Cotton Candy

A Lonely Voicemail

Bad was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth looking through his foggy mirror before he heard ringing coming from his living room. He sighed before finishing brushing his teeth, who the hell would call him at this time of the night? There was no way it wasn't past 12 am already.

Nonetheless, Bad made his way out to find his phone half-powered, showing a missed call from Quackity. Quackity? They had never really talked late at night, with the exceptions of streams [usually on Quackity's alt, Quackitytoo].

He clicked on the voicemail left behind.

"Hey Bad. I've been having a pretty shitty day. It'd be nice if you call me when you get this, or, don't, I guess. It doesn't matter anymore." A sigh could be heard before the voice-mail cut off.

Bad replayed the message once again, pacing around his 4th-floor apartment, trying to figure out the tone that Quackity had used. He couldn't exactly put a finger on it.

Exhaustion?

Sadness?

Border-line desperation even? - It almost sounded like he just gave up at the end. It was so unlike Quackity- giving up was not something he'd ever say Quackity could even do.

Bad saw snow falling out the windows [even though it was nearing the end of March], but the snow falling reminded him of the fire Quackity had always held in his eyes, the fire that makes it seem like it could never go away. Determination was a big trait of Quackity, one that Bad could say he deeply admired.

He replayed the voice message again, hearing the sigh at the end almost broke Bad's heart. He quickly went on the phone app to check how long ago he had missed the call, hoping, praying even, that it wasn't too long ago.

2:12 AM, his phone showed, so he checked the clock above his couch, which showed a blaring red 2:15. He'd just barely missed his call.

He dialed Quackity's number and waited for the ringing to give way to silence again.

"Quackity?"

A sigh, eerily similar to the last he'd heard, came out, "Yeah, hey Bad."

Dejected, Bad figured out. That was the tone.

"Q? What happened...?" Bad quickly replied, worried for his friend.

"Nothing. It's just... Too damn late, Bad. My mind keeps on saying that nobody likes me."

Bad doesn't take the time to language him, so Quackity just continues,

"I know... I know that people say it's not true. But my brain just keeps sending me so many... Scenarios. Where they would. Where they do .

I usually just go on drives to calm myself down."

Quackity paused again, letting Bad reply, "... Why didn't you go on a drive tonight Quackity?"

He darkly chuckled in response, "I did. Technically I'm still on it."

Bad's face contorted in confusion, there were no noises of wind going through the phone, "Why did you stop?"

"My tire popped."

"Oh."

"Yeah. By the way, I'm so sorry to bother you at such a late time of night Bad. Thanks for calling back. You didn't need to."

Bad smiled, a bittersweet feeling worked his way into his chest, "Of course Quackity. You know you can call me whenever. I have your calls go through on Do Not Disturb on my phone, you know."