He would hear the chaos within before he even opened the door. There was shouting, clanging, clattering, and the roaring of engines all happening at once. But, it seemed like organized chaos, like everything was happening for a reason.
He could hear the faint noises of a shouting conversation, something about where a certain tool was.
His heart was racing faster than it ever has before. That feeling before was taken over by nerves and slight regret.
Was he going to regret this? Was this a bad choice? Should he have really taken a job from a random man? Was he too impulsive?
The thoughts ran on and on but got interrupted by a familiar noise. That of the engine of a bike, the simple yet intricate never-ending rumble. He realized it was coming from inside, and his curiosity was starting to take over.
Well, it's now or never. Lets hope I don't get fucking murdered.
He took one deep breath and opened the door. He was immediately greeted by the noise growing in volume with the images before him accompanying them. His eyes wandered around the shop, landing on what he expected.
Chaos.
There was a car lifted off the ground slightly with a person underneath working on it. There was a bike that was started with a boy with brown hair revving the engine, making sure it ran right. There was someone with black and white split dyed hair (again?) polishing what looked like a newly fixed car, preparing it for its return. The walls were dawned with shelves filled with bottles, cans, boxes, buckets, tools, wires, and more that Tommy couldn't even name.
The walls had posters scattered across with images ranging from band posters to the parts of a certain car. The ground was stained with smudges of what he assumed to be oil but it could be something else.
What does he know?
There were a total of three people in the shop, but Tommy was expecting more. However, it seemed it worked out perfectly. The shop was small enough that it really only needed three people, or four now. Maybe it had grown in popularity.
He looked back at the boy revving the bike only to see him looking back. His eyes were filled with confusion, then a sudden realization. His face lit up and a smile grew. He quickly stumbled off the bike, almost falling while doing so, and turned it off.
The boy ran up to Tommy, that smile still plastered on his face.
"Hi! You're the new kid right?" his smile never fell, only somehow getting larger. His face must hurt by now.
"That's me, big man. The name's Tommy, he/him," he stuck his hand in his pockets, hoping the boy wouldn't ask for a handshake.
"Well, I'm Tubbo! he/him," he beamed. "Welcome to The Esempi!" He clapped a hand on Tommy's back, startling the blonde. He pointed to the man under the car. "That's Sam, he/him if you didn't know already. I think you've already met him, though." The man in question raised his hand from under the car in a small wave, only for it to be retreated once more.
Tubbo then pointed to the only other person in the shop. "That's Ranboo, he/they pronouns." It was then that Tommy noticed Ranboo was wearing a mask, only showing his eyes. With his name being said, he looked over and gave what looked to be a smile accompanied with a small wave.
Tommy was still entranced by the whole place, it radiating a sense of home (more than his own). A small smile grew on his face, filled with that feeling from when he first met Sam. He still can't figure out what it is, but he likes it. Loves it, even.
"Well! Let's get you started early!" He looked around for a second, eyes landing where Sam lays. "There. That car just came in today, a Porsche 928 if your wondering, and Sam needs some help on it! Go!" he pushed Tommy forwards, almost sending him towards the ground.
"Wha- what?! How? I don't know anything!"
"You'll figure it out!"
Tommy looked back only to see Tubbo back to the bike with a determined look on his face.
What has he gotten himself into?
He looks back to Sam, who is still underneath the car. He takes another deep breath and steps forward. As soon as he took a single step, Sam let out an annoyed grunt, only to escape from where he laid with a face covered in what looked like dirt.
His face was pure displeasure as he glared at nothing. "Well, I cleaned it out!" he huffed. He stood up, took one look at Tommy, wiped off his grease stained clothes, and said: "Your turn."
Tommy's mouth quickly opened in protest, but before he could even get anything out, some type of wrench, a dish, and a cloth were shoved into his hands. "Ok, easy task first. This here old car needs a major fixin', but we should really just change the oil first." Tommy glanced back at the car in fear. Now, of course he knows how to change oil in a car (not from his dad but rather the internet) but this was his first real time doing it.
Sam looked over at Tommy's expression and slightly grimaced. "You- you do know how to do that right?"
"Oh- what? Yea, yea I do." he assures. "This would just be my first time actually doing it, y'know?"
The look on Sam's face was quickly wiped away with a new look of relief. "Oh yea, that can be nerve wracking. My first time changing oil, my hand was covered in the stuff. That's a bitch to wash off."
Tommy's own nerves lessened slightly due to Sam's little story. "Oh yea I bet."
Sam clapped his hand onto Tommy's back, slightly startling the teen. "I'll leave you to it! Uh- yell if you need any help." And he was gone. Walking over to where Ranboo was, making sure everything was ready for the car to be sent back to his owner.
Tommy looked back to the car, tools in hand, and sighed.
"Let's get this over with, I guess."
—
The oil change went a lot better than Tommy was expecting. When he says a lot he means a lot.
No oil covered hands, floor, anything. Managed to empty it all out, screw the cap back on, and fill it back up with some brand new clean oil (did you know that clean oil was clear?! And not black?!).
He stepped back to admire his work, not that he could see it. He swiped his hands together, getting the loose dirt and dust off. He wiped a small bead of sweat off his forehead and smiled.
I did good.
...
Probably.
He looks back to his hands, only to see a black smudge. He quickly realized what that meant and groaned. He looks over to the small mirror leaning against the wall to see a large smudge against his forehead, matching that of his hand. He sighed, taking in the rest of his appearance. His jeans were brown with dirt, red shirt also being covered with dirt but surprisingly no grime.
The cloth laying across his shoulder is slightly stained with deep colors, both new and old. The backwards baseball cap, keeping his hair out of his eyes (thank you Sam for that one). His old shoes are now stained even more than before, but he can't find himself to care.
He cant find himself to care about any of this.
Not the extensive sweat across his body. Not the small new hole in his jeans. Not even the man standing behind him. Wait wha-
Tommy whipped around to see Sam face to face. He was smiling. A genuine, large, toothy smile. It only grew larger, accompanied by a laugh once Sam saw the look on Tommy's face. Sam's eye gleamed with something akin to pride, something Tommy hadn't seen in a while something Tommy took notice too, but didn't really acknowledge it much.
"You did great!" He beamed. "That was the quickest someone has picked up on this type of stuff in a while. You're gonna fit in just fine here"
Now it was Tommy's eyes turn to gleam with something, however this one isn't pride. It's still that feeling from before. It's taking over Tommys entire body, and he's welcoming it.
He looks over Sam's shoulder to see Tubbo and Ranboo smiling at him too, both showing their own small signs of pride. Tommy smiled the biggest he has in a while. He looked back at Sam with a look on his face that just screamed 'thank you', though he didn't utter a single word.
Sam's face contorted to something more soft before saying, "It's break time boys! Go grab a snack or something."
Tommy saw Tubbo's face light up even more than it had before, eyes gleaming with something adventurous. "Let's go race the bikes!" He screamed before bolting out the back door. Ranboo fondly rolled his eyes before starting to walk in the same direction.
The taller looked back at Tommy. "You coming? I'm sure Tubs would be more than happy to teach you."
Tommys face lit up for what felt like the hundredth time that day before jogging over to where Ranboo stood. "I would love to Ran- boob."
He stopped in his tracks to look back at Tommy with a look of pure confusion. Tommy just cackled before running over to the door.
He slammed his body, opening up the door with force to expose the vast fields behind the shop. They were decorated with old, rusted cars, a wooden table, old tires, and tall weeds growing all around. However, the most noticeable thing was Tubbo racing around the dirt on an old motorbike, his face filled with determination and pure joy.
Tommy stopped in his tracks just to watch. Watch as Tubbo drifted around corners, raced through straight shots, and skid to a stop not too far away. Tubbo looked at Tommy, a huge smile on his face displaying his emotions to the world.
"You wanna learn, boss man?"
"Fuck yea I wanna learn."
Ranboo clapped his hand on Tommy's back, but Tommy didn't flinch this time. His smile only grew wider. He quickly ran out of the loose grasp of Ranboo towards Tubbo, already voicing his excitement.
Maybe that feeling was something akin to belonging. Something that proved that this was the right choice, no matter how impulsive it was.
—
He opened the door to his house only to be greeted with the typical silence. He looked at the bare walls, barely any pictures other than that of his brothers. He looked to the kitchen, his one plate and cup from this morning sitting lonely in the sink. He looked to the living room where there were no dents in the cushions and no blankets out of place.
He didn't even feel sadness for it anymore. It's been like this since his brothers were off to college when he was 8, which was 10 years ago. He looked to the direction of the stairs and made his way to them.
Dragging his way upward, that feeling of belonging that once took over his body was gone. The blank walls taunted him, as if chanting 'you don't belong here, this isn't your home'. And they were right.
This isn't his home.
But he still hasn't truly found his home yet.
He made his way over to his room, bare door staring right at him. He opened it up to see the blandness of his room, only a few band posters, the old red guitar he took from his brother, books (both reading and note), and stuffed animals.
He closed the door behind him, then made his way over to his desk where a notebook with black and red pen dawned the pages. He set his bag down on the floor next to his desk and bent over to write something on the page.
Over all the words, lines, scribbles, and drawings, he wrote two simple words in blue ink.
Cherry Bomb.
It popped into his head while he was drinking his cherry cola, thinking it would go really well with that beat that was stuck in his head.
He stood back up straight, looking down at the page. Cherry bomb was a really good name.
He chuckled to himself as he got ready for the night, not bothering to eat dinner. He had plenty of snacks at the Shop, all due to Sam's request.
He got off work around 8:30, but had to walk home which took about half an hour. That makes it 9:00. Despite it being so early, he was exhausted. The adrenaline finally wearing off. He flopped down onto his bed, his light blue blankets swallowing him.
He closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep. He didn't even realize he was humming a simple tune, that to the lyrics I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb. A simple tune with simple lyrics put together for a not so simple song with a big future.
If only he truly knew the impact of the simple two words he wrote in blue ink.