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song-linked-from-nine-verses · 5 months ago

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The Mass Dreg Playlist

"Boonie, can we get a set of drums?" Pip asked, and per usual, I was supposed to say no.

I was going to say no.

I was a horrible big brother. Still am, but that's a different can of worms for another day.

Because otherwise our budget wouldn't allow it, he cracked open his own piggy bank, and bought himself all the things necessary. Pip got his set of drums, fit for a twelve year old, and put his own woobly cymbals on top (alongside some made by his grandpa.)

Then the kid brought friends. Turns out just buying drums wasn't bad enough, because nothing hurts more to hear three children barely able to play their instruments, all the while mixing together the most obnoxious things.

"Let him make memories," Grandpa assured me, but the only thing that would reassure me would be that the kid and his friends stop annoying me during my nap time. Not to mention neighbours' complaints.

Should have bought him electric drums.

But in the end, he reminds me of myself when I was still carefree.

— —

"And over here, we have another monster named Boons, a.k.a Pip's big brother," Ton whispers as if they're recording a wild animal, stepping on top of his friends so that he can properly point his camera to the window, "who's cleaning cups in a coffee shop, and he's also a Big Meanie. We are trying to steal the keys to his room because he never lets us play."

"He also didn't let me buy drums at first!" Pip says, who's on lookout duty, in case any of Boons' co-workers walk out. His green shirt, a hand-me-down too large for him, is covered in soot and dirt since he keeps being distracted with the grass to actually be on lookout duty.

"He also told me that my playing sucks!" Track chimes in. He's wearing a red hat, which is currently being squished by Ton from the top.

"Lan.. guage?" Ton lightly hits on Track's head, and as he does he almost loses his grip from sitting on Track's shoulders. "Hold on. Is 'suck' a bad word?"

"Don't lie Track! Big brother wouldn't say a bad word!"

"A. It's not a bad word but B. he did stare at me last time! It was scary!"

"But that doesn't mean my brother said that you suck!"

"Yes it does!" Track tries to throw his hands up in the air to show that he's right, but somehow that makes Ton lose balance.

".. My camera broke." Ton says. "It's your fault, Track."

"Why would it be my fault?"

"Your stupid hat made me slip!"

"Did not!"

"Hey, hey it's fine, it's fine." Pip tries to calm his friends down.

Despite being a horrible lookout, Pip has made sure the crew understands not to make any noise that would alert his brother. But arguing ensues right in front of the coffee shop. Regardless of his efforts, a wordsmithing battle quickly spirals. Before he successfully tunes his friends down, he hears a clunk of a cup then footsteps towards the door.

Knowing that Ton is trying his hardest to win an argument, and is too focused to care that their cover's about to be blown, Pip flips Track's hat off and starts running.

"PIP!"

"OI!"

Pip quickly runs as fast as he could, and when he finally stops to catch his breath, his brother is standing hands on hips at the coffee shop's door. He almost sees the face of disappointment coated with a smile on his brother's face. His friends are right behind him, confused and panting like crazy, but they follow Pip's gaze and quickly understand the problem.

"Now what? My camera's broken and your brother is probably on high alert." Ton says as he reviews the footage. The kids stuck their heads in to see a short video showing Pip making a crown out of grass, Track fixing the buttons on his navy blue shirt, and Ton's rubbing the dirt off the crustacean art on his cyan shirt after trying to use his Deku Leaf to catch up to Pip in a Roc's Cape. Not much footage of the person or thing that needs filming, but much footage of laughter and antics.

The kids sigh in defeat.

"Ground?"

"Ground." Pip nods. "Ton's house?"

— —

If it weren't for the fact that his drums aren't in his brother's room, Pip would love to practice at Ton's house. His grandma makes the best soup and his little sister is their biggest fan.

"This is the BEST thing I've ever heard!" Aryll says, as she always does after every single song.

"Thanks Aryll, but please. This is nothing. It would be even better with a bassist!" Ton says.

"I know a bassist! My brother-"

"Pip, your brother only counts if he'd actually play for us." Track rolls his eyes. "And I have tried to convince him to play twenty dindamned times!"

"Language!" Ton says. "Aryll, you're not allowed to say dindamn."

"You sound like my brother, why don't you be the bassist?

"I'm already the guitarist!"

"Just play both!"

"Track only uses his mouth, why can't he be the bassist?"

"We've been over this! I can't be the bassist because I can't play my flute and the bass at the same nayruined time!"

Despite all the bickering, no one actually tries to hurt the others' feelings, so Pip finds practice sessions to be quite fun and enjoyable. Aryll feels so as well, as she is smiling happily as the crew banters. However, someone has to make sure everyone is focused.

Pip starts tapping his drumsticks on the ground, and once he gets his friends' attention, "what are we playing next?"

Ton answers by moving his Wind Waker so the winds can play the bassline, and strums his guitar with a set of familiar chords - a fast, energetic beat - and Pip follows suit. Track continues the melody of, in the kids' words, "if a surfer'' by a band called Mass Dregs, not actually sure if a surfer could actually do something that warrants a song about them. The previously bickering children now play in harmony.

The only thing missing now is a real bassist.

— — —

It's late at night, or at the very least, later than when any sixteenager should be outside. Boons quietly tries to climb in through the window. He never told Grandpa Smith that he took up multiple jobs, and he's running out of excuses as to why he's always coming home late. He took one of Pip's caps earlier, and is currently using it to cover his multi-colored hair. It was dyed a while back, and for some reason it seems to be pretty noticeable even in the dark. To be extra safe, he changed into his mostly-green shirt before coming home, so no one can see him in his uniform.

He still fails to be detected, however. Pip, his little brother, sits cross-legged right beside the window.

Boons sends his worried-looking little brother a dry look, and mouths "shoo", but he was grateful that Pip was waiting for him. A cushion was placed where Boons will eventually make a "plunk" when he unceremoniously dives butt-first from the window.

An exhale that almost turned into a chuckle left Pip's mouth, but he covers it and turns over to Grandpa's room. Both brothers let out a relieved exhale when they still hear snoring.

Boons puts a little pat on his little brother's head. It's really hard to be mad at a little brother going to bed late when said brother is helping you commit crimes. Pip returns with a bright smile, however, as sleepiness takes over, he falls asleep into his brother's arms.

The house goes mostly quiet, save for the occasional snore, as Boons tip-toes to carry his brother to their room. A tender smile is shown on his face as he softly hums a lullaby.

The song was one that was traditionally taught to brown hair (or brownish), left-handed and/or simply brave kids when they were young. Pip's a blondie, and as for Boons, underneath the rainbow colors, his hair roots are actually bright yellow. However, both brothers are born left-handed. The Song of the Connector (though, it goes by many names) is a simple melody, but as Boons hums, he incoporates his own bassline, quietly adding onto the song without noticing it.

"Sweet dreams Pip." Boons whispers when he tucks his brother into bed.

— — — CHAPTER BREAK

It's a beautiful summer afternoon, perfect day for three friends to take a very specific bus to a very specific place downtown.

"Just so we're clear, we are all going right?" Ton hurdles his friends inside his messy room. Pip nods and Track replies with an enthusiastic 'toot toot'.

"Pip, don't tell your brother we're going, or else he'll kick us out."

"Yes, captain!" Pip says loudly.

"Track, do not ask strangers to play bass for us, and do not blow your flute randomly at people."

Track answers by blowing loudly into his panflutes, which startles everyone in the room.

"Oi! What did I just say?"

"Yes, captain." Track laughs. "Promise."

"Aryll, you coming?"

"Hmm… No- I want to play games today." Aryll says from the upper bunk bed.

"Okay! My Grandma closes the store at 5pm, and we can go then, but I have to ask first. Granny??"

His Grandma yells back an affirming "Hmm?"

"We're going to the coffee shop downtown later!"

Granny audibly nods, then yells using her granny chord, "Why are you going to the coffee shop?"

"Open mic! We're gonna play out!"

"Oh! Have fun! Be back before 8! And keep your phone on okay!"

— —

"Aren't you a little too old to be asking questions?" Boons squints with his bright blue eyes at the man towering over the coffee shop counter.

"Look kiddo, you just seem like a liability."

"Well you seem like you're trying to steal money." Boons says, as he lifts the man's arm further from the cashier. "So how about this, I will do my job, and you tell me whether you want chocolate, or vanilla?"

The man squints back at him.

"Chocolate."

Boons drops the previously aggressive face and gives the man one wide, over the top smile. "That is wonderful sir! Thank you for being our lovely patron!"

Once the man has turned away, Boons immediately drops the smile and points a rude gesture at him right behind the counter.

"My child, if that man turns around, I might have to fire you." says Mama, the manager of the cafe.

"It's not my fault- For some reason, this job brings out the worst in me." Boons says.

"He isn't wrong you know." she says, "you ARE a liability. You're working for who knows how long at a different place before coming here, then work another three hours here, the mayor will make me explain if she finds out, also, what would your father say-"

"Eughhhhhhhhhhh."

"You're not supposed to be rude to me young man," Mama says calmly and gestures at Boons' backpack, "how about you go home early."

"You're not going to slip in extra pay for me. Besides, you need me for the show later. I'm staying."

"You're going." Mama says, a bit more stern this time, and takes his backpack then pulls him out to the backdoor. "Shoo!"

"You're not my mom-" Boons says, but shakes his head from the thought. Walking out reluctantly, he checks what's in his bag. Everything is in there at least, his phone, pills, the charger, water bottle, his clothes... hold on-

Boons looks down and sees that he's still in his orange uniform. And his clothes aren't in his backpack.

"Mama! Can I at least-"

"No kid, go home."

"You don't understand! I-"

"Shoo!"

The door is locked. Boons tries to walk to the front but is met with Mama's angry eyes. A quiet sigh leaves his breath as he mentally groans. He does not want to go home in this set of clothes.

– Pip? Where are you?

– y

– Hi Track. I need clothes.

– were at Tons house

– Can I come?

– need a bassidt

– For the last time, Track. No.

– i can give you shirt if you help us play out for open mic

– What?

– yes no its simple

– In exchange for a shirt??

– hiiiiiiiiiiiiii boonie!! please be our bassist!

– Pip, no! It's a school night! Stay on the phone, I have multiple questions.

– pkease we will give you a shirt

– Track, hand the phone back to Pip.

(previous message deleted)

– hi Boons, in case you don't know I am Ton - we are not going anywhere, nor are we doing anything that might worry you. ok bye

(pipsqueak is currently offline)

It's half past five. Standing under the bus stop roof, Boons looks up all the possible open mic shows in the area.

"Why are these kids so.. courageous?" Boons mumbles. "The Two-M Bar is too far away, probably not that. Hateno F; wouldn't let these kids in. Mama's Cafe has a show in 30 minutes…"

Oh. No. Boons sprints back to his workplace.

— —

"Mama? Mama please let me in!" Boons yells as he knocks on the backdoor to no avail. A quick look into the peephole shows that one of the delivery guys is within earshot. Around his age, also a leftie AND has the same legal name as him, green uniform, and the guy's also currently wearing an old moon theme hoodie. He knows this particular delivery guy.

With his blue eyes Boons shots a death glare towards him. "Din-DAMMIT Snails you can *clearly* hear me from there!*

Snails, while putting food into his delivery bag, pretends to look up to the ceiling and loudly announces, "Huh, I heard someone call my not-name. Must've been the wind."

"Snails!!"

"Oh hi Boons!" Snails turns to the door with the wildest grin.

"Let. Me. In. Please?"

"Uh.. I really can't. Mama says she doesn't want you to go in and tamper with her schedule again. I'd ask what happened but I'd rather not let you bite my head off right now."

Boons groans. "If I say this isn't work related would you let me in?"

Snails is this close to opening the door, but stops right before he touches the handle. "If it's not work related, why not use the front door?"

Three seconds of realization. Boons dashes towards the front door. Through the crowd, he sees Mama's sitting at the front desk, and the moment she sees him, she sends him a murderous look.

Boons runs back.

"Snails, I can't use the front door. What are you doing anyway?"

"Leftover cake. What about you?"

"My brother and his friends are trying to participate in the open mic show."

"And?"

"Well, I have to stop them!"

"Why?"

No one has asked him that before. Boons suddenly can't answer the simple question. He fidgets the purple strands of his hair, trying to find a logical answer to his actions. But the only thing that came out was jumbled up thoughts.

"Do they suck?" Snails asks, a bit more softly this time.

"Well.. it's a school night!" Boons says, twirling the purple strands of his hair.

"Boons, it's currently summer vacation."

No. Really. Why did he react so strongly to them playing out?

He keeps thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking. The purple strands get stuck to his hand as he keeps twirling them.

What is he feeling right now? Happy? Sad? Angry? No none of these are correct. Why can't they play? He played upstage at least a few times, so why can't the kids?

Why….?

Snails, after not hearing Boons for a while, opens the door to check on him.

The sudden sound breaks his spiraling trail of thought, and Boons figures out what he was really feeling. "They remind me of myself when I still play out. I sucked. Th-The audience was mean. I don't want them to.."

Snails looks at Boons with eyes full of empathy.

"I currently don't have the right words to describe my thoughts right now. But... I want them to play, but what if they fail, but it was my fault that *we* failed, but I also want to be there for them and…" Boons groans as tears pour down his face.

"Backpat?" Snails shyly offers a hand.

Boons moves Snail's hand off. "Ew, no."

"Alright. But knowing the crowd that frequents this cafe, they wouldn't mind. Might even call it 'experimental' or something."

Boons wipes tears from his eyes and with that hand he rubs his head, making all the colors blend together. "Knowing that doesn't help. What am I going to do, Snails.. Just looking makes me nervous but not looking feels bad.."

Boons turns and sees Snails shrugging. "Sorry I can't help you, Boons."

"Oh, sorry for crying in front of you." Boons tries his best to completely wipe his tears. "It's just that you happen to be here and-"

"No no- don't feel bad about it." Snails gives him a thumbs up. "I don't mind."

The moon shines bright, illuminating the dark dumpster alley behind the cafe. Music from the front echoes around them, as well as the muffled sounds from someone singing through a microphone. Boons can't hear any of the kid's voices, so it's probably not their turn yet.

Snails taps on Boons to draw his attention. "You know, there's a third option. Other than looking and not looking, why not just… play with them?"

Boons' heart skips a beat and his body feels like it's being squeezed. But… going out there means that he can help the kids, in a way… on the other hand-

"From that expression, I'm guessing stage fright." Snails offers out an arm so that Boons can steady himself. "Well, if you can't choose, can I go out there and see? If anyone makes fun of your brother-"

"You said one time that you have a lot of instruments, right?" Boons asks as he combs back the green hair on his bangs. "Can I have your bass?"

— —

After clearing a few misunderstandings with Mama, Boons hides himself near the cashier which convieniently acts as a "backstage". He doesn't know what to say if he meets the kids directly. But once he catchest sight of them, they are having wide smiles, sitting near the stage, eagerly waiting for their turn.

It feels nostalgic, and part of him hates it, but another part of him misses it.

It took forever for the bass to come. Luckily, Snails gets back with the instrument right when the kids are introducing themselves. But he regrets asking for Snails' bass specifically.

"This is a left-handed bass." Boons says. "I can't-"

"Well, I only have one, and you're supposed to be left-handed anyways." Snails shrugs, wears the strap onto Boons, and before Boons could change which side the fretboard is, Snails pushes him onstage. "The bass is already tuned, do whatever! The world is yours."

"Bass!" Track cheers when the kid sees him.

"Why?" Ton looks at him confused.

Boons awkwardly smiles, but he does not dare to face the crowd. He figures out where to plug the instrument in. "I.. come to help? What are you guys playing?" he mouths.

"Don't worry, you know this song." Pip whispers back. His little brother is barely reaching the drums.

Track yells into the microphone. "WE ARE TUNED DRINKS! WE'LL PLAY A COVER OF A SONG FROM A BAND CALLED MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS."

Pip hits the cymbals- 1! 2! 3! 4! - and Boons has to listen to what Ton plays to figure out what song it is.

Boons takes a second to realize that playing this bass is not that different from playing right-sided. No, it's actually better. Playing feels just like doing magic and you can write your own spells.

For once, plucking the strings doesn't feel like Boons is fighting his own fingers. Before that, playing the instrument wasn't necessarily hard, but it wasn't easy either.

The left-handed bass is basically mirrored so the strings order stays the same, and has extra fret access if pressed with the right hand. He has to improvise a few parts since he isn't used to pressing the fretboard with his right. But as Boons plays, he thinks he's going to flip his own bass, and fret access be damned, he doesn't want to throw hands with his instrument any more.

Boons turns to look at his brother and the kid looks happy. His playing has improved since he was 12 years old and while occassionally he fumbles at the rhythm, his timekeeping is suprisingly well. Track plays the pan flute instead of singing at a few parts, and it gives the song a different flair than how other cover bands do it. Ton carries the melody perfectly, and just by listening to the kids Boons easily bounces off them to play the bassline. He used to be the best "bass guy, can play with any group"- person there was, after all.

Boons still isn't facing the general crowd, but he positioned himself just enough to see Snails behind the cashier. Boons gets distracted for a bit and muscle memory makes him move his left hand to press the notes, and he sees Snails chuckle.

Boons can't turn to the people watching him, but looking at the kids (and the new friend he probably just made), along with the freeing feeling the new bass feels, Boons forgets everything that made him nervous.

And like his hair, he's coloring the hopes he has for the future.