Sedatephobia- The fear of silence.

"Ha, got you again!"

Lucio frowned, gripping the controller tighter. He knew that was a pro, but man!

"I thought you promised to go easy on me?" He said, looking over at her as the respawn timer took up his screen.

"This is easy!" She glanced back only for a second. "As easy as I can go."

"And still win, huh."

"Hey! I'm not trying to give you a bad time or anything." She said.

He laughed. "I know. I'm just bad. I didn't grow up with videogames." He gestured to the console sitting under the TV.

"You know, you might be better at this if you could hear the surround sound." held the controller with one hand and brushed the yellow earphone over his ear.

He flinched, yanking the earphone out of her touch. He brought a hand up to it and readjusted its position.

"Woah, sorry!" She set the controller down entirely and held her hands up. "Did I scare you? Or?"

"No, no." He said, avoiding her gaze. "I just. . . like my tunes where they are."

"Oh. Okay." Her stare lingered for a bit more, before she turned to the game and picked up her controller again.

It was silent except for the noise of the game. That is, before Lucio got his first kill.

"Ha! Got you!"

It was evening now. There weren't many windows in the Watchpoint, but those that Lucio passed glowed orange with late-day sunshine. He checked the time. It was only around eight, but time zones were a funny thing, and he was still feeling the jet lag, even a week after he arrived here. Only seemed annoyed at his earlier bedtime (but she subsisted entirely on Mountain Dew, so he wasn't surprised that the time zone switch didn't faze her.)

Lucio nearly passed the door to his quarters before recognizing the number and entering. It was a bare bones room: a bed, a small counter, and a footlocker for his belongings. He couldn't complain though; he had certainly slept in worse before he had came here. At least it was clean.

He turned the light off and skated to the bed. He wasn't going to bother taking the skates off; it would just make getting up in the morning even harder. They weren't that uncomfortable. He laid down on the bed and got settled. As he relaxed, he began to notice the faint music playing in his ear.

It had always been playing- this was just the first time he had focused on it today. The song playing currently was an earlier electronic piece, probably made around the 2030s. He faintly recognized it, but he had so many other songs on the playlist it was impossible to know each and every one. Even though there were such things as ten-hour remixes, he liked to have some variety in his background music. But still, all of the music sounded familiar. This playlist had been on repeat for. . . he'd guess about a year now. He'd have to make a new one soon.

He hummed along with it a bit before turning it down to sleep.

He remembered the day when they first turned on.

They had been put up in the middle of the night by the Vishkar authorities, who silenced anyone who tried to ask. The next morning, few people noticed. Few cared.

He noticed though. He knew what a speaker looked like. At first, he thought they might play music. Maybe even his music! Maybe these Vishkar people weren't all so bad. He'd have to ask.

But in the middle of the day, he saw the "on" light blink on the speakers, but no music came out. Only words.

"Return to your houses."

Suddenly, he began to move. At first it seemed normal. He was going home, but he couldn't quite remember why, perhaps for lunch, or to tell his mom hello.

He nearly tripped over a football that was in his path, and the realization came over him that he couldn't quite remember what he was doing before now. He began to panic. Images flashed through his mind but he couldn't hold onto them. All he could think about was going home.

So he did. He ran there, eliciting stares from others who were walking. Everyone was walking, all in different directions. None of them said a word.

He sprinted up the rickety stairs to his house on the second floor. Inside was his mom, calmly doing the dishes. He felt calm as well, before he noticed a green blinking "on" light in the corner of the room.

"Isn't it lovely, dear?" His mom called back to him in a singsong voice. "Vishkar gave us a speaker. They must know how much you like music."

He nodded softly along with this. Mother was right: Vishkar was very kind and giving-

No! He hated Vishkar! His mom hated Vishkar! What was wrong with her!?

He struggled to hold onto the panic he felt. Everything felt so relaxing, almost like the room was underwater. . .

He walked over to his corner, where his bedroll was. Suddenly he very much wanted to go to sleep, to curl up on the comfy bed of blankets. He saw his mom yawn and dry off her hands. She had the same idea.

He fought his drooping lids and knelt down, reaching under the blankets. He pulled out his most prized possession: his music player. He turned it on. He was so. . . tired. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He fumbled with the earbuds, getting one partially in his ear before giving in to the urge to lay down.

With the last of his strength, he hit "play". Electronic music played quietly, so quietly, but he clung to it. He began to click the volume up one by one. As the music became louder, the less tired he became. He found the strength to put the earbud in fully. He sat up and looked to the other corner. His mom was fast asleep.

He got up, holding onto the wall for support, for his legs didn't seem to work quite right anymore, and stumbled over to her. He knelt down beside her and lowered his head, so that the other earbud dangled next to her. He shoved it in her ear and waited.

She began to stir, her eyelids fluttering open.

"Mom. Mom!" He shook her. "Wake up!"

But the urge became stronger. He was hit with another wave of tiredness. His mom closed her eyes again. He sobbed.

With one hand, he plugged his free ear. With the other, he took out his own earbud and gently pressed it into her other ear. His limbs felt so heavy. He collapsed by her side.

Everything went dark.

Lucio woke up in cold sweat. He flinched upright. He could hardly breath, and his heart felt like it would jump out of his chest. He pawed for his earphone, finding it and cranking the volume up to max.

He began to relax. He focused on the rhythms, trying to identify the note counts of each measure in his head. Two eighth notes. Four sixteenth notes. Half note. He breathed deeply to it. After a while, he turned down the music, only just a bit. Just enough to start thinking again.

That had been so long ago, before he had even started writing music. He didn't remember how old he was when Vishkar unveiled the sonic technology. Everything about that memory was fuzzy. Except in dreams. His mind would never let him forget.

There was a reason he was here, in Watchpoint: Gibraltar and not concerting in London tonight. There was a reason he wasn't among the crowd, making enough noise to echo the world over and to drown out their sorrows. No. He was here so the people didn't need to distract themselves with music.

He was here so they wouldn't have fear the silence.