Albedo of Sounds 3 - Vocaloid Fanfiction

How did he get into this mess? It was really strange. Terry wasn't the type to just go out and make friends. Not anymore at least. He had too many worries that more often than not were that of an adult's and most of his friends back at school were too busy with trivial things such as crushes, homework, that one bully that drew obsene words all over their backpacks. That kind of thing. At one point Terry found out he just couldn't relate to them anymore so he kept mostly to himself until he wound up in the periphery of the social activities of his school. It wasn't quite a big deal for him, really. He found himself enjoying the solitude, the calm and quiet it would bring him. Everything more than a few simple waves and hello's seemed to overwhelm him at times. And he'd tire out from prolonged conversations as well. He didn't really know how to talk to people. Small talk involved the weather, the sports' game from last week and how's the family, right? But that was how adults like his dad talked, trying to be polite and all. It wasn't how one made friends. Friends required investment and Terry's schedule, up to two days ago, had been organized to the last second. He had no time for friends. Not when he had so many responsibilities.

What the hell was he doing with his life?

This brings him to his three new accquaintances Sarah, Remi and Moth. They were just too nice. Most of it was genuine too but it didn't take a genius to figure out that they wanted something from him. And that something most likely involved their desire for him to switch his major to music. In a desperate attempt to get back on track with the goal for the day, namely find a job, he excused himself from their shenanigans (or tried to) by stating that he had his day planned out to go job seeking.

Naturally, as is to be in such situation, the trio (under Sarah's spirited guidance of course) had immediately jumped to the challenge and now they'd volunteered themselves to help him find a job. It was nice that Remi had a decent car to drive him around. But he felt uncomfortable and, what was even worse, obliged to humor their antics further. It was awkward and stiffling being around people he could not predict. Especially Sarah. She was a child of impulses, never you mind that her less enthusiastic partners in crime, Remi and Moth, who were supposed to be the adults in comparison, followed her around willingly. For now, he let them drag him about if only out of awkward politeness mixed with morbid curiousity.

"So, where do we go first?" Sarah asked, enthusiastically of course.

"Uh, I was thinking of checking the local newspaper for-"

"Pshhhh, that's the boring way. We can drive about and ask the local shop owners. They usually have notices posted out front. It's a small town with lots of students for nice cheap labor! But, why do you need a job? Don't you have your parents paying your tuition and stuff?"

Trust Sarah to be one hundred percent tactless. Terry hadn't even known her for a full day and he already knew that about her.

"I just want a job." he said simply, which was perfectly true, even if it wasn't the whole truth.

"Wow. You must be one of those rare responsible types." Sarah commented, bewildered.

Terry shrugged.

"A smart looking pretty boy like you should get a job like nothing. Employers like responsible good looking types."

Remi snorted, Moth shook his head and Terry just gave her a look that clearly said he did not like being called a pretty boy. He wasn't pretty anything, thank you very much!

"You don't talk much, do you?" Sarah narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at him, her face expressing the very apogee of her childish antics. "Might as well have a conversation with an 8-ball."

"Sarah, you talk too much to begin with. And you ask him stuff that aren't really your business." Moth finally butted in, not even looking up from his 8 inch tablet. "Besides there is nothing wrong with not being talkative."

"Hmm.." Sarah hummed, still somewhat glaring at Terry. "What a waste of pretty boy that would be, though." She lamented.

Terry sighed. This was going to be a long day.

About the time noon rolled in the four of them had been through four different possible employers. Most of them seemed to know the three second-year Music Majors. And most of the stores involved either music in some way (two were musical instrument shops – one for brand new, the other for second hand) or they were more technically oriented, like the last one where he  could see all kinds of parts for various electrical devices. He guessed this had to do something with the huge project they mentioned from last year.

As noon finally settled in proper, the four of them were back in the diner, on the same table (he was right that this was their reserved table) and were having lunch. Finally, Terry thought, it was time to ask them why they were doing this.

"The last guy was definitely considering you for the job. You look sophisticated enough to pass as a nerd who knows electrical stuff-" Sarah started.

"-which he obviously doesn't." Moth countered.

"But he could learn fast, should he really want this job." Remi added his own two cents as well.

"Perhaps I could look at the local newspaper? I really appreciate your efforts but I feel uncomfortable with indebting myself like this to you. I also suspect you have an ulterior motive for being, ah, so forthcoming and helpful. People are not nice for no reason, after all."

Instead of what he hoped for, Terry got stared at as a reaction. And that made him feel very uncomfortable and self-conscious. He slowly took a sip from his glass of juice and then busied himself with his lunch – good ol' fashioned mac'n'cheese. He was by no definition someone who could be described as shy or as a coward but at the same time he was also the type that hated confrontations. The tension at home had been enough for him over the years. He just yearned for peace and quiet. But at this very moment the silence he usually craved for was getting unbearable coupled with the intense stares he was subjected to. Still, Terry waited patiently for the three to be done staring and tell him about whatever it was that they wanted from him.

"Uwaaah! That's the longest I've ever heard him speak!" Sarah said, bewildered once more.

"I think what he said was more important than the fact he spoke so many words one after the other, Red Airhead."

"Shush you, Moth-person."

"Dude, you're really uptight for someone your age. Well, our age. We're probably one or two years apart in age at most, which is basically nothing. You're like an old man in a student's skin. But seriously, you waited this long to call us out on our stuff? You're still very cool in our books."

"Just get on with it, Remi, he is giving you his complete attention." Moth said.

Indeed, Terry had stopped playing with his food and had squared his shoulders, much like his father did, when something demanded all of his attention. He had also set his jaw and stared right into Remi's bright blue eyes. There was a tension in him that was borne purely of the uncertainty of what would happen next. Here came his contingencies, which he had worked on throughout the morning.

Said contingencies involved carefully listening to what they had to say. Then, he'd make his decision on what to do based on what they said.

Contingency Number One involved calmly and politely regecting whatever they had to offer, then paying for his lunch and leaving the diner as fast as a leisure, relaxed pace would allow him. He did not want to look like he was making a swift getaway as if he had done something wrong after all.

Contingency Number Two involved further inquiring into their proposal, dissuading them from whatever got them convinced that he'd be good for whatever they wanted and then he'd say his goodbyes with them being non the wiser.

Contingency Number Three, which he had deemed as the most unlikely one, was him actually agreeing to whatever they had to offer and then continuing this madness that had started the moment he had set foot in this surprisingly decent retro-looking diner.

"Fine, Timmy. Whatever. About a week or so before the end of our second semester here we lost one of our club members. Here you go, I know what you're thinking, it's not that big of a deal. But the problem is that he made off with our equipment, most of which we all had worked hard to obtain, construct and generally get it working up to spec. So now, this semester, we are starting from ground zero and, if we want to keep our club, we need at least one more person."

"And you wish for that person to be...me?"

"Well, nobody from our year wants to join and it's a pretty specific club." Sarah lamented, and the negative emotion looked oddly out of place on her usually lively face." It's the whole Vocaloid thing, you see, and no one else from our year's worth of Music Majors take us seriously enough. Er, you know about Vocaloid right? I mean, it's ok if you don't but it's kind of this internet thing and we just want to keep our club and make things work again. Is that so bad?"

"Vocaloid? I...yeah, I've heard of it." Terry finally said.

And he had heard of it, really. Terry was not in the habbit of lying. He sincerely believed that honesty built character and it was something that he had been working hard to instil into his little brother, despite their dad's lack of sincerity on many subjects, most notably "I'll be home tonight" or "Of course I'll come to the game!".

But yeah, Vocaloid was a thing. Or, more precisely, it was a Thing with capital T that he used to like before  real life Things went out of hand and he ended up raising Billy because dad was obviously failing while mum was who knows where. Even right now Terry wondered what sort of deity blessed him with the luck to stumble upon his mother's new phone number. But back to the Thing at hand – Vocaloid. To him Vocaloid represented the future in a way. It fascinated him that people could created artificial voices and thus give liberty to so many song writers and producers to just create content that they'd be otherwise unable to. And all of that at only the cost of buying the vocaloid program. The vocaloids, or more precisely the personifications of the artificial voices, were free to use by the authors. Thus, a few years ago, Terry had his first encounter with Hatsune Miku. Of course, there were other Vocaloids. But Hatsune Miku was something special. Terry didn't know Japanese. He wasn't really an anime fan either, but somehow he found himself swept by the storm called Hatsune Miku. At first, he didn't even know about this Vocaloid. He knew of Hatsune Miku. He had seen a picture of her on the internet and had grabbed his attention. A cute schoolgirl with a headset, a cool looking schoolgirl outfit, silvery, black and blue-green that ranged from minty to turquoise. Cute but cyberpunk at the same time, not over-done. She looked confident and happy and very at ease with herself. She also happened to be, at the time, Japan's growing sweetheart pop-star virtual sensation and somehow, without really knowing anything about this, like many others, Terry had hopped on the hyped up band-wagon.

That felt like it happened a lifetime ago. Where did all that time go to?

"So....will you join our club or not? The uni requires at least four members in order to sanction us use of faculty space. Yada-yada etcetera blah-blah. Pretty please with a cherry on top!"

Terry sighed, already feeling a budding tension headache gripping his temples in the early predecessors of a vice grip.

"I honestly don't know what you expect of me. I mean, you don't even know me. For all intents and purposes I might be some useless lout that'll make your matters worse. Isn't it better to run a proper recruitment program? Surely the university would give you a grace period to find more people for your club. After all, it's only reasonable as well as logical to have such measures installed into the university's rulebook."

"Yeah, there is, but we kinda used that grace period at the end of last semester. We literally have twenty-four hours to register our club for the new year counting down from the first day of class. Rules here are kinda, well, very unflexible. The only loophole we could find was to recruit from the new crop before classes have started. And from personal experience we know that most newbies come about two-three weeks before classes to settle in. It was Sarah's idea, really. She could be smart on occasion. But it's short bursts of brilliance, not a propper continuous stream like the rest of us human beings."

Moth snorted at Remi's light-hearted jab while Sarah promptly slapped the back of his head.

"I object that!"

Remi chuckled before turning back to Terry, looking slightly more somber.

"I really like our club. I get to do stuff like playing my favourite pop songs on a piano and as you've probably guessed it, Sarah's our guitar gal. Moth here does everything else. Jack, the guy who took everything when he left, helped with animation. We had several songs posted on the net but the bastard took the whole thing down. It ruined a whole year's worth of hard work. He just... stole everything!"

"If I find that bastard, I'll break his face in!" Sarah growled out and Moth patted her back, trying to calm her down, still not looking up from his tablet.

"There, there."he at least attempted to sound emphatic. It sounded more like he was tired of the angry streak in her antics and was just humoring her at this point because letting her stew and simmer to something more would probably undesirable. That kind of energy should be kept positive, bubbly and happy and annoying because she was probably the type to get into physical aggression when said energy went down under into the depths of fury and frustration.

"So yeah, that's pretty much our story." Remi finished, with a sheepish smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

Terry could understand their plea, empathise with it too. Still, what they wanted from him required quite the commitment. He could, of course, become a fictive member, so to speak. Sign up just to fill the roster and let them be. But Terry wasn't the type to shirk duty. In fact, enough duty shirking has been done around him that he had a certain, almost antagonistic distaste for the practice and just thinking about it made him...angry. It was a futile anger that he disliked even more. It tired him out, left him feeling hollow and listless for days, an ill of the mind that carried over to his body and left him almost in a state of unawareness of the happenings about him and even Billy would notice it at times, which he had found to be completely unacceptable. Billy deserved better. He deserved better. But sometimes certain things had to come before the others. Sometimes, for the sake of those who deserved the most happiness, one had to sacrifice their own.

Terry looked at this ragtag team of strangers and, despite their great differences, both between themselves and himself, he could see that same dedication he himself had. The club was their Billy. Their duty, their most important Thing.  He could just see it now. Sarah was one of those confrontational rebels without a cause, Remi was one of those kids their over-achieving rich parents had deemed a failure and had set them out to some university far from home just so he, the failure, wouldn't bee in their faces and those of the neighbours. And Moth... he was probably that stereotypical antisocial guy who lived in the Net more than in real life. Whatever the case, Terry, at that very moment, could see a bit of himself in them. He could see himself in Sarah's tenacious desire for freedom, in Remi's cheerful and cheeky, but somewhat meek and humbled personality. In Moth's purposeful escape from reality.

The club really was like his Billy, wasn't it? What was he getting himself into, this time? He needed to find a job, not fiddle around with some club that wouldn't really add anything important to his resume save a few laughs and... there he went again, making everyThing go through the dad approval gauntlet. What did Terry want? Why was he here? Was this really a mistake? Then why did it feel like the right thing to do? The only actual option that, Terry felt, was left for him?

He should call Billy. See if everything is allright. He looked at his watch. Oh yeah, dad should be at work right about now. He always used his lunch break to squeeze in a bit more work or deepen his connections with his coworkers or business partners. Terry should be at that pre-school daycare place dad had signed him up a while back when he finally figured out that Terry skipped school so he could take care of his baby brother. Those were... trying times.

"I... I need to think about this. Can you excuse me for a moment or two?" Terry finally said to his audience of three.

"Yeah, sure, man. We'll be here."

Terry nodded and stood up, taking out his smartphone. As he walked right outside the diner and sat down on the wooden bench, he turned it on. About thirty or so more missed calls. All of them from his father.  Terry's phonebook didn't really have a large list of people in it. He had the numbers of several of his teachers, left from the time he had to catch up with his peers on school work. He had a few numbers of people who he used to hang out with before the divorse. There was Janey's number, his one-time crush. He wondered if she had gotten into that university she had wanted, overseas. She'd been studying French like mad. He hoped her dreams were everything she wanted them to be. She also had a nice, stable family and at times he had felt like he was more in love with her life rather than herself. He certainly had felt jelaousy and bitterness. But he could not blame his own mishaps on her. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't his fault. She had also dated this guy that had been a year above them. He wondered if they were still together.

Finally, oh so finally, Terry found Billy's phone number. His heart raced. Would Billy hate him for leaving? He had tried to explain as best as he could that he wanted to make a life for himself, something stable, something that was solely his. And that once he had those things perhaps... perhaps he'd get Billy to live with him, away from dad's toxic apathy.

Terry was no coward. But that did not mean he felt no fear. He was pretty much scared most of the time and sometimes that fear kept him up at night for no apparent reason, bearing down on him in the form of anxiety, thoughts of the future, laments about the past and the would-have-beens that never were and now probably never could be. His actions were almost completely mechanical, autonomous from his crippling state of fear. What if Billy hated him for real? What if he doesn't answer his phone? What if dad took his phone? What if he never sees Billy again? What if dad abuses Billy? God forbid that wretched thought that had snaked up his spine, straight into his brain and then plunged down to his heart, squeezing tightly and ruthlessly, whispering sweet nothings of despair and ruin and...

"Terry! You called!"

Relief flooded him with such a force that he nearly choked and his eyes shone with tears that vehemently refused to shed themselves. For a moment, he did not answer. Instead, he reigned his breath and his heart and thanked whatever deity was watching over him. The moment passed and a small smile played on his lips as he prepared to talk with his most favourite and cherished person on the planet – his little brother.

"Hey, little soldier. Did you miss me?" he started softly, still very mindful of the emotion that was still threatening to choke him.

"Yep! I missed you lots and lots! I had to brush my teeth and wash my face all on my own but I did it just like you taught me and I washed everything and even went to bed like usual. It kinda sucked you weren't there to tell me my bedtime story. But I know that what you're doing is really important! Like, a super secret mission!"

"That's right, cadet! And what did I say about super secret missions?"

"Dad shouldn't know!"

"Exactly! Speaking of dad, how is he? I know he must've gotten really mad!"

"Dad was so mad he went purple! He was kinda scary so I hid in that place you hid those kittens that one time. It was really stuffy, but I got out when he left. After that I waited for him to come back, but he kinda didn't."

What? Billy had spent the night all on his own? Oh god, he knew he shouldn't have left Billy alone. But if he had taken him along, he'd be probably somewhere in a prison or something for kidnapping his own brother. Or something like that. Dad believed in teaching by example, so he'd probably spend a few years in prison and knowing himself and his father, his old man would attempt to offer him a way out in his usual way and then Terry would flat out refuse and.... yeah. Best not go down that route. Billy needed positivity and stability, not another feud on his head to scarhis psyche for life.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm down,  Terry brought up his phone again. It would not do for Billy to see him angry either.

"Did you sleep all on your own in the house, Billy?"

"Nuh-huh. I went to Auntie Pepper's house next door. She was fine with me staying with Bobby and Sam." those were her son Samuel, who was about Billy's age and their giant dog, a german shepherd mix called Bobby.

"She made me breakfast in the morning and took me along with Sam to the Day Care. She was being a bit weird though."

"Have you heard from dad? At all."

"He came to see me a few hours ago, but that was it." he sounded disappointed and Terry bit his lower lip to stop himself from growling. Despite everything he would never, ever cus out the man who helped bring him into the world.

"Did you have fun  with Sam today, Billy?"

"Yeah! We played with Tommy and Ron and we made this huge fortress! I wish you coulda see it!"

"You can always ask Miss Bell to take a picture of it and send it through your phone."

"Ah right! Thanks Big Brother! You're always so smart and you always know what to do! I dunno what I'll do without ya!"

This time Terry choked and he furiously rubbed his eyes before anyone saw him crying. Damn him and his weak, little brother adoring heart!

"Terry, are you okay?"

"Yeah, kiddo. I'm.. I'm fine. Just make sure you're good, ok? For me and for dad. I know he can be a bit hard, but he does it for our own good ok? Like I am doing this secret mission for our own good. He just hasn't seen things my way, so he might be angry for a while. I will try to call you again later, ok? Remember to eat your lunch and thank Auntie Pepper for taking care of you and to kiss her cheek for me, ok?"

"Sure thing! She always gives me treats whenever I kiss her cheek, so I'll do it twice!"

"Hah! Well, I gotta go now, soldier. Mission's a-calling!"

"Bye Terry!"

"Bye, Billy! Love you."

He clicked the call to a close and then leaned back, letting go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Billy was ok. Everything was going to be ok. He closed his eyes and relaxed for a few moments, for once enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face without thinking about his worries and troubles.

Finally, Terry stood up and put his smartphone back into his pocket. He knew what his decision would be. He entered the diner and the trio looked at him expectantly.

"I've thought about it. I..." he paused, thinking over it one more time and making his choice final." I've decided to join your club."