A Beat for Cherry Bomb

Ch.1 A Cherry Cola

If you asked Tommy what his hobbies were, he would say nothing. Nothing at all. No special interests, nothing he does every day, just nothing.

If you asked Tommy what he would want his hobbies to be, he would say 'I don't know'. He's never gotten the chance to experience anything spectacular. Of course, he likes games, but he doesn't play them every day. He doesn't know little tricks, little facts, or anything. He's just Tommy. There's nothing special about him.

He wants to have a hobby. He wants to do something that gives you that rush. He wants to do something thrilling. That's what he wants. It's very broad, but he needs something. Anything. He tried to ask his older brother, before he went across the world for college, if he would be able to teach him how to play the guitar.

His brother just scoffed and walked away saying, 'you'll never be able to play'. There was that glint in his eyes that really proved he thought he was saying the truth. He always thought he was right, never truly accepting that he could be wrong at times.

(Years later, he walked into his brother's room, looking for an old guitar he left behind. He took it off its rack and sat down, teaching himself everything he would need to know. He even made little beats for him and him only.)

He asked his other brother if he could teach him how to fight. This brother looked at him with that look that said 'you're too weak'. Tommy didn't even bother hearing his response, just walking away while his brother said nothing. If he had tears forming in his eyes, only him and his brother would know.

(Now, Tommy has a friend of his teaching him how to fight. He has a friend teaching him little moves. He has a friend that he works out with sometimes during the week. He has a friend that was like a brother he never got to have.)

But, none of those are his hobbies. Of course, he enjoys them. He does them a lot and enjoys everything they give him. But, both of the hobbies were his brothers. Not his. He needs to find something that's his. That's truly Tommy's and nobody else's.

He thought it would be the hardest thing he's ever done, the never ending search of something seemingly nonexistent. However, it turns out, it would come to him sooner than he thinks. It would come to him while he has to do a little looking. It would be the thing that is his. Nobody's in his family's. Just his. It's his and only his.

Who would've thought It all started with a cherry cola at a gas station.

—

There was the strong smell of gasoline, infected by the smells of all the different snacks, foods, and drinks of the store he was inside. Gas was a smell he always loved. He could never really get over it. There was something about it that was just different. There was also that smell of a motor, the slightly smoky smell of oil floated through the air. That was a smell he loved even more.

There was that loud thrumming of a motorbike, muted by the walls of the gas station. With his cherry cola in hand, he walked outside, that sound growing in volume while the sounds inside got cut off by the door closing. He looked over to where the sound was coming from to see this group of people, some with helmets on, others with their helmets in hand or on their bike.

He was mesmerized by everything. By the sound, the smell, the looks. He quickly caught himself and snapped his head back towards the sidewalk. He was about to walk away when he heard a distant 'hey kid!' over the ever-going noise. He looked back and saw this tall man wearing what looked like a gas mask with green dyed hair.

He pointed at himself, mouthing 'me?' and looked around confused.

"Yes you!" the man said with a smile on his face, beckoning Tommy over. One of the people with a helmet on with neon green highlights, also wearing a neon green (neon green? The fuck?) hoodie, smacked his arm and moved his body in a way that screamed 'what are you doing, man?!' The green haired man just swatted him away with a look in his eyes just saying 'watch this.'