Monachopsis

Chapter 5 Pt. 1

'Why does it feel eerily quiet?' Ranboo thought to himself as he walked into the house. He walked over to the coat rack, which was actually a hall tree they found on the side of the road. Tommy thought that it would be a good idea to paint it. So now, it's plastered with random dates, doodles, and memories. You can't see the yellow base coat unless you knew it was there. He hung his bag, taking out his important belongings, slipped out of his coat, and slipped off his shoes. He walked to the oven and turned it on. 'Something is wrong.' He looked at the fridge and the two sticky notes were still there.

He went into the storage room and opened his compartment of the chesxterdrawers with safe-locks Tubbo built in, and put everything in, minus the cash. Splitting the money into thirds, he put 2 thirds into his back pocket, and the other in the bottom drawer. He walked into the  main room and took out three fourths (3/4) of the two thirds (2/3) he pocketed into the jar atop the fridge. 'What in the world is off? Where are Tubbo and Tommy?'  He decided to walk into the bedroom, since they didn't have anywhere else to be inside the house. Sure enough, Tubbo was laying on the bed on his stomach, tapping away on his computer.

"Tubbo?" Ranboo was surprised by his tone, and Tubbo was too. "Boss man," he immediately rolled to the edge of the bed and slid off into a standing position. "Are you ok?" Ranboo wasn't entirely sure himself, but even if he wasn't, that wasn't new. "My question is if you're ok." Ranboo asked as he walked toward Tubbo. "The house's so, quiet. What's wrong?" Before he got an answer from Tubbo, Tommy spoke up from the bathroom doorway. "Who was that man Ran?"

"Oh, that's what's up." Ranboo looked from Tubbo to Tommy and back to Tubbo once more. "He gave you the rundown on what happened?" All Tubbo did was nod and sit on the stool near the window. The useless, stupid window. All it gave a view of was the very high man in the alleyway, and the trash bins.

"He's Wilbur. The man that got me off the bench? Well, he's the one that gave me the 40 dollar tip. And today he asked if I could make him 50 pronoun tags. For 4 dollars."

Tommy spat, "4 dollars?! That's stupid. He's an idiot."

"No Tom, 4 dollars per tag. That's 200 bucks. I told him to meet me at the park to talk about it."

"Wait, really?"

Ranboo had had Tommy's gaze this whole time, frozen in eye contact with Tommy's grey-blue eyes. He finally looked at Tubbo, and any emotion he was feeling before was thrown aside. "Like, you can just get 200 buck-a-roos, just like that?"

"Yep. Anyways, I'll have to go to the store to get supplies for-"

"No, come into the living room." Tommy interrupted. Ranboo shot a look at Tubbo, but he was mentally occupied with the possible 200 dollars. He was walking behind Tommy, sure, but he wasn't present. Ranboo, on the other hand, was worried.

'Did I do something? Did he find something? Did he dig through my shit?'

He kept thinking as he found himself on the arm of the couch, Tubbo sitting on the rug, and Tommy sitting opposite of Ranboo.

"How did you get that kid to give me 50 dollars? And since when could you talk so much shit?"

Tommy didn't even hesitate to say the words, but he spoke quick so it would be over.

"I really didn't wanna talk about this, but I guess I have to."

Now Tubbo didn't care about money; backstory was on the horizon. They didn't talk about the past much. It brought on a different hurt then going to sleep dinnerless, or washing dishes knowing you're almost over the running water limit you set for yourself, so that debt wasn't a possibility. It hurt deep.

"How do you think I survived before know you two?" Ranboo let this hang in the air, and started speaking right when Tommy looked as if he would try to answer. "I couldn't work at 11," Tommy looked at him with a mix of pity and shock at how young he had been. "So I picked pockets. Sometimes I was a little drug carrier, from one dealer to the next. Any little job I could get my hands on. I was skinny and white, what'd anyone expect of me?"

Tubbo cleared his throat.

"Did you think we'd look down on you? We had to do some stealing of our own the years we didn't know you."

Ranboo sighed. "I don't know. I really don't."

"I think I get it though." Tommy stared at his shoes. "Is that why you're so worried about us? Our safety? It's different from how we're worried about you. Did you..." he trailed off.

Ranboo, after arguing with himself over it, finished his thought.

"Did I make enemies? Is that why I'm worried about both of you guys' saftey?"

He simply nodded.

Ranboo glanced over toward Tubbo, and a sad smile painted his face as he slid off the arm of the chair, onto the seat. He looked down and, almost drowsily, replied.

"Bullseye, tumtum."