep concern, it was probably best to get out of there as fast as he could and show this to someone.

He began to make his way to the staircase, but.. he then heard something. A faint whisper of some sort. A familiar, masculine whisper.

"..can I get an amen, Henry?"

Henry swiftly turned his head around, alarmed and ready to see whoever the source of voice might have been. Yet..

There was no one there.

Henry glanced from side to side. No matter how much he looked at the shadows that surrounded the area, there wasn't anyone there. He could feel his eyes widen, and his mouth unconsciously hung open by itself. What on earth had that been? His brows barely raised, and he let out an anxious grunt.

"What the hell..?!"

He remarked this aloud to himself. Yet the only reply he got was the sound of mere silence. After a few moments of staring and staring, Henry was starting to get the feeling that maybe being down there for any longer wasn't exactly a good idea.

So, with hesitancy, he turned back around, and began to limp toward the staircase—faster this time. At least as fast as he could go.