Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's a rainy day, the brown leaves crunched underneath Andrew’s feet, and the bold, yellow streetlights shimmered upon the wet pavement. He tried not to step in the murky, iridescent puddles, but his sneakers were already soaked from the rain, so there was no point, it was just a habit for him.

He started tapping his thighs to the rhythm of the rain, he felt comfort in doing so.
The rain started getting heavier, each drop pattering like the snare drum at Schaffer. He was in the zone, when all of a sudden, he heard the voice of a young man, his tone was laid back, and he drew out words like it was the end of the world. Of course, Andrew knew who it was, the core drummer of his old band, Ryan Connolly.

As Neiman got closer to Connolly, he noticed an unfamiliar voice talking animatedly to him, most likely from a different band. Sure enough, they were both talking about
something called, “Fortnite”

“..and then, I cranked a stack of ninety’s SO fast, he didn't even know what hit him,” Ryan said, flexing his "skills".

The other guy beside him nodded solemnly, like it was LIFE changing information.

Andrew paused, “this kid talks about fortnite like it's Shakespeare..” he whispered.
“He could even talk about it in his sleep, he probably already does.”

The harsh weather picked up, but Ryan’s voice could still be heard through the rain. Andrew put on a small smile, that guy talked about Fortnite like it was a RELIGION. It was weirdly comforting. Neiman didn't even know what Fortnite was about, he thought it was just some wacky video game. So just to mess with Ryan, he decided to ask the dreaded question.

He walked up to Connolly, dripping, and asked flatly, “hey Ryan, what is Fortnite anyways?”

Ryan froze, and so did the guy he was talking to. They reacted as if Andrew just asked “What is oxygen?”

“You.. don’t know what… FORTNITE IS?” He shouted, staring, unmoving, and not even blinking. Next thing you know, Ryan started shaking uncontrollably, his vision blurred and his eyes started twitching. The young man next to him started to freak too, telling Connolly to calm down and say “Chug Jug” three times to unwind.

Andrew jumped backwards out of utter confusion AND shock, “Hey, Ryan… are you okay? It’s just a video game..”

Quivering, Ryan whispered “Oh buddy… you do NOT understand,” He took several long, deep breaths and added “do you call band practice JUST sounds, Neiman?.. It is ART, and you have NEVER experienced a victory royale.”

“Okay then…” Andrew turned around swiftly and took one small step, but then, he started to wonder to himself…

“Hey, why not just, give it a go? It sounds fun, and it’s just a little break from drumming, besides, I need to be quick, I think it’s going to thunder soon.”

“..hey, uh, Ryan?” Andrew said.

Connolly looked back at Andrew, And responded calmly, like NOTHING even HAPPENED, “what’s good dude?”

“If you can, maybe you could pass me a copy of Fortnite? You see, I’m usually out with my dad when I go shopping, and I don’t want to be seen buying it out in public, I swear, I can give you the money.”

Without hesitation, Ryan practically ripped off his grey, raggedy backpack, unzipped it rapidly, and whipped out a copy of Fortnite. Neiman blinked twice, trying to function what just happened before his eyes.

“You don’t need to give me the money, brah, EVERY soul on earth needs to experience this gem.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, pointed at the video game, and muttered “do you.. ALWAYS carry a copy of Fortnite in your bag?..”

“67 to be exact.”

“it can’t be THAT good… It's just some stupid video game,” Neiman said quietly to himself, glancing at the cover.

Little did he know, it wasn’t just a video game.

it would change his life…

forever.

Chapter Text

Andrew finally made it home, soaking wet. He kicked off his sneakers the second he stepped into the house, leaving them by the front door like two sad, squishy bricks. He then dropped his drumsticks, bag, and all his other equipment on the wooden kitchen counter, grabbed a small towel for his drenched hair and, at long last, flopped onto the couch. Again, drumming on his thighs. 

He groaned quietly, putting his face in his hands. The thoughts of Ryan’s passion over “Fortnite” spun around in his head, and especially his pathetic method of calming himself down.

“Does Connolly genuinely have to say the words ‘chug jug’ three times to put his mind at ease? Does this kid rely on Fortnite THAT much that he has to quote something from a silly game to keep him sane?”

Andrew was contemplating whether or not he should actually give the game a go, but something stopped his trail of thought. There was this… unnatural  ringing sensation he felt in his ears, and it was increasingly getting louder. He knew he could hear strange words, but he just couldn’t make them out no matter how hard he tried. It seemed like complete gibberish, he knew something was up, like it was some kind of sign, perhaps a warning.

He stood up and grabbed the remote, turning on another one of those fuck-ass copy and paste reality TV shows, trying to shake off the strange words from his head. It began to fade, but a hollow unease sat in his chest. So, he decided to lay back down again, convincing himself he was just tired.

 “Andy, son, are you home?” Andrew's father yelled out from the front porch as regular, his tone of voice sounding deep and familiar.

Andrew straightened up slightly, gripping the small, mustard-coloured towel. “Yeah dad, I’m here.”

A cold gust of wind swept in the house as the door opened, making him flinch.

His father stepped into the living room with a warm smile, clothes vaguely damp from the rain. He swiftly dropped his work bag with a small thud right next to the wall, squinted at Andrew and said,

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, rough band practice, hm?”

“…Yeah, something like that.” Andrew shrugged, looking down at his knees. The voices were still lingering in his head, overlapping like radio static.

Jim then took his jacket off, placing it swiftly on the coat rack.

“Are you SURE you’re ok, Andrew? You seem.. off.”

“I’m fine dad,” Andrew chuckled faintly, “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Alright then, I’ll be in the front room if you need me, remember that Lunchly thing is in the fridge if you want some, I got the extra drippy cheese version.”

Neiman nodded at his dad, but, still not directly looking at him, as always.

“Oh! And remember, movie night tomorrow, yeah?” Jim reminded Andrew, with his eyes lit up.

“Yep, I remember just fine, I’ll make sure to get an additional box of raisins for you.”

His dad shot him a quick grin, and pushed the door shut, leaving behind wet footprints. Andrew stared at the ceiling, for approximately half an hour or so. He sank into the couch, his thoughts circling his mind without landing anywhere.

“Just one game,” he thought to himself repeatedly, “just. one. game.”

He shuffled down the hall towards his room. His bag sagged with the weight of the Fortnite copy inside, each step gradually increasing his heart rate. At long last, he made it to his bedroom. There he was, face to face with his Fortnite copy and his PC.

Andrew hesitated slightly, taking a small step backwards. Those words, the complete “gibberish” he was hearing, grew stronger and way more intense than ever before. But, they were clear to him now, as clear as crystal glass. He listened closely, those words weren’t gibberish, they were…

Fortnite terms. The four words,

“GG”

“Big pot”

“Build battle”

“Renegade raider”

Ran repeatedly though his mind.

It felt like Fortnite was calling to him, an itch that wouldn’t go away.

An itch he had to scratch.

His hands trembled as he booted his computer up. 

“Andrew, it’s just some clownish video game RYAN CONNOLLY likes, you’ll be fine,” He mumbled to himself, “you’ve just had a long day, especially after watching Fletcher insult and scream at others, that’s probably why you’re hearing voices, that’s all.”

“Just press play Andrew, just press play.”