Falling for you | FNF | Carol X Whitty

Chapter 5

Whitty walked to the small little house with the brown door. He had his hood up but since there weren't that many people in the residential area, he didn't have the original glasses and mask. Honestly, he wasn't hiding his face because of him being a sentient bomb, he was because he had someone after him, his nemesis Updike. He worked for a company called the "Greater Good." Gets rid of all the species that are deemed a threat. Updike's been after Whitty for as long as he could remember. But Whitty wasn't always this secretive. It was just recently when he saw one of Updike's henchmen in the area that he wasn't taking any chances. He's giving it a year before he can go out in public again without disguise. He hated having to run away from Updike and his crew, but at the same time, some part of him could sort of understand why he was considered a threat. If he gets too stressed out, he can level the entire city. But that's no reason for him to die right? After all, he was the only one of his kind.
He approached the house and gave it a little knock. He stepped away and looked around. It was already a few minutes, he was starting to get anxious. Was this a trick? Did Sunday work for Updike? No, they couldn't have. Should he just leave? Yeah, he should just go. He started to walk away while he heard some commotion inside. Sunday wildly opened the door, eyes half-lidded, and out of breath.
"S-Sorry, I, whew..." She had a blanket wrapped around her.
"Did... you just wake up?" Whitty asked, smiling but confused.
"...Maybe. Look it doesn't matter if I just woke up or not, come on in!"
Sunday led Whitty inside, the first thing he saw was the couch with a pillow. "Do you... sleep here?" Sunday nervously chuckled, "Yeah, I have a room but the bed is as stiff as a rock so I usually sleep on the comfy couch." Sunday jumped over the back of the couch and instantly covered themself in the blanket and supposedly went back to sleep. Whitty wasn't having it. "Oh no, you don't!" He bent down, grabbed the bottom of the couch, and lifted it, sending Sunday straight to the ground. "Oh shit!" She screamed as she fell to the floor.
At first, Sunday looked up and sent a harsh glare to Whitty but the second of eye contact led to both of them bursting out laughing. It felt like they had been friends for years and it was amazing. "Did you seriously lead me to your house to jam out just to fall asleep again?!" Whitty asked through laughs.
"No, whew, let's go to the garage."
Sunday led Whitty to the garage and they turned on the lights.
"I'm gonna get you some water because it can get hot as balls in here and also lemme get out my extra mic stand." Sunday went to the kitchen and Whitty looked around. There were two large speakers, a microphone stand, and a guitar leaning on the smaller speaker. Woah... Whitty internally thought to himself. It was a red and white electric guitar. He held it in his hands, it was so tiny compared to his. He ran his hands through it, this was a nice guitar.
"Whatcha doing there snoopy?" Sunday said as they walked back into the garage.
Whitty quickly put down the guitar and faced them, "Nothing."
Sunday smirked smugly, "Sure. Anyway, let me get out the extra stand, and let's do this!" Sunday went behind the speakers near the garage door and got out an extra stand and microphone and plugged it in the speakers.
As she got out the microphone, Whitty grew nostalgic for the days of him being a rockstar, but that was 4 years ago, and it almost cost him his life. The day that forever changed his life. He was on stage, the crowd cheering his name, him having the time of life. He was singing his new album he blandly just named "Whitty." Again, no words, just vowels, but that was the popular song genre in his world. All was going good but that had to end somehow. All he could remember was a loud pop, screaming, yelling. Someone had shot at him and tried to assassinate him publicly. The shooter missed but quickly ran away, leaving everyone terrified, confused, and running around. That was the day he went underground, he left his life and career. He ran from the stage to the alley out back and tried his best to calm down and not explode. After the incident, he moved to a smaller town to start over. And he'd been living there ever since, that's where he met Hex, and now Sunday.
He could still hear the crowd cheering his name, Whitty, Whitty!
"Whitty? WHITTY!" Sunday screamed. Whitty jumped in surprise.
"Sorry, you spaced out on me there buddy."
"Oh, sorry."
"Welp ready to jam?!" Sunday hit a chord on her guitar and flashed a smile at Whitty. Whitty smiled back. Sunday turned on her microphone and looked as though she was emotionally preparing herself for the 'jam' session. Whitty was not sure of what to expect
Out of nowhere, Sunday started screaming total gibberish in the mic. It was an organized gibberish though, sort of. He knew that they wanted him to use his, as they called it, 'vowel voice.' And since they never gave him a reference of what to do, he had a feeling to just repeat back what they sang. Even though there were no lyrics, he could tell by their tone and body movements that this song was about some sort of depressing topic. So he made sure to copy the tone. It was like a silent film. With this type of music, you have to pay attention to your body language and your tone to make sure you're getting the right type of tone. And especially in duets. If one partner has a depressing tone and another a happy tone, the audience would just be confused about the song's meaning. Whitty was lost in the feeling, he felt as though he had been given back his legacy, his story, his song. It felt like no time had past but before he knew it, the song was over.
"That... was... AWESOMEEEE!" Sunday screamed. She took a lap around the room and whooped and hollered. "Another song!"
And so they did it again, and again, and again. Before they knew it an hour of jamming had passed, they had sung 15 songs at least, all written by Sunday
"I think we just... went through my... entire album..." Sunday said through breaths. Whitty took a deep breath, "I agree. Let's take a break." Sunday went to go chug some of the water that she had brought in an hour earlier than they had not yet touched. A few minutes passed, they collected themselves.
Whitty turned to Sunday, "So is that all of the songs you've written, they're really good."
Sunday smiled and said, "Thanks! I have one more though, actually one I've been working on. Do you mind?"
Whitty looked at his clock, 5:00. He had time. "It's alright with me."
Time went by that felt like hours, though it had only been two minutes. They were singing, they were jamming, and some could say, they were vibing. But, that soon was interrupted.

*Carol POV*

"Sunday! I'm home, sorry for not texting, my phone died-"
As Carol locked the door, she could feel the house shaking, the source being the garage. She had a little facepalm. "Oh my god, Sunday.." She walked over to the garage door, as she was about to open it, she listened a little more closely, and it almost sounded like... two voices?? "What the.." She shook off her suspicions and just decided to screw it, so she opened the door.

*Whitty and Sunday POV*
As Whitty and Sunday were singing, Whitty thought he heard a noise but with Sunday's guitar and both of them singing, he could barely hear it. Then it happened. "Sunday!! Keep it do-" Carol screamed as she opened the door. Sunday stopped playing and Whitty instantly turned his back to the garage door and put his hood on, his heart was beating out of his chest and he was silently breathing hard. "Oh sorry, didn't know you had company over. Anyway, my phone died so sorry for not texting you." Wait, that voice! Whitty slightly turned so he could see if it was who he thought it was out of his peripheral vision, but he ended up just turning towards her.
And it was, the girl that was singing with Sunday! Oh, what was her name!? Carol! That was it! She was in a sports outfit, then remembered what Sunday said about her golfing. She was wearing a lavender shirt, a pair of white sneakers, a white skirt, and a head visor. She had beautiful fluffy brown hair styled in an afro and black eyes. All Whitty wanted to do was to get lost in them but he soon shook his head and got these confusing feelings out of his head.
"I-I have to go," Whitty said quietly as he pulled down his hood and speed-walked towards the door. When he got to the door, Carol was still in the door frame and she looked up at him. It was only a slight second, but when he walked past her, they made eye contact. It was like an electrical signal sparked between them. Whitty got a good look at her face and felt his face heat up. Her eyes glimmered as she looked up at him. As he felt his heartbeat hard in his chest, he realized it was different than before. And he was extremely confused. He had never felt this way before. "E-Excuse me..." He finally said. Carol blinked and moved out the way. He had to duck his head to get through the door. And Whitty ran out.
"...Who was that?" Carol asked.