The days after you published your first song under the moniker DOOM were filled with a gnawing anxiety that you couldn't shake. Every spare moment you had, you found yourself glued to the laptop screen, refreshing the page over and over, hoping to see the view count rise. But every time you looked, the number barely budged. A handful of plays, a couple of comments, but nothing that indicated the breakthrough you so desperately wanted.
Each refresh that yielded no change chipped away at your confidence. You knew breaking out of Zaun with your music wouldn't be easy, but the reality of the slow start was harder to bear than you'd anticipated. Your mother tried to reassure you, telling you to be patient, to keep pushing forward, but the weight of her sacrifice for you made the wait even more excruciating.
One afternoon, the tension became too much to bear. The walls of your small apartment felt like they were closing in on you, the silence suffocating. You needed to get out, to clear your head and feel like you were still connected to the world.
Grabbing your jacket, you leave the apartment and make your way to one of the busier districts of Zaun. The streets were alive with people, a constant hum of activity that provided some much-needed distraction. As you walked, you found yourself heading toward one of your favourite spots—a small food stall tucked between two towering buildings, known for serving the best fried noodles in Zaun.
The smell hit you before you even saw the place, and for the first time in days, you felt a small smile tug at your lips. You stepped up to the counter, exchanging a few coins for a steaming bowl of noodles, the warm, savoury aroma doing wonders to ease the tension in your chest. You found a spot to sit nearby, the bustle of the market around you a comforting backdrop as you dug into your meal.
But just as you started to relax, something caught your eye. A flash of pink hair in the crowd—a colour so distinctive that it stopped you in your tracks. You looked up and saw her: Vi, the enforcer who was as much a legend in Zaun as the city's smog-filled skies. She was moving through the crowd with a purpose, a worn piece of paper in her hand that she showed to anyone who would give her a second glance.
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Curiosity piqued, you watched as Vi approached a vendor not far from where you sat, holding up the paper. The vendor shook his head, and Vi sighed, frustration clear on her face. Something about the scene tugged at your memory, a sense of familiarity that you couldn't quite place.
Then, as Vi turned slightly, you caught a glimpse of the paper she was holding. Your heart skipped a beat. It was a picture of Powder.
You immediately stood up, your bowl of noodles forgotten, as you made your way over to Vi, your mind racing. What was she doing with a picture of Powder? Had something happened to her?
"Hey," You called out as you approached, Your voice laced with a mix of concern and uncertainty. "You're looking for Powder?"
Vi turned to face you, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she sized you up. "Yeah. You know her?"
You quickly nodded, the memories of Powder flooding back—her wild laughter, the way you both used to race through the streets, the bond you'd shared before everything went wrong. "We grew up together," you said quietly, trying to keep your emotions in check. "Haven't seen her in years, though."
Vi's expression softened slightly, and she folded the picture back into her pocket. "I'm trying to find her," she said, her tone more open now. "She's... in a bad place. Been running wild for a while, causing all sorts of trouble. I'm worried about her."
Your heart ached at the thought. You'd always feared that she had gone too far down the wrong path, and now it seemed your fears were confirmed. You gestured toward the bench where You'd been sitting. "Want to talk? I could tell you what I know."
Vi hesitated for a moment, looking around the bustling street, then nodded. The two of them sat down, and you handed her the extra pair of chopsticks you'd grabbed on impulse. Vi accepted them with a nod of thanks, and you both ate in silence for a moment, the tension between them easing slightly.
"She was always a bit of a troublemaker," You began after a while, your mind drifting back to the days when you and Powder had been inseparable. "But it wasn't always like this. We had dreams, you know? Big ones. We wanted to change the world, make Zaun a better place. But something... shifted. I don't know when it happened, but she started to lose herself."
Vi listened intently, her usual tough exterior softened by the concern she clearly felt for Powder. "I've been hearing the same thing from everyone," she said, her voice heavy with worry. "She's out there, somewhere, but no one can find her. And when they do... it's like she's not the same person any more."
You looked down at your hands, guilt gnawing at you. "I should have done more to help her," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I was just a kid, too. I didn't know how to handle it."
Vi put a hand on your shoulder, surprising you with the gentleness of the gesture. "Don't blame yourself," she said firmly. "She made her own choices. All we can do now is try to bring her back before it's too late."
You looked at her hopefully at the mention of bringing her back.
You both sat in silence for a few moments, watching the street, the noise of the market fading into the background as you both thought of the girl you were trying to save. For you, the encounter with Vi stirred up emotions you'd tried to bury—your guilt over Powder, your fear that you'd lost her forever, and the nagging doubt that your music would never be enough to make things right.
Finally, Vi stood up, slipping you a piece of paper with her number on it. "Thanks for talking.... what is your name?" you look up and reply while taking the note "it's y/n" "well it was a pleasure y/n" she said, her voice gruff but sincere. "If you hear anything about her, let me know. And if you ever need anything... well, I owe you one."
You nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness as you watched her walk away. You'd always known Powder was out there, somewhere, but hearing about her from Vi made it all the more real. As you sat there, your half-finished bowl of noodles growing cold beside you, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever see Powder again—and if you did, what kind of person she would be.
The anxiety over your music seemed almost trivial in comparison, but it was still there, nagging at the back of your mind. As you stood up and started making your way back home, you resolved to keep pushing forward. Whether it was through your music or by helping Vi find Powder, you had to do something. Because in a city like Zaun, where everything seemed to be falling apart, holding on to the things that mattered was the only way to survive.
