Dents

[+] Tomorrow Comes Today

The morning came with a gentle rain, tapping unheard rhythms along the plastic rooftop. This place breathed music. Despite the dreary weather, I was inspired.

It seemed I had gotten lucky crashing into this dump, after all. It was isolated and had enough resources to last a fair while. It was nice to have foreign company as well, being that the company I had grown accustomed to weren't the pleasant sort.

2D was overjoyed when I accepted his offer. He immediately took me down to the recording studio where the vastness of the structure finally set in.

The building was constructed much like an iceberg, with only a small portion of it being above sea level. The basement was a sprawling mass of corridors and strange rooms. Beneath it was a sub-basement, which was also surprising large. Beneath that was 2D's floor, which was more like a guest room with a portapotty attached.

I wondered to myself why he was being treated so poorly. Ashamed, I quickly pushed the thought from my mind. There didn't need to be a reason. Sometimes people can just be cruel.

That is reality, as I have come to understand it.

The recording studio was spectacular. There was a litany of expensive equipment, gadgets of all makes and models, and bewildering technology that was beyond anything I'd seen before or since. I admired all of the instruments lining the space, treating them with due respect.

My eyes settled on a hand-carved mahogany wood harmonica. It was plated with what I assumed to be real gold. I glanced to 2D who had been silently following me as I explored the room. He'd been watching me and attentively noticed my fascination with the piece.

"Yew wanna play et?"

"Hell yeah," I exclaimed.

My voice echoed off the walls. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat. 2D snickered at my excitement.

"Er, I mean, yes, please."

I snatched it from the stand eagerly, nearly dropping it in my haste. 2D was obviously nervous though he was trying not to show it.

There was a warm feeling in my chest when I looked at him. I hastily averted my eyes.

I examined the harmonica in my hands. The inlay was engraved with an intricately carved anchor along the top. On the bottom edge were the words, 'For my best friend, Stuart Pot.'

"Hey 2D, who's Stuart?"

He grinned, brandishing the gap in his teeth, "'At harmonica's mine, actually."

I studied it intently. Time leapt forward unnoticed. 2D stopped fidgeting with microphones and speakers and things. He observed me. I heard a drop of water tapping against the concrete down the hall.

2D leaned over a panel littered with buttons.

"Give 'is a listen."

He played a solemn hip hop beat followed by a melodica solo that perfectly captured the mood of the rainy day.

"Fink yew can play 'at?"

"Definitely."

2D pressed the button for the beat track again. He snagged a small remote from a nearby bar table. To my surprise, he moved a second microphone next to me, tapping his foot to keep time.