Every seat in the stadium filled completely. This was something neither Chomby nor Sarge had ever seen before – Chomby’s show had sold out. The night before when they were doing the soundcheck for the set, they speculated why this concert, above all of their others, was sold out. Chomby suggested it was due to the cameo of the local town hero, Sarge, who was going to sing a few duets with Chomby. Sarge, however, suggested it was because Chomby’s sudden, return after being considered missing or dead for almost an entire year. The experience made more media coverage than either of them had hoped.

Xenon had offered to wear Chomby for the show, as he was curious how turning into Chomby felt when not in a life-or-death situation. After a bit of discussion, Sarge and Chomby agreed to let Xenon wear the jacket when they were in the green room. Due to Xenon’s inexperience, the transformation took two full minutes. Sarge watched in both excitement and confusion. This was the first time he’d get to see Chomby in real life.

Chomby stared around the room, seeming a bit dazed at first, but then he looked at Sarge. Sarge’s tail began to wag violently as a huge smile appeared on his face. Chomby did his best to smile back as he immediately picked Sarge up and embraced him.

“Oh my goodness, Chomby! I… I finally get to hug you in real life!” Sarge said. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

“A long while. So have I.” Chomby returned, now releasing Sarge and looking him over. “Oddly enough, you look exactly how you do in the mindscape. I expected you were taking some liberties on your looks there.”

“Haha,” Sarge flushed hot. “I… already knew what you looked like because I could see through your eyes.”

Sarge’s mind began to race. Being able to see his friend for the first time was too incredible, but the comment on looks in the mindscape worried him. Was it one’s choice on how they looked in there? He’d never thought of trying that before. He just assumed that you looked like how you looked in real life.

Last week, the two worked out the details for the concert, even practiced their performances in the mindscape. But all the while, Sarge noticed something was off. Whenever he looked at Chomby, he could swear parts of Chomby would disappear. The best he could do to explain what he saw was imagining Chomby as a brick and mortar house. Though the bricks made up the house, sometimes a brick could come loose and fall out, leaving a hole. That’s what he noticed.

After one of Chomby’s songs, he had asked, “Chomby, are you okay?”

Chomby had tilted his head to the side and said, “I’m fine.”

Sarge didn’t want to badger him about it. He felt, if Chomby wanted to tell him, he would have.

Chomby snapped a finger in front of Sarge to snap him back to reality. “Hey, Sarge!” When Sarge looked at Chomby, he could see the soundbyte was leaning in close. “You alright? You spaced out there.”

“Yeah, just… overwhelmed.” Sarge smiled and took a deep breath. “I love you, Chomby.”

“I love you, too, Sarge.” Chomby gave Sarge one more hug before clapping his hands together. “Well, guess we better get started! Got a few new songs I’m dropping tonight, incluuuuding our duets!”

Sarge turned around and began rifling through his stuff to pull out his and Chomby’s outfits. He then began to dress himself. “Yeah. I know what the duets are called, obviously. But, you never told me what your other new song was called. Whenever you were working on it or practicing it, I willingly chose to ignore it to give you the privacy you requested.”

“I appreciate that, Sarge,” Chomby said solemnly as he put on his dark-gray, button-up shirt. “It does feel nice to have some stuff I can keep private. Though, I suppose you’ll find out what this song is when I perform tonight.”

“After my solo?” Sarge asked, fastening up his vest.

“Yeah. You still okay to do it?”

“It’s pre-recorded. I know you prefer singing live, but I’m not as pitch-perfect as you are, especially if I’m dancing and singing at the same time.” Sarge smirked. He grabbed his four, ear pieces from the bag and snapped them to his ears. He had two high-frequency clip-ons that he put at the top of his ear and then he had the mid-and-low-frequency, magnetic earpieces that he regularly used to communicate with Chomby. In this instance, they were so he could hear what he was singing.

“Pre-recorded, but you DID sing it. Took several hundred takes but you got it eventually!” Chomby laughed, though his expression still looked angered. He placed a hand on Sarge’s shoulder. “You’re going to do great. You’ve grown so much, both literally and metaphorically, since… y’know.” Chomby looked away for a moment. “Are you going to be okay?”

Sarge felt his eyes water. He clenched his fists to distract himself. “I’ll be fine.” Sarge wanted to hazard the question again. “How are you doing, Chomby?”

Chomby paused for a moment and looked himself over. He then looked back at Sarge. “Doing alright, I think. Xenon’s pretty lithe compared to you. But I’m fine.”

Sarge did his best not to show his doubts. He could tell something was stressing Chomby out… but he stayed silent.

The two finished preparations and headed out to the set. When the lights dimmed, the audience went quiet in anticipation. Chomby turned on his microphone and addressed them all. Everyone cheered. Chomby walked out on stage. The crowd went wild. And thus, the concert began.

After the hour mark, and as Sarge and Chomby had planned, the two sang their first duet. It was a friendly, love song about how the two would sing the same tune and wished to continue to a new day just to see each other again. Sarge had difficulty with keeping up, but the two managed to wow the crowd with their performance. When the song finished, the two were getting ready for Chomby to take a quick leave to reset their zipper timer. As Chomby left the stage, Sarge accidentally tripped over his own foot and landed on his rear. The audience laughed, and, though he felt embarrassed, he decided to own up to it and laughed along with the audience. He then performed the solo piece he prepared. It was a simple song about not needing someone to love romantically but wanting to feel accepted. The audience stayed silent until his piece was done. They cheered for him. Though he tried to control his excitement, hearing their cheers made his tail wag.

Sarge then called for Chomby to come back out on stage, and the two sang their second duet. It was a song about removing toxic people from their life and how, after finally being free, they were doing alright. They were fine….

<Fine.> Sarge kept thinking as the crowd cheered. Chomby told everyone to give Sarge a round of applause. They all did so. Whistling, cheering, clapping. They all seemed so ecstatic. Chomby seemed to be enjoying himself as well. Sarge smiled, waved to the audience, then went back behind the curtains. The next song was the new one Chomby had planned. A song Sarge hadn’t ever heard before.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight appeared on Chomby. Chomby held a hand to his microphone and gave it a tap. The feedback from the mic silenced the audience. “Those duets were fantastic, and that solo was phenomenal! I want to thank Sarge so much for the time and effort he put into helping make this show possible!”

Sarge heard a tone shift in Chomby’s voice. He recognized this. Chomby was on the verge of crying.

“Without Sarge, I wouldn’t be here today to perform for you all. He saved many lives with what he did, but, to me, he saved mine.” Sarge made sure he wasn’t seen by the audience when he peeked from behind the curtain. He could see that Chomby was holding a hand to his chest. “On many aspects, I feel… broken. I feel incomplete in many things. And I wanted to express this through a song. And I wanted you all to know that it’s alright. Whether you’re feeling hurt, or broken, I hope this song can reach you, too.

That must have been the cue to start the song, as an electric guitar rang in, playing a rather downbeat melody. Shortly after, it was followed by drums that picked the piece up and made it become more lively.

Chomby took a few steps back before he started to sing.

I hold my head up and see to the stars,
Its a beautiful constellation of mine.
Yet I fell to the ground in abject horror,
And all I could say was “I feel fine.”

The guitar and drums became faster. Sarge assumed the chorus was coming next.

I broke something, I know I did.
But did it actually break?
I felt like something was horrendously off,
but honestly, what was even at stake?

I’m broken. I know I am.
When I look into my own reflection,
I see a set of glitching eyes,
and have a feeling of retrospection.

The song calmed back down. This must be the second verse.

My hands quivered as I looked toward my friend.
They already knew something was wrong.
Yet I decided to not let them fear,
so I quietly wrote this song.

They trust and rely on me through and through,
but these hands I have are an illusion of mine.
I’m nothing more than a tool to be used,
But I can’t even do that, so I just say, “I’m fine.”

Sarge cupped a hand to his mouth. He realized what Chomby was saying.

I made something flawed, I know I did.
I thought I could be something more.
My tears hurt me but it’s all in my mind,
what was I supposedly made for?

I’m flawed, I know I am.
I’m a broken toy who’s lost his way,
yet I’m searching for a sense of meaning.
I’m hurting, and I am broken – “Error” is all I say.

After this point, different portions of the lyrics repeated themselves. The song finished with Chomby holding his fist high. The stadium was silent for a moment before many people cheered out. As before, the crowd whistled and clapped. There were even some people yelling, “I love you Chomby!”

Sarge was confused. Did any of them even hear the lyrics? Couldn’t they see what Chomby was saying?

The show finished after another hour of songs. Chomby went into the green room. Sarge was waiting inside.

“Ahh, there you are, Sarge. So, how was it?” Chomby asked.

“How was what?” Sarge asked.

“The… new song.” Chomby looked over his shoulder at the door, then back at Sarge. “Were you in here right after our duet?” His ears lowered. He then shook his head and closed his eyes. “You didn’t hear the song, did you? Sorry, I guess I should’ve said you can listen to it now. I forgot you try really hard to give me my privacy.”

“I heard the song, Chomby.” Sarge said, looking away. Chomby could sense something was off.

“Are you okay, Sarge?” He asked, placing a hand on Sarge’s shoulder.

“That depends. Are you?”

Chomby retracted his hand and stared down at the ground. He was silent for a long moment. He had a suspicion that Sarge had listened to this song before, but Sarge never actually mentioned if he did. Now that Chomby had finally released it to the public, Sarge could probably talk about it freely now. “How long have you known?”

“Since Unit_002,” Sarge said.

“About my song… or about-”

“About you not being okay, Chomby.” Sarge folded his arms. “An error? A broken tool? A flawed item?” Sarge put a hand to his eyes. He seemed to be preventing himself from crying. “Is… is that what you see yourself as?”

“It’s crossed my mind a lot.” Chomby sat himself down next to Sarge. “I’m not a living creature. I’m an article of clothing. I’m just a tool.”

“Chomby-”

“You have a body that you can always have. You live, you breathe, you have a life of your own. You exist. You’re a person,” Chomby continued. “I’m a parasite. I can only live by leaching off whoever wears me. I leach off your time and your body just so I can exist.”

“Chomby, I-”

“No matter how hard I try to shake the feeling, it keeps coming back to me. I’m not a person, I’m not anything more than clothes to be worn – an identity to be kept secret.” Chomby clenched his fists. “You don’t deserve me being a parasite to you. I’m not even your friend, I’m just your-”

Chomby felt an immediate blow to his cheek as a loud clap rang out. He opened his eyes in surprise. He could see Sarge was glaring at him. The werewolf’s hand was held in the air with an open palm. Tears were streaming down his face.

Chomby put a hand to his cheek. It stung. “Sarge… did you just… slap me?” This was unusual. Sarge was a pacifist. Chomby had never once seen him raise a hand or foot to hurt someone. The most he would do were defensive maneuvers and restraining actions.

“Did that hurt, Chomby?” Sarge barked out. Chomby could tell he was trying to fake being angry. He’d done this before when the two played a ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine for a man who was suspected for robbery. “Did you FEEL what I just did to you?”

“You… slapped me,” Chomby had never truly imagined the two doing more than hugging each other at any point. But he realized he didn’t answer the question properly, so he continued. “It stung.”

“Yeah! It stung! It hurt you!” Sarge got to his feet. He continued trying to sound angry, but Chomby recognized that Sarge was barely holding it together. “Sounds to me like you can feel pain. You’re AWARE that you feel pain!”

“Sarge, why did you-”

“Can a jacket feel pain? Can a tool feel pain?” Sarge barked out, though he choked on his words.

“But why did you-

“Because you’re my friend?” Sarge hissed. “Do you really think I was going to let you finish that sentence? ‘I’m just your jacket’.” Sarge made air quotes.

“But… we joke about it all the time,” Chomby lowered his posture. Because Sarge was losing his composure, he was about to lose his as well.

Sarge seemed to notice this and immediately dropped back to the couch. “Yeah, we do. We did… but you never told me it’s been hurting you this much. You said it bothered you a bit, but never on this scale.” Sarge lifted a hand to Chomby’s cheek. It still stung. Sarge must have picked up on this and immediately retracted his hand. “Now I’m the one who hurt you… both by slapping you now and by not trying to dig deeper into what’s been bothering you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Chomby said. He looked up at the ceiling, then back at Sarge. “Okay, well, apologizing for the slap was needed. But the point is, you’ve given me the ability to feel like I’m alive. But we both know I’m not.”

“Is this why, in our mindscape, your body was acting the way it was?” Sarge asked. “I noticed it since the robot fight. Parts of you would disappear and reappear a bit later. Almost like a glitchy monitor display.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Chomby looked at his hand. He had also noticed his body was acting like that. But, honestly, he felt fine for most of that time. At least, he thought he did. “Guess I’d just been imagining myself as a broken tool that has no explanation for existing. A tool that is only able to exist for those few short hours at a time.”

The two sat in silence for a long moment before Sarge spoke up. “Then, why don’t I wear you, and you just keep yourself zipped up?”

Chomby perked up in alarm. “But, Sarge! That would basically-”

“Kill me? Yeah, possibly.” Sarge sighed. “But you’d have a body. You’d be able to exist for longer than two to four hours at a time. I’m willing to do that for you.”

“You can’t be serious,” Chomby snarled. “Like heck I’d keep myself zipped up and get rid of you. You’re my-”

“I’m your jacket?” Sarge asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“No, you goofball! You’re my friend! My best friend, even! Why would you even say you’re a jacket? That’s-” Chomby bit his tongue. “Oh, I see what you mean.”

“If it’s joking and you are actually, legitimately, okay with it, then we can keep making the joke about it.” Sarge’s tone became serious again. “But me calling myself a jacket is as weird as you calling yourself a jacket.”

Sarge took a deep breath and continued. “And, sorry, again… for slapping you. I was trying to make a point, but I just feel bad.”

“You never could get yourself to hurt someone. Took me by surprise.” Chomby chuckled.

“And I’m sorry, again… again.” Sarge looked down at the ground. “I don’t know what parts of you are flawed and broken. I want to know, if you ever decide to tell me. But, All I see is a good friend that I can talk to about anything without being judged, and someone who’s reliable whenever things get bad. I really enjoy spending time with you, and want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

“Aaaas your jacket?” Chomby asked, matching Sarge’s sarcastic tone.

Sarge took a moment to process this, then rolled his eyes. “As my friend, and the best one at that. Please, if you do ever feel broken, or flawed, or wrong, talk with me about it. Okay? We can figure out something together.”

“What could we even do?” Chomby asked.

“A good example would be therapy. Every person needs a therapist, even if they feel fine. You just so happen to classify as a part of ‘every person’.”

Chomby put a hand to his face and groaned. “Oh, I suppose I’m ‘real’ enough to need it, huh?”

“All the more proof that you aren’t a tool, and you aren’t just my jacket.” Sarge leaned over and rested his head on Chomby’s shoulder.

“But what about being broken? Being flawed? Being an error? Do you really want a friend like that?” Chomby asked.

“An error is something that has gone wrong,” Sarge closed his eyes. “You are not something that went wrong. You are someONE who went right. You being in my life has been one of the best things to have ever happened to me.”

“While I don’t see any of your flaws or any part of you that’s broken, that wouldn’t change my love for you.” Sarge scooted himself closer. “So, if you’re broken, then so am I. So why don’t we be broken together?”

Chomby felt his eyes water. He didn’t know how Sarge kept managing to do it, but he always seemed to know the right thing to say.

“You okay, Chomby?” Sarge asked. Chomby could see the werewolf’s eyes were open now. “Is your cheek hurting? Do you need me to get you some ice?”

“No, I’m fine-” Chomby caught himself and then he thought. He closed his eyes and felt his tears run down his cheek. He wrapped an arm around Sarge and pressed the werewolf tightly against himself. He thought back to his song and how much it meant for him to write it. It was cathartic to be able to put his words out into the world. But he realized he wanted to change the final phrase of the song. What he was thinking now fit it better. “I’m hurting, and I’m broken… but I will be okay.”

~~~~~

Chomby has his doubts about things, but he does his absolute best to be a good person. The most prominent question that comes to mind though, is... am I an error?

A story and art piece for the new song: https://youtu.be/A-szzgCe-eM

~~~~~

Art/Story/Chomby/Sarge ©  pikminpedia Me