There wasn't really
too much of interest here, just people milling about, doing their own thing. The whole thing was whatever, really. Nothing new or out of the ordinary that Tate hadn't seen before...
That is, until he heard the unmistakable sound of a brass instrument. Someone was fuckin' putting their iPod or whatever on speaker... was Tate's first thought, but the acoustics were too crisp, too clear, for that to be the case. And so, Tate turned and why was there a guy just playing the trombone.
For a few seconds, or maybe several, Tate just stared in disbelief. Then, his brain did a little reboot, and he had half a mind to go and tell the guy off. What stopped him was... well, this was a public space, and causing a ruckus here probably wouldn't be the best idea, as much as he would have loved to. It was just something about the guy that Tate didn't like. Rubbed him the wrong way. You had to be on top of these kinds of gut feelings, after all. But... okay, fine. No ruckus causing, at least right now. Tate had a
little impulse control, yeah? Right? No? Well, it stopped him in this instance and that was good enough.
A sharp pang in his stomach reminded Tate that he'd
still not yet eaten. Fine, whatever. Nothing interesting (except for tromboy over there) was happening anyway. He turned right around, heading for the nearest place on campus where he could get food.
The day had come and gone and nothing had changed. Tate had gone through his classes for the day (all two of them), and had spent the rest of the afternoon at the arcade.
Yeah, you know, the arcade. It was a short five minute sprint from the campus, but usually Tate walked. It was one of the only places in the UK, as far as he knew, that still had a working, custom In The Groove 2 cabinet. It allowed Tate to continue to indulge in one of his longest lasting passions: dance rhythm games. Tate considered this place a sanctuary, some place to keep the mindless tedium of the rest of his routine at bay. Here, he still had a lot of room to grow and improve. Here, he would grow and improve. He'd spent the last year here, whenever he was able to find time. Grow and improve.
Not today, though. Today, for some reason, his ITG session was going bad. Everything felt off, just ever so slightly. He could pinpoint what the problem was, but everything was slower, sloppier... he wasn't hitting with the same accuracy that he knew he was capable of. He took a frustrated chug from his water bottle as he ended yet another disappointing credit. What the hell was up with his body today?! He sighed, before checking his phone. 5:29PM, an hour and a half before class. He usually tried to squeeze in as much game time as possible, but today... he may just have to call it quits early. He fiddled with the coins in his pocket, before clumsily depositing them into the coin slot. His hand had been shaking, he noticed. But it was just nerves, he could still do this. Just one more credit.
The headache that pounded his skull just a few seconds into the first song already let him know that this was about to be a waste of a pound. It was a pain unlike any he'd felt in his life. Not necessarily stronger, but it was just... worse, somehow. He couldn't keep going like this. He quickly took all his belongings and left the arcade. All the while, a growing sense of dread rose within him, accompanying the headache that was now feeling all-pervasive. One though shot immediately to the forefront like the sudden activation of an alarm: he had to get back to the dorm.
The campus was a short five minute sprint away.
Tate ran as fast as he could, trying not trip over his own two feet. He strained to not get lost, in this winding streets that he should have known like the back of his hand, but everything was wrong. It was just so subtly different, but it was
wrong. The sky was the wrong shade. The trees were the wrong color. The roads were the wrong texture. His mind scrambled for a coherent thought, over the pain, over the nausea, over the heavy, suffocating feeling enveloping him.
What the hell is going on?! What the hell is happening to me?!His brain clawed desperately at anything it could grab onto that could count as an answer. Food poisoning? Or... had someone drugged him?
His water bottle?!
He threw it onto the ground, almost throwing down his bag with it. It didn't make any sense! Yet, it was the only thing that made sense! Who and why the hell would someone drug him? But then what else could it be?
It wasn't until he reached the front gate of the campus that he'd realized he'd not seen a single other person on the sprint back. It was the contrast that did it. The lone girl, slumped against the wall, was the first person he'd seen ever since he left the arcade. That's when he realized.
He wanted to say something to the girl, but he didn't know what. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. The headache, the nausea, the everything, was just so overwhelming.
Whoever drugged him (it had to be, it had to be) was having a laugh weren't they? He still couldn't at all understand why, or who, but it must have been very funny for them. Haha, look at Tate look at him stumble around like a bug high on caffeine, ain't he hilarious? Isn't this the
funniest shit you've ever seen?Yeah,
whatever.
He stumbled to a stop just a few feet away from the girl, which is when his body decided to just give up completely. And he fell forward, just
barely managing the put his arms out so he didn't crack all his teeth on the ground.
And just like that, Tate Hwang was
out.
And he comes in with a MAJESTIC faceplant and what a way to end the routine! The crowd is going wild and I gotta say that that's a 10 outta 10 from me, Bob! But let's see what the judges think, and by the judges I mean the girl whose feet he landed right beside (@Lugubrious).
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