Our Silent Song | a c!tntduo band au fic

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(tw: panic attack)

This wasn't exactly what Quackity thought that he would be doing on a Friday night.

Admittedly, he was open to delving into the nightlife scene from time to time, but music wasn't really his thing. Of course, he liked music, he had songs he enjoyed and ones not so much. But here he was stood in the bustle of a small venue gig surrounded by the smell of sweet alcohol and sweat.

The bass thumped in his chest rhythmically as he stood, arms by his side. Everyone around him swaying and jostling to the music. But he was motionless. In reality he was trying to remember how he had ended up in the bar in the first place.

His eyes lay on the singer in the middle of the stage.

Despite how little he was processing of what he saw as he tried more to concentrate on coherently thinking, he watched still. The way his hands clutched around the microphone as he sung unfamiliar words. Sweat glistened across his forehead, the room did feel stuffy.

At the beginning of the evening, he had been drifting from place to place with a group of friends. But he had no clue where the rest of them had ended up. He was trapped with that drunk feeling of numb hyperawareness. He no longer felt tethered to the ground. Instead, the music danced between every person and spun the room.

He had never experienced live music properly. The band was on stage, mid song. He didn't recognise the melody, but it still sunk a familiar feeling into his chest. It felt like the first time he had the feeling of being aware that he was acknowledging his surroundings as the song lulled to an end.

He recognised the bar. He had not been there in years; the décor has changed though the passing time. But it felt the same. The way the lights glared down onto the scuffed floor. The bar wrapped along the back corner hadn't changed at all. A familiar sense of dread filled his veins, but he shook the feeling away and covered it with intoxication.

Pulling his eyes up to the stage he darted between the girl sat on the drums. Her hair coiled and cascaded her shoulders. It was dazzlingly white. Or maybe that was the lighting.

Next to her stood another girl, she had her guitar hung over her shoulder. Or at least he assumed it was a guitar, he had never learned to distinguish his instruments.

On the opposite of the stage entirely stood a man, his floppy hair fell over his eyes as he played the guitar too.

But still his gaze floated back to the man stood centre stage. He was tall, and not only from the raised platform he stood on. He had stopped singing now but the crowd still hummed with incoherent clamour.

"Thank you!" the man shone a flashy smile to the people. Quackity felt his attention being drawn in. the singer ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the coils off his forehead and out of his eyes. As he caught his breath, he leaned down to take a swig of water from a bottle on the floor.

Quackity felt drawn to his every movement. There was something so magnetising about the man stood up there in front of him.

He clipped the mic back onto the stand and leaned into it. "I think we have time for one more song. If everybody wants to hear it?" his voice rang with a warm humour laced into every word. The crowd erupted. Quackity even felt himself call out amongst the commotion.

"Alright..." a low chuckle echoed through the mic, "If you're so eager."

The drums kicked in again as if on cue. Quackity felt himself pay more attention this time around. His shoulders dropped with ease as once more the music seemed to ensnare its way around him.

His eyes kept trained to the face of the man in the middle, watching him sing. As he sung his eyes darted between the faces in the crowd. It was hard to see through the shining lights. But for a moment they stopped. They paused, locked into the eyes of Quackity. And Quackity intently held the gaze in return.