Wow, as I begin to type this fanfiction, you'll have to excuse me for stepping back in the past. I published my first story in 2004, which was a Teen Titans story, and I was quite the Teen Titan fanatic. My sixteen-year-old self was a little insecure, a little shy and a little out of his mind like most other sixteen-year-olds; writing was my way of encasing myself in a world that I created, expanded upon, and immersed my feelings in. This past weekend I found myself taking that nostalgic leap into memories, and I re-read several of my stories. Suddenly it all came back, in a flash of realization: I need to be writing again. I'm not sure if I'm going to finish old stories or keep them as is yet, but either way unfinished business is never truly finished. I'm looking forward to meeting a fresh new batch of authors and readers alike, and hopefully a few returning screennames that'll bring a knowing smile to my face. So without further ado, at twenty two, welcome back and I'll start anew.
13 Steps, a Regular Show fanfiction.
Step One: The Lightbulb
"Dude, just kill it."
"No dude, wait. I like the way its wings flutter. It makes a cool sound."
Seriously? 'It makes a cool sound?' It's just a stupid moth.
"Rigby, moths are ugly and creepy and...gray."
"I like them, even if they're gray."
"If you don't kill that thing, I will."
Picking up a tattered old magazine from under my bed, I rolled it into a cylinder and walked over to the part of the wall the moth had landed on. "Mordecai, st-," Rigby began to shout, but stopped as the magazine made contact with the bug, ending that annoying fluttering. I pulled back the cylinder and it dropped lifelessly to the floor. That was that. Glancing back at the coon with a grin, I felt it fade as an icy stare met my own.
"Dude, what's your problem? It was a bug. Just a bug. Now quit bugging and let's play a game or something."
"I told you not to kill it!" he said angrily, his tail whipping back and forth violently as he spoke. "God, you always have to ruin everything!"
Pft, here we go.
"Dude, chill, what's done is done. Quit crying about it and let's-"
"Argh, I hate you!" Rigby yelled and dashed out of the room in a hurry, slamming the door behind him loud enough to make me wince. That was Rigby for you, dramatic and over-reacting. Sighing I sat on my bed with a plop, staring into space. It was just a freaking moth, a MOTH, and that's the reaction.
It's not like I'm surprised though, I've known Rigby almost my whole life and the guy has never changed. I call him my best friend and sometimes I don't even understand why. By all means he's pretty annoying and selfish at times, but at the same time I couldn't picture my life without him. Most of my high school friend left this drillbit town for college or other pursuits, and I don't blame them, but I quickly realized I should have talked to more people while in school. It wasn't like I was a social outcast; I went to a couple parties, a couple dances, whatever, but people always lumped me together with Rigby. He was the first one I saw on the way to the bus stop, he was the guy trying to cheat on my math test, he was always the one on my team during P.E. All of this never bothered me, I mean hell, it was second nature.
But now, I don't know. I'm 23 and getting older, and want to experience more. I'd like to meet new people, see new things, but if Rigby was there would he screw it up for me? I can't even count the number of times he's pissed people off around me and embarrassed me. Whatever, I always forgave him.
Glancing to my nightstand, I smiled at the picture of Rigby and I making a stupid face to the camera at last year's Annual 4th of July Chili Cook-Off.
We ate so much chili we stunk up the bathroom for days. Benson was PISSED.
It was gross but I couldn't help but laugh. For every stupid thing Rigby's done he makes me laugh and keeps my life interesting. He always rolls with the punches...literally. I don't know how many times I've slugged his arm playing punchies, his arm by all means should be one giant bruise.
You know you treat him like crap.
That's not true...I give him a hard time, but he's my bro. He understands. Shut up Conscience.
Yeah, just like he understood when you and Margaret started dating.
I winced at my own snarky comment, because it was true. Rig didn't take it very well when I told him I had finally been able to go steady with her. In fact, he gave me the cold shoulder for a while.
He still does.
Again, true. But hey, that's selfish. I mean, I've done my best to give both of them my time. Rigby can't expect me to blow my girlfriend off every time he wants to play a game or run around town. We work all day together (which, honestly, isn't the traditional 9-to-5), don't I deserve a date night? Every time I try to make an outing with all three of us, Rigby always treats Margaret like crap and makes her feel uncomfortable. She's nothing but nice to him and he just blows her off.
Yeah, he's going to have to learn to deal with this. If he wanted a girlfriend he could try and date too. Shrugging off my internal conversion, I decided to go check on Rigby. He's probably catching his breath after destroying something as usual, predictable. I descended the stairs, and on the last step, I saw Pops round the corner, his round, enormous head bobbing to an old ragtime tune he was humming. "Oh hello Mordecai, isn't it just a beautiful day?" he gushed. That's what we all love about Pops, he makes you look at the world in a more innocent, carefree light.
"Hey, sure is Pops. Have you seen Rigby?"
The lollipop man tapped his chin in thought, then had a look of recognition. "Oh yes, actually I have. He came down about a quarter to tea time, saying he was going to go on a stroll in the park."
I chuckled at Pop's vocabulary, knowing Rigby would never speak like that, let alone go off on a "stroll". I thanked Pops and went outside, my eyes adjusting to bright sunlight filling the landscape tall pines in front of me. I already knew where Rigby would be, our little secret spot opposite the path that all of the locals take. I couldn't help but take a deep breath as I walked briskly through the pines, the clean mild air filling my lungs. I loved the park because it kept me sane, as boring as it was at times.
A few minutes later I spotted the old rotting log of a dead tree, and sure enough, a small brown furball sitting on the top. As I walked closer, I noticed he was hunched over.
"OK, Rigby, cry baby time is over, time to come home."
No answer. I was concerned then, because I expected his normal loud comment of retaliation. It was when I got close enough I heard the small sobs. Rigby...crying? The only other time I've seen Rigby cry was when he dad had died. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't alarmed.
"Dude, are you OK?" I asked with concern, and the sobs continued, like he hadn't even heard me.
"Rigby, answer me."
The raccoon looked up, tears in his eyes but a look of anger plastered on his face. "Shut up Mordecai."
The tone in his voice stung worse than the "Shut up" did. It stung HARD.
"Dude, what's your problem?"
"You. You're the problem," he said with spite, positioning himself so his back was facing me. "You think you can push me around and I'll just take it every time."
"You've never had a problem with me messing with you before, what did I do that was so bad?"
He grumbled as a response, then let out a yell, jumping off the log to face me. "I don't know Mordecai. Maybe it's the fact that you spend time more and more time with that robin now instead of me. And when we DO hang out, it's always something YOU want to do. I'm just a puppet to you."
"Hey, that's not fair," I said angrily, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "You knew and still know how much I love Margaret, and you know you're my best friend, I mean we work together five days a week. I need my own separate life too. Do you expect to put my life on hold for you?"
"No, I just expect you to be a better friend."
That caught me off guard, especially because he was calm now, his voice hushed. I looked at him and he stared back, it was hard to even speak now, let alone stand there without trembling.
"I don't expect you to stop seeing Margaret. Did you ever think I'm afraid to make new friends? Look at me, I'm a short awkward raccoon. No one wants to talk with me or take me seriously."
"Hey, stop," I said trying to reassure him, feeling the anger leave my thoughts. "You're super funny and chicks dig that."
"Yeah, because soooo many women are jumping on the Rigbywagon," he laughed bitterly, waving his hand in dismissal. "You know I ruin any friendships I make."
"Not ALL of them; you've still got me," I smiled, trying to joke with him. He just sighed. "Look, let's just drop it. I'm hungry. Yeah. You wanna go get a Grilled Cheese Deluxe?"
He looked to the ground for a couple moments before nodding, walking towards me. I could have sworn he was about to hug me of all things, but stopped himself.
I didn't press it.
Wow, I forgot how good it feels to bust out a chapter of a fanfic, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to this amazing adventure. Thanks for reading, comments, critique and bribes are always accepted!