Days have passed since the last encounter; it was surreal for Ax, dying over and over and over again to the same monster.
Ax is fighting that same monster again, but this time Ax has no weapons to his name, no magic glass-shattering gun, no sword crafted by the dwarves of the Norse pantheon. Just him, this monster, and a dark, dimly lit road.
Each step Ax takes, he sees his own body fall and hears a loud thump. Each inch closer to the monster, the monster inches back. As Ax pushes on against the onslaught of desperate swings from the monster. It takes a step backwards, sword shaking in hand, Ax being unfazed. Each footstep being followed by a mountain of his own corpses. As Ax is face to face with the Oni, it drops its sword in fear, shaking in its own suit of armor.
Ax walks up to it, raising his hand and grabbing its horned mask. Grasping it and taking it off, expecting a monster or a demon with a deformed face, but he sees... Nothing?
The alarm rings with a deafening volume.
Ax slams the alarm with his hand so hard it slips off and falls to the ground.
"Ugh—my head hurts," Ax complained as he got up.
It was 7 am. He had to wake up early because it was the day of the gig.
He made his way to the bathroom, freshening up. Brushed his hair straight, brushed his teeth, and flossed. Washed his face and got ready to leave by 8 am.
Ax then grabbed his gig bag and stuffed two tubs of face paint into a small bag and headed off to the train station.
He had to take a rickshaw (a three-wheeled cart that is pulled by one person and can hold up to 2/3 passengers) there; it took him an extra thirty minutes to get there. After reaching the station, he went through his phone and opened the group chat.
"I'm on my way, guys." -Ax
"No way, guys, it's actually happening." -Ace
"I will throw him off the stage; watch me." -Hamz
"Please refrain from damaging the guitar; I called dibs on that." -N
"Who the hell changed my nickname to getting Axed?"—Getting (Ax)ed
...
20 minutes have passed.
Ax had slipped off into a sleep, and abruptly awakened by the train stopping, he got off the train with his eyes barely open and
Slam
Someone slammed Ax's back so hard he almost fell over and dropped his bag; as he looked to his side, he saw a man his age, shorter hair than him but some parts of it dyed red, the same height as him and with a slightly athletic build. It was his other friend, Hamza.
"Hamz? How long were you here for?" asked Ax.
"Around 8:30ish," replied Hamz.
"Oh," replied Ax.
"That's it?" said Hamz, sarcastically.
"What?" asked Ax, confused.
Hamz opened his arms, inviting him for a hug.
"Dude, come here," Hamz demanded.
"Oh right," Ax said awkwardly as he approached him.
Hamz gave him a genuine, tight hug and a pat on his back.
"Dude, we missed you. You feeling better?" asked Hamz, showing a bit of genuine concern.
"I... could be doing better, but yeah, I'm doing way better compared to me even a few weeks ago," Ax replied to him, giving him as much of a genuine answer as he can muster.
"Everyone's chilling at my place. Wanna head out?" asked Hamz.
"Yeah, that sounds perfect! You still have that spare amp, right?" asked Ax.
"Dude, where else would it even go? It's just kind of been collecting dust for a bit," replied Hamz.
"Right.", said Ax.
...
Some time has passed, and they are at Hamz's apartment door now.
Hamz rang the doorbell, waiting for them to open the door while Ax was anticipating, he was expecting to get chewed out by Nasri and Ace for not showing up for months. He was nervous; facing all of them at once was genuinely terrifying for him.
As the door unlocked and the hinges started to open, Hamz walked in first. Ax was afraid of stepping foot in there; the last time he was here, he got chewed out by Nasri, and his two other best friends had a look of genuine disappointment smeared across their faces.
...
Two months ago.
Everyone was in Hamz's spare room. Hamz was the most financially well off in the friend group, and because of his love for music, he had the guest bedroom in his apartment converted into an actual jam room months before.
The walls were covered in foam soundproofing, and the sockets had multiplugs stuck onto them, those multiplugs powering the amps and the processors and effect pedals.
They had just finished a morning gig they had rehearsed for; everyone was jamming off to some tracks to end off the day. Everyone was having a blast, everyone except Ax.
Ax, usually someone who kept with the drummer's tempo, someone who amplified the lead's melody and blended with the bass's rhythm, was not keeping up.
During the gig he was doing perfectly, but now... he was missing his beats, messing up notes, and most importantly, he wasn't having fun.
Mid-session, Ax dropped his pick, and it snapped his string.
Everyone abruptly stopped.
"Ax? Axton, you good, dude?" asked Hamz, showing concern.
"You alright? You haven't been feeling it the last few hours," said Ace.
"You okay?" asked Nasri, slightly annoyed.
"Nothing, I'll just get this restrung tomorrow; it's okay," said Ax quietly.
"I can just do it for you if you want; I have spares just in case a certain SOMEONE somehow snaps his low E string again," said Hamz, trying to bring some humor into the grim atmosphere.
"Hey! I am standing right here!" Ace exclaimed.
"No, I just—I just want to head home for today. I know it's early, but I really haven't been feeling it for the past few days," said Ax sheepishly.
"Why? What's wrong?" asked Nasri.
"Nothing important," replied Ax.
"Okay, but Ax, you always say this—this exact excuse—whenever we bring up something that's been bothering you," said Nasri, showing slight frustration.
"It's not a big deal... I just..." replied Ax, trailing off.
"Just...? Just what exactly?" asked Nasri, putting her pick down on her amp.
"I... I've been thinking about it for the past week. I'm just going to leave the band," replied Ax.
"Leave the band? Why?" Nasri interrupted Ax.
"It's... none of your business," replied Ax, trying to hold his ground.
"None of our business? Really?" Nasri said as she put her bass down.
This snapped something in her, her fist clenching.
"We've been a band for a better part of a year! What do you mean, none of my business? Are you serious? Walking away without even giving us a single explanation?" Asked Nasri, her blood boiling and her voice which sounded as if it was echoing even in a soundproof room.
Ax stepped back, backing up a foot's length. He should not have said it like that.
"You shouldn't—" Ace tried to intervene.
"You stay out of this!" Nasri shouted at him, shutting him up.
"We have spent the better part of the year overcoming our stage fright!" Nasri exclaimed.
"This was a dream for me ever since the first time I met you guys over a year ago! For us! We would genuinely play in front of stuffed animals, pretending we were on the stage, pretending to be playing to a crowd!" she continued.
Hamz was staring down at his drumsticks; he wanted to say something, but his voice couldn't escape his throat; he was biting his lips, fidgeting.
"Nasri, I'm sorry it had to be this way. I have my reasons, and I want to be alone for a while," Ax said, showing hesitance in his voice, but he was adamant.
"What about us? What about the late-night gigs we would have to do after having 5-hour energy drinks? What about me?" she kept asking, demanding answers, staring daggers at Ax.
"It's not about you... Nasri... Just drop it," Ax said, still holding his ground, staring at Nasri.
"Sorry? Actually, no, you know what? Fine. If you don't care enough to tell me why, maybe you should just go!" Nasri said to him, her voice in a controlled rage, as if she was trying to hold back tears.
Ace and Hamz both looked at her.
"You have been refusing to make anything about yourself! Refusing to accept help, and now you want to just leave us? Maybe you should! Maybe you should leave before I kick you out myself!", Nasri screamed at him, immediately regretting her words.
Ace and Hamza were still staring at Nasri, their faces petrified with shock and disappointment.
Ax froze in place, as if a deer under a pair of headlights; he wanted to speak, but he couldn't. It's as if his body started to move by itself, wanting to run away, wanting to scream, even though his mind wanted to talk to her, wanted to reason with her and tell her why.
Ax started to stuff his guitar into the bag without hesitation. Not looking up even once, he picked up his bag, his phone, and his jacket and walked towards the door.
Nasri had tears streaming down her face.
But Ax never looked at her to notice, never looked back up at them.
Right before he left, he snuck a peak through the crease between the door and the doorframe. All he could see were the disappointed faces of Ace and Hamz staring at the door, his mind just filled in the rest of it.
...
Right after Ax left, closing the door of the apartment behind him, shutting it. Nasri's knees collapsed.
"I should not have said that. I should not have said that," she kept repeating over and over and over again, her voice cracking with each repetition.
"I should have said something. Why didn't I stop him? Why didn't I—" Ace held her shoulder with his hand, interrupting her.
"You were frustrated, frustrated with him, I agree with you Nasrin, but you shouldn't have lashed out like that.", said Aseef.
"Yeah, look, he was breaking down himself. You're not the only one who was frustrated with him because he—Nasrin, do you even know why he's like this?" asked Hamza.
"No... no, I don't," said Nasrin.
"It's becaus—," Hamza tried to say it.
"Hamza. No!" Aseef interrupted.
"Look, I'll tell her later, not now, you'd be adding flame to the fire, let her collect herself a bit more.", said Aseef.
"Right... sorry, yeah, no, you're right," replied Hamza.
"I should... we should run after him, right?" asked Nasri, sheepishly.
"No, if we go now... he'll just hold it in, he has stage fright.", said Hamza, trying to lighten the mood.
"He's right; Abanish doesn't really open up to anyone. I think it'd be best if we give him a break for now, let him vent his frustration and cry or whatever; he needs it. We'll make it up to him later," said Aseef.
"It's my fault," Nasri said as she held her knees close to her.
"It... is, but... he shouldn't have just said he was gonna leave, especially when he knew that you were getting visibly frustrated... right?" Hamza said as he looked at Aseef for approval, trying to make sense of what just went down.
"I don't... know," Aseef said as he looked down in shame; he should've done something; he should've stood his ground and run to his best friend's side, but he... just stood there, even though he knew every bit of context there was.
"Next time I see him, I owe him an apology and a shitload of food," Nasrin said as she looked down in shame.
"He's our best friend; we all do.". Aseef said with a quiet voice, looking at the both of them.