Chapter Text
It was November 28th, a quiet day as a figure with white, dyed (blue surrounding black) hair wandered about Unstable University’s campus. Eggchan looked as only an eerie silence followed.
It was unusual, that there wasn’t a voice draped in sarcasm or a loud cackle following the jokes Egg would crack — get it?
…
The pun only emphasised his isolation, as his thoughts were left unwelcomed by the uncharacteristic silence within the campus.
“Egg! Turn around, bro!”
He obliged as the familiar voice was soon accompanied by a tall, lean frame with a frilly, long-sleeved, white shirt that complimented his figure, while purple hair cascaded down near his knees.
“Where were you bro? You're like– 5 minutes late, again. I mean, I guess it's better than last time but like…” he trailed off, one path leading to another.
“My bad bro. Classes are just boring, y’know? Can't help taking a nap when I know it all,” Wemmbu joked, finishing with the slightest airy note despite the lack of sarcasm — as if a melody gone too long. It was off, he sounded… tired.
“Are you okay?” Egg asked, immediately pausing in his steps — as they headed to the dormitories — as if to highlight the question.
“Feeling better than ever,” Wemmbu answered, tone unserious as he jested. But the angel didn't miss the single second the silence had dragged on too long for. “You gonna keep up or… what?”
“Oh, my bad.”
“Bro, lock in Egg,” he teased, shared laughter draining seeds of doubt.
“Bro,” the angel managed between giggles, “this is slander on my name. I’m literally the All-Seeing Eye, bro.”
“You have glasses for a reason, bro.”
“I wear contacts–!” He breathed in. “Yo can this be qualified as harassment?”
“Bro–” he cackled, “well, it's not like you’d ever want to get rid of me, so…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right bro.”
…
Somehow, in the span of 5 minutes, the conversation derailed from some “romantic story like none that has come before” that Egg had played through…
"You actually, like– play video games? Bro, I thought you were glued to the library???”
“Brother, just ‘cause I enjoy reading doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate other forms of media. Plus, it was literally the game you were begging me to play a few weeks ago.”
“Ohh… wait, so, the story's actually important?”
Egg decided that self-inflicted harm through smacking his forehead would be the best way of conveying frustration. Wemmbu could certainly be… something else at times.
“Well it usually is,” he deadpanned.
“Oh. Well, that's a shame I guess,” Wemmbu only shrugged, ignorant to the sighs of disbelief and disappointment.
“It's literally a part of the newest update bro.”
“Well, I don't really… care?”
“Brother, just read it for once.”
“But I don't wanna–”
“Bro.”
“That just seems like a lot of effort.”
“You spend most of your free time on Minecraft.”
“Well, I don't have to read.”
“I’m just saying you most likely have the time for it. And it's literally just reading, bro. It cannot be that hard.”
“Okayyy, okayyy…” he surrenders, knowing it’d end as a losing battle.
… to the time Wemmbu burnt four perfectly-good bagels consecutively…
themanbehindtheslaughter
yo egg
egg
eggchannnnn
eggchan
Yeah?
themanbehindtheslaughter
what do i do if i burnt four bagels in a row
eggchan
brother i am not google
search ts up dawg
themanbehindtheslaughter
but i dun wanna
eggchan
bro.
… to Wemmbu just ranting about the horrible education sysem.
“Brooooooooo…” he dragged, another warning of the barrage of complaints he had in store. “Why did my math teacher give me a project where we have to write an essay. An ESS-AY.”
“Brother that's lowkey stupid,” Egg laid out flatly, prepared to one-sidedly debate against the math teacher to support his Day 1’s cause.
“I KNOW.” A hand closes in on Wemmbu’s face to brush curls of lavender away. “And, she didn't even give proper specifics or anything. Like, how do I make five paragraphs on the general theory behind–” he cuts abruptly with a groan.
“Bro what… that's lowkey insane.” But despite his words, Egg’s traitorous mouth only delivers words sprinkled with a grin, laughter threatening to spill out.
“Bro, I can literally hear you giggling from like– a mile away. You are not slick buddy.” Wemmbu huffed at the angel’s failure to hide his amusement, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly raised.
And soft laughter can be heard from the dormitories as the pair progresses towards Wemmbu’s dorm room, soon alternating to more of their usual banter.
As the door crept closer in sight, Wemmbu huried ahead — careful to stay close to Egg — and began unlocking the room.
The two headed inside, met with only silence as the inhabitants seemed to have left.
“Yo, where’s the others at?”
“Oh, uh… pretty sure Parrot’s still here. In his room or something. Flame and Spoke left to hangout with Mah-pic and uh… that melody guy, I think.”
“Mapicc and Lomedy?”
“Yeah, those two.”
The two passed by the kitchen and headed towards Wemmbu & Spoke’s shared bedroom. As they headed in, the co-owner of said room paused at his bed’s side as Egg looked for room to sit at the nearby desk.
“Your rooms messier than usual,” he noted, managing to put aside the few textbooks that crowded the chair.
“Oh, I’ll clean that later. By the way, you know them?”
“Who?”
“Mah- whatever, and uh Lom…” he trails off.
“Lomedy,” Egg corrects. “And Mapicc. Bro, you lowkey need to get better at remembering names.
“Not my fault they're a part of the chungus squad,” Wemmbu replies casually, shrugging it off as he pulls out a violin from his case.
“But I’m friends with them and Theo– bro, am I a chungi too???”
“Yea.”
Egg replies exasperatedly, his nonchalant demeanor wearing off, “What!?”
Wemmbu laughs for a bit, a grin as his attention envelops the exquisite violin — wood without flaw as if it wasn't a companion throughout many of his years, enduring each one without wear. Gambit was its name.
He had an obsession before, admiration that adorned his overall excitement as he played. Melodies flowed, and emotion stirred in each note — whether through a sudden burst of sound or a quiet hum as countless stories built, all without a word. How could he, Wemmbu, simply not adore such beauty? Such radiance?
But beauty always seemed to come at a cost.
Gambit was a normal violin (although its size was noticeably close to a viola, despite how miniscule violins, typically, were), yet he held it like his heart. Was his heart. Something so fragile, so delicate, and even beautiful if it weren't his.
Gambit, an escape, advantage, and weakness all in one. His vulnerabilities on a silver platter, as a melody that trapped him; sealed his fate. Gambit, a bloodstained cage with its temptations at the cost of demise.
“–Wemmbu?”
“Huh?”
His thoughts ceased as Egg looked him in the eyes, narrowed in contrast to his own.
“You looked like you were zoning out, bro. You good?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” he replied, the lie slipping out smoothly. Yet his best friend didn't seem to believe it.
“Are you sure, Wemmbu?”
“100% bro.”
Another, easy, lie, as if his shoulders hadn’t tensed while he looked over to his bow he had yet to release from its clips. Right. He was supposed to… practice.
He hastily flipped the holders, freeing his bow before it fell back in his hands with a familar rhythm. And it stayed there, just for a second longer than it was supposed to.
Egg watched as Wemmbu started tightening his bow, almost an idle act if it weren’t for the thoughts racing in his mind. Normally, he’d feel excitement for his best friend’s playing. After all, Wemmbu was exceptional at it, keeping a steady tempo, yet, dramatising each and every note he could to a flawless absolute.
He’d read and listen, applaud, and repeat, until Wemmbu was satisfied with his performance. Then they'd talk and play Minecraft or something. It was a freeing routine they kept.
But… now? He could only feel trapped in his own worries, looking at the same bits of hesitation, the way shoulders tensed, the way time ticked on and on until it’d been nearly 6 minutes past the agreed arrangement. Something was off, and Egg didn't know what.
“Wemmbu…” he addressed, biting the inside of his mouth below his lip. A unsteady pause was left as the other’s head turned to him, the rosin left just above the bow.
Wemmbu looked tired, unorganised. And Wemmbu wasn’t messy. His best friend always despised messes, so why was his room left cluttered with clothes and notes? Why could Egg see knots within tediously-cared-for hair?
“…Are you actually okay? Like, you've been practicing for hours daily and–“ a pause was left, a second that wandered too long as Wemmbu stood still. “I’m getting concerned, especially since you've been falling asleep in class,” Egg decided, his previous hesitation left ignored.
“Oh, uh… my bad, bro. Didn’t mean to make you worry or– anything, bro,” Wemmbu added alongside a light chuckle. “I mean… I have to practice or I’ll start to actually make mistakes like all the other chungis. I’m also first chair, and I really don't want Theo taking that,” Wemmbu humoured, voice light unlike tense shoulders.
“Yeah, you might get better but you're never gonna be perfect. It's okay to take a break. But it’s not okay to neglect your health, bro.”
He stayed silent, unsure as the words hit him. The air was already tense, two sides of the scale struggling to maintain the harmony it so desired. But, when one wrong thing is added again, how can you expect it to ever achieve that relationship again?
After all, perfection was always going to be something impossible to have.
“You’re my best friend, Wem.”
And it sounded like a plea.
But…
And it was one, desperate as it pressed against the silence.
…do I deserve that?
Wemmbu only stood, his ignorance a start to even more. He didn't want to burden Egg. He didn't want to lose him either. Yet, it seemed like all he was doing was ruining something, someone who trusted him.
“Fine. I mean, I guess you're right… I can take a break after an hour or– something.”
“That’s progress,” Egg remarked, tacking on a 20 minute requirement.
“Yeah, sure I guess,” the other easily complied, still afraid to lose that fragile thing called trust — even as he slowly pushed Egg away, knowingly.
Always so selfish, Wemmbu.
You never change, even after what happened with Loppezz and him.
“I can handle this stuff, y’know? It's not that bad,” Wemmbu remarked, an easy smile haunting his lips.
But the view that Egg recalled was different, belied that promise. He expected hoped for better.