Look What I Found!

Ch. 29

Mike was lying in bed, phone in hand, waiting for dinner to be ready. He scrolled through his family's accounts, missing them. He watched as they kept posting missing posts about him, but they were becoming very few in time. They were moving on. Slowly but surely, they were. He didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't want them to be stuck on his disappearance forever, but was it selfish of him to think they were moving on too fast?

Mike's door opened, and he hurriedly closed his phone, tossing it to the side. Went stood in the doorway awkwardly as he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I thought this was, um. I'm not interrupting anything, am I? You are a teenage boy and need his priv-"

"No! No! Nothing like that. I was just scrolling through Facebook. You scared me, is all."

He nodded, not seeming convinced. "Good, good."

Mike spotted the guitar behind him, and his interest was piqued. "You play?"

Went looked down and proudly smiled. "Sure do. Richie does, too."

"Really?"

"Taught him everything he knows," Went nodded, "I was just looking for the studio room."

"Studio room?" Mike asked, confused. He's gotten lost in this house countless times and has never encountered any room resembling a studio.

"Richie never showed you?" Mike shook his head as Went chuckled. "I guess he wouldn't, huh? He's not much of a fan of his old radio show."

"Richie had a radio show?"

"Back in his heyday." Mike followed him down the hall as Went kept talking. "He was quite famous, constantly making jokes, playing music. The usual stuff you would do on a radio show. But, for some reason, he's embarrassed by it."

"Why?"

"Don't know, but if you want to listen to some of his episodes, I'm sure you can find some tapes lying around here somewhere. Or, better yet, you might be able to find some on that little device. Um, what's that app called? The music app? Youtube! Yea, you could probably find some of his old clips on there and listen to them." Mike nodded his head enthusiastically as they stopped in front of a door. "I think this is it!" He twists the knob, letting himself in like he did back in Mike's room. Mike's jaw dropped at the sight as Went started coughing. "Must never clean this room. It's way too dusty in here."

"This is his studio room?" It wasn't nearly as fancy as the rest of the house. A long, single desk sat off to the side, multiple recording devices and speakers covering the top. Mike would love to see if any of it still worked. They looked to be in good condition. They were just dusty. A long white couch sat in the opposite corner, more mics above each seat as if one were to have guests over. Beside it was a lonesome keyboard, dust gathering on the keys.

Mike goes over, pressing a few keys in interest as Went chuckles, watching his reaction and finding his curiosity amusing. "You have to plug it in for it to work first."

Mike blushes as he watches him sit on the couch, just now noticing the guitars lined up on the wall. Went had placed his guitar up in the vacant spot before pulling out an old, beaten one. The neck looked a bit cracked along with the body. A few strings are broken or completely missing. Even one of the tuning pegs was gone. All in all, that guitar has seen better days.

Went chuckled, "this was Richie's first guitar. I got it for him when he was 16, and he wanted to be a musician."

"What happened to that?" Mike asked, taking a seat beside him.

"Don't know," Went spoke, "but afterward, he decided he wanted to be a radio show host back in college. Next thing we knew, he was getting gigs at local pubs as a stand-up comedian, which we knew nothing about, then wham! He's famous. Then it went downhill."