Work Text:
"So, why'd you ask me to hang out, Happyman?" Racket asked, crossing her arms as she sat down on one of the deck chairs, watching as Happyman walked over. "Well?" she pressed.
"Are you okay?" Happyman asked, sitting down next to her on a different deck chair. "You and Gumball have been arguing for a while now, like, since we all arrived," he added. "So, I thought I'd ask if you're okay."
Racket stiffened. She hadn't been asked that in a while, if at all.
"I...I just...That alliance Gumball started..." Racket started, uncrossing her arms, "ADTHR, that's what they're called."
Happyman blinked a little, "ADTHR? What...What does that stand for?"
Racket inhaled, letting out a shaky, humourless laugh, "Alliance Dedicated To Hating Racket." She answered, shaking her head, "I-I'm fine, I don't care, I just...It kinda hurts...I feel...I feel like a villain..." she continued, unable to keep her mask up, tears welling up in her eyes, "I-I don't mean it- I just don't know how to interact with people other than being their rival!"
"May I ask why? Is it your parents?"
Racket froze at Happyman's question, she didn't even talk. The girl burst out into tears while nodding, trembling as Happyman got off his chair and sat next to her, "I-I don't know what to do-" she sobbed, clinging to Happyman as she cried against his shoulder.
"You're 13," Happyman answered, "No shit, you're going to be off in this situation-"
"No! I've always been like this! I-I have to always win! You don't get it! I'm just like this!" Racket yelled tearfully, standing up and pacing around a little bit, "They-They need me to win every time. Every track meet better have a new score, every tournament I need to win, and if I don't-" Racket's words caught in her throat, the 13-year-old sitting back down next to Happyman and just crying.
"...It's okay, I'm team leader, you don't have to win for us, just do your best to not get eliminated," Happyman said soothingly, "Pay ADTHR no mind, you're not a villain, you're 13."
"But- it feels like I am!" Racket sobbed, hiccuping a little as Happyman pulled her into a hug.
Happyman gently rubbed Racket's back with one hand, the other resting on her head. "You're not. You're 13, you don't deserve to have an entire alliance dedicated to hating you just cause you're playing the game."
"You just lost the game-" Racket babbled tearfully, unable to stop herself from saying it.
"Fuck!" Happyman yelled, "See- You're funny! You're nowhere near the villain they make you think you are."
Racket wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "Thanks- I feel a bit better now- I-I hope Microphone's okay...Wherever he is..."
"Me too," Happyman nodded, standing up, holding his hand out, "Come on, we should probably get back, I think Playing Card's left his house..."
"Win? For Microphone." Racket proposed, holding out her hand.
Happyman stared before nodding, "For Microphone." he repeated, shaking Racket's hand. The older teammate walking back over to the yacht's wheel to take them back to land, "I'm glad you opened up to me, we're a team."
Racket nodded...A team. She'd always gone solo, even on her track team, she cared about her own score more than anything. But, now? She just wanted to win for her team, or at least die trying. She had to.
For Microphone.