Reviews :

chuckiboo : You're definitely right! It wakes him up a bit, but Turbo surely still needs a good throw around...

faolan1230 : LMAO Wren's like NOT TODAY. Yeah Wren may be smaller, but he's not one to be trifled with.


Song Listened To :

Aladar and Neera by James Newton Howard


*Chapter 175*

A few evenings had past and Sugar Rush was quiet. Amidst the turmoil happening in and outside of the game, Sugar Rush's shred of Archived Chaos diligently hulled away and made a silent vow to recuperate for the week, until their grand finale show in Arcadia Station. With Tatum in much need of rest, as well as Wren, Theo and Berri, they each did a minimal amount of socializing and did whatever they could to restore their mental health. In the quiet chirps of crickets that radiated on Sugar Rush's gorgeous, pristine palace lot, Berri fiddled with a few outfits in her body mirror. In a huff of frustration, she shook her head and gently picked up her phone. Although prepared to message Wren and ask for his advice, for said outfits, over the phone, she halted herself mid-text, slumped her phone into the gape of her baggy sweat's pockets and pressed to her bedroom's teleport pad.

In the gentle, flicker of silver coding that appeared in the form of a small, dim holographic display, she pressed a smaller little button off to the side of Wren's name, a doorbell of sorts. She patiently awaited Wren's teleport pad to unlock so she could join him in his bedroom. After a few moments of patient waiting, the pad dinged a small noise to assure Berri that his pad was unlocked and accessible; with a whisk of her coding, she teleported one floor down and appeared in Wren's bedroom. With a gentle, sleepy splay of her blue eyes about Wren's elegant bedroom, she raised her eyebrows in cute delight and caught with Wren's figure across the way. With all of his windows open, to let in the lovely, early summertime night air, she inhaled a deep breath and took a few steps onto Wren's shaggy, lovely carpet. Wren softly bobbed her a nod, from his cozy, pretty sitting area; although still kissed with masculine touches, Wren's furniture and decor held a very pristine, elegant touch of minimalistic beauty. Very peculiar about style and sophistication, it showed most through the way he kept his abode. Berri always felt as if she was visiting royalty, upon being in Wren's room, and with the sag of lovely familiarity, she crossed Wren's room and ushered him a sweet notion.

"Babe, I need your expertise," Berri's warm, soft voice pressed, she rounded his large, unmade bed of white and gold downs, mixed with minimal, beautiful patterns and simple design work. She furrowed her eyebrows as Wren sat up a little, he was easily lounged in his cozy recliner near his windows, sat tucked with a cup of coffee and a book slopped on the table next to him, as if he was previously reading, though stopped to bury his nose in his phone. Berri slowed her roll and peered to him in reversing nervousness, "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, no, everything's fine," Wren mumbled, he inhaled a deep breath, expanded his bare chest and locked his phone with a gentle slump of it on the table next to his book. He lulled his eyes closed, shook his head in mental exhaustion and peered to Berri in soft curiosity. He glossed his eyes over just what she was wearing; baggy grey sweats alongside an even baggier mint green t-shirt with a cute splash of a Sugar Rush logo, properly stated in Japanese and kissed with pink splotches of cherry blossoms. Braless, hair a wreck, clearly in for the night and then some, Wren huffed a chuckle and finally peered his gaze into Berri's with great cheek, "I'd say... Bedroom chic, you're ready for the blankets. Maybe sneak down to the kitchen at three a.m. for a few slices of cold pizza. I wouldn't wear that in public, Bear, you know better."

"I'm not talking about what I'm wearing currently," Berri choked a laugh and gestured her hands in playful annoyance, Wren beamed a cheeky smile down to his lap and softened.

"What's up?" Wren wondered softly, though it was in his rather defeated tone did Berri further slow her roll and wonder if she should be asking Wren that question.

"... Well, I just had an idea for an outfit for Arcadia but I'm wondering if it's too revealing," Berri sighed, she curiously peered to the heavily-used, slouchy bean bag chair a few feet from the recliner Wren was slouched in, "May I?"

"Yeah, babe, I'm sorry," Wren shook his head and seemed flustered; as soon as Berri plopped into the bean bag chair, she side-eyed Wren in bubbling suspicion.

"What's wrong, Wren, you're very distant," Berri mumbled as she didn't do a thing to straighten her hair or care about her appearance; Wren warily peered to her, almost in impending hurt, the turmoil he had gone through with Turbo, days prior, still had him entirely on edge.

"... I'm just surprised you're not asking Tatum for this kind of advice, now," Wren weakly wondered, his nervous eyes hooked to hers, and though Berri sagged her shoulders and longingly peered to her best friend, he inhaled a shaky breath and sorrowfully carried on as his eyes glossed his twiddling fingers, "She is another girl, after all..."

"Wren, no one knows me like you do," Berri mumbled cutely, "I could easily go ask Tatum for advice, and I'm sure she'd give GOOD advice, but... You're my go-to guy for this stuff. You've never failed me. Why fix something that's not broken?"

Wren smiled down to his fingers in an aimless draw of cute humility, he finally peered his sweet, grateful eyes to Berri and made clear, through his aura alone, just how much he loved and appreciated her.

"Thank you," Wren mumbled in sweet defeat, Berri shook her head and side-eyed Wren.

"You really think Tatum could replace YOU? Sure, she's... She's stylish and was previously in our shoes and knows just what would look good on a stage, but..." Berri beamed Wren a smile and almost felt silly this was even an issue, "You get me. You're honest and quick. I really rely on you, love. You've never failed me."

"Just don't replace me, okay?" Wren worried gently, to which Berri scoffed a hard giggle and grunted to get out of the bean bag she had fallen victim to.

"REPLACE you?" Berri staggered a broader laugh, she finally approached Wren's sulky, grumpy figure, gripped his hand and forced him to get out of his seat. He rolled his eyes and ushered her a small, annoyed laugh, though upon standing, Berri urgently scooped Wren into a huge, jolting hug about his midsection. Wren coughed a happier laugh as the two obnoxiously swayed, though once the two softened into a cute draw of tenderness, their embrace gummed to a needy grip. Berri heaved a sigh on Wren's bare shoulder and aimlessly peered across his room, over said bare shoulder, "Wren, I could never. You're my family. I'm surprised you're even worried."

"I just never had another fashionista to compete with," Wren grumbled as he sagged his strong arms about the backs of Berri's shoulders. He finally lulled the side of his head against hers and eased his eyes to a close as they relaxed in each other's sweet embrace, "Please let me be your stylist forever."

"Wren, I rang your teleport pad's bell FIRST," Berri choked a laugh into Wren's neck, they both finally succumbed to cute smiles and a happier, warmer fervor of delight, "Safe to say, you're HIRED."

"Good, someone's gotta take care of yah," Wren muttered, he gently began to pick at Berri's huge, fluffy waves of blue hair, he raised said collections up to his eye level and cocked an eyebrow in teasing delight, "Y'got a treehouse-sized bird nest, here, friend. User. What did you to to make your hair so angry?"

"I showered and then took a nap while my hair was wet, don't judge me," Berri bashfully murmured, the two remained gripped in their warm, unending hug. Berri furrowed her eyebrows and sagged deeper into Wren's embrace, though she began to frown and allow Wren's now strengthening aura to sap her weakening one, "Wren, do... Do you think I'm being selfish?"

"What, with how you're treating your hair? YEAH," Wren barked a laugh, which successfully got a hard giggle out of Berri's figure, though once Wren finally pulled away from Berri, he eased his masculine hands to her upper arms, furrowed his eyebrows and kept his gaze tight to hers in tender curiosity, "Selfish with what, hun. Surely not the definition of you."

"... With Turbo," Berri mumbled sorrowfully, she shook her head and inhaled a deep, raspy breath, "I... I haven't talked to or seen him in weeks. I feel... Terrible."

"It takes two to tango," Wren bobbed a nod and aimlessly looked off, though he kept his arms warmly to Berri's upper arms, "I think you both just need to SIT DOWN with each other. Get everything off of your chests."

"I did, though, the last day I saw him," Berri worried, though like clockwork, any shred of a mention of this topic had her eyes billowing with exhausted tears. Wren sagged his shoulders with said notion and felt his heart pang in sorrow, "I just... Abandoned him. I'm sure he's... So miserable."

"He is, I... If I'm being honest, I saw him a few days ago," Wren mumbled, though Berri raised her eyebrows in sharp surprise and glued her glassy gaze into Wren's with billowing fervor.

"Y-You did? What was said?" Berri sharply ushered under her breath, though Wren shook his head, finally unhanded Berri and took a few steps closer to the gape of his opened floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Well, HE didn't say much, I... Well..." Wren raised his eyebrows, volleyed Berri a nervously cocky gaze and rested his hand to his bare chest, "Got in his face."

"What?" Berri hissed in shock.

"Sorry, Bear, I... I see both sides, here. SURE, maybe you can lighten up and understand that the guy has had a VERY traumatic past, but..." Wren looked out his window, narrowed his gaze and peered to the jungle trees on Sugar Rush's lot, the way the moonlight hit the soft sway of each leaf, it all remained so peaceful inside such a tumultuous conversation, "He also needs to pull himself up from his boot straps and at least, I don't know... Step out into Game Central Station?"

"I'd be satisfied with that," Berri chimed, she bobbed a nod and urgently peered to Wren, as if he had potentially turned into a messenger between her and Turbo, "Seriously. Just holding hands? In Game Central Station? FINE. We'll go from there."

"Trust me, he got an ear full," Wren muttered, he rubbed his face in agitation and shook his head, "I think... We just need to FINISH this tour, finish our last show at Arcadia, and then once the dust settles, you guys can come to a compromise. Take itty bitty baby steps. Seems like he could afford that."

"Yeah, I'm... Just trying to think beyond Arcadia, User knows he wouldn't dare show up to that," Berri muttered in defeated annoyance as she crossed her arms, "The largest show in Arcade... If he hadn't come to our other much tinier shows..."

"No, he's for sure not going to show up for our show in Arcadia, that crowd is... User even I don't want to think about those numbers," Wren shook his head in assurance, "But, who knows... Once we get back on our feet, after this contract ends, and we start assigning our OWN shows and working up to our OWN tour, maybe that'll be enough time, and in that time, you and Turbo can work together on getting him comfortable with leaving the game."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Berri nodded in soft conclusion, she narrowed her eyes and peered to Wren in apprehensive curiosity, "Should I message him? I don't know... I don't want him to feel forgotten or anything."

"If you'd like, yeah... He was... A wreck, Bear, I'm not going to lie to you," Wren grit his teeth and gave Berri a soft look of caution, "I won't go into the details, but it for sure wasn't pretty. I think if you just make clear that you still love him and are willing to sit down and find a compromise, after tour is over, then..."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Berri bobbed a nod and looked down to her hands, "You think he'd want to see me?"

"I-I wouldn't, Bear, if I'm being honest," Wren worried, the visual memory of Turbo drowning in empty beer bottles, unshaved, eyes a blue, glowing mess, Wren grit his teeth and gave Berri a pleading look, "I don't want you to be further distracted or worried before this final show. We leave tomorrow evening, I'd just... Wait until we return Friday night. Then you two can discuss."

"I guess you're right," Berri sighed in further defeat, and though she wanted to go rushing Turbo's loft with an overflow of apologetic love, she desperately tried to get the idea out of her mind until she could entirely dedicate all of her focus to the situation.

"I'd really like to see this outfit you were wanting to wear on stage," Wren mumbled, a gentle transition into a different, not so tense topic, "Y'think Gunner will go for it?"

"I doubt it, but I ALMOST don't care," Berri urged in annoyance, "It's similar to what I wore when I snuck out. Remember the morning I came back? What I was wearing?"

"Ohh those skinny jeans and that black, strappy body suit?" Wren chimed, though he bugged his eyes, grit his teeth and gave Berri a wild look of caution, "Yeah, that... Body suit revealed a lot of cleavage, you know how modest Gunner wants us to look."

"I just want to wear whatever I want, it's not like I was naked on the little stage I soloed on, I LOVE that outfit," Berri urged as she pressed her fingers to her sternum for emphasis, "I felt awesome wearing it."

"I'm sure the crowd thought so too," Wren agreed with a laugh, "I mean... I guess you can try and squeak past Gunner, but you KNOW he's going to ask you to put on an over-shirt or shawl or something stupid."

"I'm feeling brave," Berri assured under her breath as she side-eyed the opened windows, she aimlessly peered out to the sky in cute, determined contemplation, "Can't hurt to try... It's our final show, the hugest stage in Arcade. I want to wear what I want and use whatever instrument I want."

"Wait, what do you mean instrument?" Wren felt now innocently lost, Berri shook her head and heaved a long sigh.

"I... I coded myself a new guitar I've been wanting to use instead of my plain green one," Berri mumbled sadly, though Wren sweetly smiled to her in bittersweet nostalgia.

"Aww, 'ol green, that one's your favorite," Wren quietly whined, to which Berri inhaled a deep breath and nodded in coming to terms with her ideas.

"I know, I love that guitar, but... I made this one specifically with Turbo in mind, and I really wanted to use it," Berri frowned, she shook her head and bashfully peered into Wren's eyes, "At least if he WATCHES the show on tv, he'd... See that I put effort to making sure he knew he was appreciated."

Wren held still and smiled into Berri's eyes. No matter their differences, Wren was glad she could still manage to see the shining, diligent good in everyone's character. He heaved a hot sigh through his nose, bobbed a nod and lulled his eyes closed.

"I'd say try and get past Gunner... If he gives you trouble, I'll go to bat for you," Wren gave her a sure, certain smile and nodded, "Just keep me informed. Look, I may not have wrecking powers, but I'll do my best to make sure everyone goes on that stage happy."

"I don't want to step on his toes or anything, but... Come on," Berri sighed, "He has to understand that we want a LITTLE bit of artistic freedom. If not in what we do on stage, at LEAST let us be a little bit more lenient with what we wear."

"Yeah, I agree," Wren gently began to rub his neck, "I know those bow-ties were my idea, and I DO love me a good bow-tie, but... Man, does it get hot, up there."

"I know, you always come off the stage a sweaty mess," Berri worried with an apologetic smile; Wren shook his head and lulled his eyes closed in sweetness.

"I'll ditch the bow-tie, you ditch the shirt," Wren choked, they both eased into laughter.

"I'm not going to go on stage topless, Wren, what the heck," Berri blurt.

"Y'might as well, with an outfit like that," Wren teased, though he shook his head at Berri and gave her a loving smile, "You looked great in it. It suited you, and your style. It's our last show, I'd say... Do what y'gotta do."

"Thanks, Wren, I can always count on you," Berri smiled into his eyes, she knew it was a mildly risky thing to attempt, though she knew she had to attempt to take the reins somewhere.

"Damn straight," Wren blurt as the two soaked his room in warm laughter, a gentle hug of calm, sweet solace before their world erupted into the show of the century.