Chapter Text
Spamton was like them, just… a little unlucky. He believed he was born unlucky, his colorless appearance scaring away customers and sometimes even just random darkners on the street. Only after a few weeks of opening his first shop, he had to shut it down because of just how unsuccessful it was. Thankfully, his siblings let him work part time at their shops as “the email guy.” Spamton was born unlucky, so it was to his surprise when something went right in his life.
Mike.
Day in, day out, Spamton would be on the phone talking to him. Sometimes Spamton would even forget to eat, or get so tired that he would fall asleep on the desk. It concerned his brothers, who complained about him “not taking proper care of himself,” but they just didn’t know how great Mike really was. Mike had amazing advice and actually believed that Spamton could be successful!
When Spamton was famous, he could save his brother, Snippet’s shop, which wasn’t doing so well lately, and maybe even buy his own again! After all, Snippets’s birthday was coming up tomorrow. Wait… Had he gotten him a gift yet?
“Whatcha thinking about, Spam?” Clicktin’s, the yellow Addison’s, voice dragged Spamton out of his thoughts from across the living room table.
“Well, Snippets’s birthday is tomorrow and I haven’t got him a gift!” replied Spamton.
Clicktin visibly winced, “Ooh, Banner’s not going to be too happy with you if you don’t have a present for his favorite sibling. He’s already complaining about you being on the phone all the time. I, personally, don’t see anything wrong with it. You’re obviously just trying your best to get your business back on track, making deals and whatever.”
Spamton smiled, one of the reasons that Clicktin was his favorite brother was because of how accepting he was. You haven’t taken a bath in eight days? Give me a hug! You crashed my car? I’ll just get a new one. Fuck it, you murdered someone? Nice!
Okay, well, maybe not that far. Still, Clicktin didn’t care what people thought and Spamton thought that that was pretty cool of him.
While Clicktin was cool, Banner, the orange Addison, was definitely not. While still being a loving brother, he was strict and almost like the father-figure of them all. In his eyes, refusing to fold the laundry was the equivalent of murdering someone. He did his best to make sure that everyone was happy and well-behaved, especially Snippets.
Snippets, the blue Addison, was Banner’s favorite brother, and it wasn’t exactly hard to see why. Snippets was the second-youngest next to Spamton, and the baby of the family. While Spamton was treated like a thorn in his side, Snips was treated like a perfect prince. And… Well, he was perfect.
Even Spamton didn’t have it in him to be jealous of Snippets, who’s unrelenting kindness stopped anyone from getting mad at him. Besides, Banner still loved Spamton, he was just irritated at him sometimes.
Frequency, a shade of bubblegum pink, was the second oldest, and he was a drama queen. He always knew some random gossip or rumour and while it was fun to listen to her, nobody ever believed a word she said. It was difficult to tell whether he was lying or telling the truth with his overly exaggerated stories, but after being brothers for all of your life, you can start to notice things they do when they lie. For instance, when Frequency was exaggerating he had all these weird hand gestures and movements he did.
“Speaking of which, before I get Snips a present, I scheduled a call with my partner first. We’re going to go over some things.”
Clicktin grinned wide, “Okay, but if you don’t get one for him, Banner will kill you~~!” he teased in a singsong voice. Clicktin exited the kitchen and made his way down to the living room, plopping onto the couch.
Spamtom walked up the stairs to his office and shut the door behind him.
Finally, Spamton was alone. He really wanted to get some advice on what to get Snippets, even though he and Mike mostly talked about business strategies and planning Spamton’s reopening. Still, they were friends, right? They could talk about mundane stuff like that.
He picked up the phone and dialed in the numbers. He put his ear to the speaker, quietly waiting for the scratchy voice on the other side to greet him. Mike usually was the one to call him first, always calling at the right times. It was as if he knew exactly when to call. Spamton didn’t really call Mike all that much.
“Ring, ring, ring…”
This was taking longer than usual. Maybe he was busy with other people? Spamton forgot stuff a lot, Mike probably did too! He waited a little longer.
A little longer.
“Ring, ring, ring…”
What was taking so long? Mike always picked up, so this was the slightest bit unusual. Still, this didn’t help his thoughts from spiraling.
Spamton had problems with overthinking, especially about Mike. Sometimes Mike got mad at him for no apparent reason. Spamton really had to be careful what he said around him, but they were still friends. The thing was, without Mike there would be no future or success for Spamton.
He knew that he couldn’t make it alone, with his weird shade of skin and personality. Nobody wanted a colorless Addison. If he didn’t succeed, nobody would want him. But to succeed, he needed Mike. If there was no Mike, there was no Spamton. It was as simple as that. He was completely and solely dependent on Mike. What would he even do without him? What if he got sick of Spamton? If Mike decided to just leave one day, Spamton would have nothing.
There was something special about Mike. Before that one fateful night when Mike called Spamton by chance, Spamton’s sales were getting nowhere. His shop was shut down, nobody took any of his deals, and his brothers probably thought he was the most pathetic thing ever.
But he was pathetic wasn’t he? Would it be better for them to have lied to him and treated him like normal? They were only trying to help, anyway. Was he really that selfish that he got angry at his brothers for being kind—?
“Spamton.”
It was Mike. Oh thank Knight, it was Mike. If he hadn’t picked up, Spamton’s thoughts would’ve only continued on that downward spiral. Frequency always told him that he got worried over nothing. Spamton guessed it was true.
“Mike, hello. Um, so before we start with the—“
“Spamton, please check your calendar,” Mike responded sternly.
Spamton blinked. “Uh, okay.” Mike sighed through the speaker as Spamton rummaged through his papers. He had never hung his calendar up on the office wall, he didn’t feel the need to. He wasn’t as organized as Banner, but wasn’t as unorganized as Clicktin. After what seemed like ages of looking through the files, he pulled out his calendar and flipped to the date.
Oh.
Oh.
“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry,” he looked at his calendar again to make sure it was true. Sure enough, it said a meeting was scheduled for tomorrow, not today. And it was scheduled for the same time that Spamton was supposed to go to Cybergrille’s for Snippets’s birthday.
“I just— I just wanted to know what present I should get my brother. His birthday’s tomorrow. And, do you think we could reschedule? Because of my brother’s birthday?”
Mike groaned, “Spamton, didn’t you plan that meeting in the first place? And to answer your question about the gift, I have no time to talk about such frivolities. I am a very busy man and no, you cannot reschedule. I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind you missing his party. You can celebrate with him some other time, can’t you? Focus on selling, getting customers and making deals! You’ll have to work twice as hard because of your unnatural appearance. If your brothers get mad at you for it, so be it. I might have an idea on how to help you out.”
Spamton frowned in disappointment. “Something to help me out?” He asked unenthusiastically.
“Yes, just a little something to get you the attention you need. I’ll send the link to your computer so you can download it.” Spamton opened his computer and found that a link had been sent to him in his notification bar. It looked sketchy.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Spamton, when have I failed you?” Spamton supposed that Mike was right. Mike never failed him, he wouldn’t now.
He clicked the link.
Immediately it felt as if something was coiling around his throat and squeezing. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe . He clawed at the invisible thing tightening around his throat, trying to get it off. If this kept going on, he might suffocate.
Anything that Mike might’ve said during these moments was overtaken by a static that filled the room. It was so— It was so— SO LOUD!! He couldn’t even hear his own thoughts as the static seemed to somehow seep into his mind as well. What happened to Mike?! His thoughts were mashed together with static, with other voices from far away. What was happening?? He shouldn’t have clicked that link.
“Mike? What happened!?” shouted Spamton over the static.
“There’s no need to yell. I can hear you just fine, Spamton. I hope the link helps you to know better. As I was saying, it’s about time you get serious, Spamton. If you really want to make it big, you better act like it.”
“WAIT—!”
Mike hung up, leaving Spamton with a new, louder voice and without any clue what had just happened.
Something felt different. Something was very, very wrong. Spamton walked out of the office, to their room that he shared with Clicktin across the hall. It was night. Clicktin was snoring obnoxiously on the top bunk of their bunk bed, on the wall stood the mirror.
He walked over to it with caution, somewhat afraid of what he might see. He knew that that link had done something to him, he wasn’t that stupid. He just wasn’t sure what. He squinted his eyes as he stood in front of it, took a deep breath, and opened them. It was him. He… looked the same? But wait… his jaw…
For a split second, he could’ve sworn his jaw was that of a puppet… a ventriloquist dummy. What had happened to him? Something felt wrong, something felt off, but he couldn’t lay a finger on it. Mike had obviously done something. Whether it be good or bad, Spamton couldn’t exactly tell as of now, but he had an uneasy feeling about it.
It was probably just..
Spamton was overthinking again. At least that’s what he hoped it was. But the more he waited, the more that uncertain feeling grew.
He tried to speak, but only a chunk of static came out.
What??
He instantly shut his mouth, remembering the tortuous loudness of the static from before, but then tried again to speak. Once again, only a glitchy static managed to come out.
No…
Did Mike do this to him? No, no, Mike was a good guy. Mike was strict at times, but he would never do this.
“Mike wouldn’t do [This Is Your Chance!]…”
He let out a sob, silent tears rolling down his face. His voice was glitched . Mike had gave him a fucking glitch! Surely, this had to be a dream. This had to be a dream.
How the hell did Mike think that this would help ? Darkners with glitches were treated as scum. As garbage. Nobody respected a Darkner with a glitch.
What was Spamton going to do now? If his brothers found out he had stupidly clicked that link and… his brothers. They were going to be so disappointed. Spamton was worth just a little over a virus at this point.
They were going to be so disappointed.
He was so stupid.
He couldn’t.
He couldn’t talk.
All he could do was walk down that spiral, that downward spiral that never ended.
And that’s what he did.