Rotten Berryl and the Heartbreakers

     Picking her way through the grey blades of grass, Aoife was on her way to Blaze's. Founded by the eponymous Lightmite under a large, upturned wicker punnet that was leant against a large jagged rock, the bar had, in recent times, morphed into something of a refuge for berries, petpetpets and pretty much any other creature too small to be affected by the land-wide curse. Not due to any increased risk of danger, mind you. It's just... the whole vibe of the place, you know? After a long day in the fields, you just want to have some fun. And Meridell was very much not fun at the moment.

     With the punnet on the horizon, the Loveberry was taken by surprise.

     "Hey! Hey Aoife!" called out a distant voice.

     Turning to face the river, there was a Nutritional Blockberry on the opposite side.

     "You guys ROCK!" he called out, excitedly waving his leaf.

     "Oh!" she shouted back at her fan, waving her own, "Thank you!!"

     An extra bit of bounce in her bounce, it was interactions like that that made being the guitarist in one of the biggest bands to ever break out of the Pick Your Own fields even sweeter. She just wished her lead singer shared her point of view on that.

     Approaching the makeshift entrance, the warm golden glow emitted by Blaze streamed out through both the opening and through the gaps of the greyed wooden banding of the basket into the falling night beyond. Inside, the bar was its usual bustling self with brown toadstool tables filled with chattering petpetpets and gossiping berries. At the far end, a group of Red Chia Berries were moehogging the miniature billiards table whilst a pair of Grumblebugs serenaded the revellers with an ode. Making her way to the bar, which was fashioned out of the sole of an Old Boot, the proprietor was quick to greet his close friend. "Aoife," the Lightmite grinned, hovering behind the structure, "good to see ya!"

     "Heya Blaze," the Loveberry enthused, "this place is packed, eh?"

     "Yup," he laughed, "though I heard I'm not the only one doing well. What's this about playing the Springabee Queen's kid's birthday? Pretty fancy."

     It was the guitarist's turn to laugh. "I don't know about 'fancy'... "

     "How about an acorn cup of water, on the house?"

     "'Fraid not," Aoife politely declined, her voice gaining a melancholic air, "have you seen Berryl?"

     An air that took Blaze by surprise. "Well, yeah. She's sat in the corner, over there."

     "Thanks."

     Turning to face the far end of the bar, the Loveberry spotted her bandmate tucked behind a couple of Voidberries who had just finished their drinks. As they bounced off towards the billiard table, no doubt hoping they might be able to wrangle a game or two before heading off into the night, the guitarist bounded over to her lead singer with a small sense of relief. Finding the Rotten Berry focused on an untouched acorn cup of Blaze's finest spring water that sat on the bartop in front of her. She could see that her friend was lost in her own thoughts. She wrinkled her red fruit. This was going to require a delicate touch. "Berryl?" she queried softly, trying not to catch her too by surprise.

     "Oh," the singer replied, glumly as always, turning her yellow fruit slightly, "hey Aoife."

     She pulled up a moss stool. "The girls and I missed you at practice today."

     Berryl sighed. "Yeah. Sorry about that." Before turning back to her acorn cup.

     Now the Loveberry was worried. Though her bandmate was often the most melancholic member of their musical collective, she had never seen the Rotten Berry so down about anything before. She was desperate to do something about it, but Aoife knew if she pushed too hard, then her friend would get lost in herself even more. She had to go even slower than she thought she would. Which was hard. So very hard. They were exact opposites in many ways. If Berryl was the most melancholic, then her guitarist was easily the most upbeat. Their love of metal-punk bangers was really the only thing they had in common. "... What's wrong, Bee?"

     "Nothing's wrong," she replied, forlornly.

     "I mean," came the counter, "clearly something's the matter."

     The singer sighed. "It's not important."

     "Of course it is," her guitarist gently reassured her.

     "Nothing's the matter because nothing matters," she grumped, almost stubbornly.

     Her tone forced Aoife to suppress a giggle. She knew she was getting through to her. "This isn't the stage 'Rotten Berryl'," the Loveberry affectionately teased her bandmate, referring to her by her somewhat over-the-top on-stage moniker, "I know you don't really believe that."

     "If we mattered," the Rotten Berry retorted, her mask cracking ever so slightly, "we'd 've been grey cursed alongside the rest of the Kingdom. But we weren't."

     "You make that sound like a bad thing!" the guitarist laughed.

     " Point taken," her singer conceded.

     An awkward silence quickly descended.

     " So...?" Aoife chose to break it.

     "What?"

     "What's wrong?"

     Berryl sighed heavily.

     If her counterpart wasn't going to be forthcoming, the Loveberry realised that she would have to take a different tack. Putting her thinking leaf on, Aoife wrinkled her fruit as she tried to think what could possibly have got her friend so down in the Rubbish Dumps that she was hiding in the shadows of Blaze's. Thinking back to the last couple of band practices they had had back at the old abandoned plough, there was one subject that she had been struggling with. She wasn't convinced that that was the problem, but it was worth a shot. "It's not that song they asked you to write," she carefully enquired, referring to the song the Springabee Queen had requested for her daughter's birthday party, "is it?"

     "Maybe."

     Victory at last. "I'm sure you'll finish it in time for the party!" her bandmate enthused.

     "I'm not," came the especially glum response.

     "Why?"

     "I haven't even started it yet." The Rotten Berry shook her fruit. "It's like I've got a-a-"

     "Mental block?"

     "Yeah!" Berryl briefly broke character before slipping back into her old ways, "Or something."

     Aoife tried her best to contain herself. She was the sort of acorn-cup-half-full-of-water Berry who would do anything for her friends. If they had a problem, she was the one who just had to solve it. Even if they weren't always entirely enthusiastic about her energetic interventions. How someberry so sunny ended up in a band playing anti-establishment anthems, heartbreaking ballads, and general musings on existentialism was, uh, a tale for another time. "Well," she announced as softly as she could, "when I've got a mental block, I take a break, do something completely different and then come back to it." She beamed. "It usually does the trick!"

     "Why else do you think I'm here?" her singer mumbled, her focus still on her acorn cup.

     "...Ambience?"

     "No."

     "Has it helped?"

     She sighed, gently this time. "Nope."

     The Loveberry wrinkled her fruit once more. That hadn't been her only strategy to deal with mental blocks - far from it - but she wasn't sure if any of her other methods would be worth suggesting to her bandmate. She'd known the Rotten Berry long enough to know that a Spa Day at Aquaberry Retreats or a session of retail therapy at Jumbleberry Outlet weren't really her acorn cup of water. After a few moments of thought, she found herself grasping at a straw. "Maybe you just need to sleep on it," she quietly offered.

     Berryl paused before turning back to her friend. "You can sleep?"

     "Well, yeah," Aoife replied, slightly taken aback, "I sleep pretty well, actually." It was the guitarist's turn to pause. Confused by her friend's remark. "You don't?"

     "Not really," the singer replied with another shake of her fruit. She hadn't had a good night's sleep for some time. Either struggling to get to sleep in the first place or staying asleep without waking up multiple times in the middle of the night. Who needed to be grey cursed when insomnia could do the job without a villain's assistance. "Not since..." the Rotten Berry gestured towards the entrance to Blaze's and the monochromatic land beyond with her brown stalk, "...though I hardly think I'm special in that." Now she wrinkled her fruit, though more out of annoyance than anything else. "How are YOU sleepin' so well is the real question here."

     Her guitarist was even more confused. "What do you mean?"

     "You know." She waved her stalk around, vaguely. "With the impending apocalypse."

     "Things aren't that bad, Bee," the Loveberry reassured her friend warmly, point-blankly refusing the urge to giggle. She knew her counterpart was being deathly serious. That's just how Berryl was. Always seeing the worst in everything and everyberry. Aoife didn't blame her. Neopia could be a pretty rotten place at times. But that wasn't true every time. She truly believed that wasn't even true most of the time. Even if right now, the only light at the end of the tunnel had a distinctly grey hue. "I mean," she mused, "the Kingdom has had plenty of darker days than this over the years. Okay, sure, they were metaphorically darker rather than this, but still..."

     "But... don't you... worry..."

     "Worry about what?"

     Her singer's eyes fell to the soil below. "That, I dunno... we're making things worse?"

     "Uhh..." The guitarist was lost, once again. "I'm not sure we could." She turned to the entrance of the upturned wicker punnet just to make sure Meridell was still all grey, cursed on the other side, before turning back to her bandmate. "I mean, you've seen outside, right? The fields? The pastures? As grey as always?"

     The Rotten Berry looked back up. "What I mean is," she did her best to explain, "we're not exactly the most feel-good band around, Aoife." She sighed softly. "The last thing anyberry needs is us bringing the vibe down even more." Before her gaze fell back to the ground.

     "I really think you're lookin' at this all wrong, Berryl," the Loveberry disagreed with her friend.

     "How do you mean?"

     "Sure, our music isn't... the happiest," Aoife reluctantly conceded, to her bandmate's faint amusement, "you're not wrong there." Before shaking her fruit. "But, I dunno, it's cathartic." She briefly paused, gathering her thoughts. "It's good to just let everything out every once in a while. Sometimes folks just need that kinda release. Be it a little cry or something to shout along with. It's good for them. Especially at times like this, where the world's gone to whatever." She shrugged her green leaf. "That's what music's always done for us, after all."

     Berryl's gaze caught her acorn cup.

     "I suppose you're right."

     She had known, really, deep down. She had just needed a little reminder.

     "Of course I'm right!" the Loveberry laughed, this time at full volume, catching her old Lightmite friend by surprise at the other end of the bar, "Why else would the Springabee Queen have booked us anyway?! They don't just invite any old band over to the Hive!"

     "Chloe's going through a phase?" the Rotten Berry deadpanly responded.

     Causing her friend to snortle. "Well," Aoife declared, "let's make it the best phase ever!"

     -----

     By the side of the grey cursed Meri Acres Farmhouse, its wattle and daub walls blighted in much the same way as the berry fields and hay pastures that surrounded it, sat an old tree stump. Its formerly brown wooden bark now almost charcoal in colour, thanks to the effects of the Kingdom-wide malady, its long-since hollowed out interior had been home to generations of Springabee for as long as any petpetpet could remember. On this day, the Hive was all abuzz for it was Princess Chloe's birthday, and they were all invited. And the Springabee Queen was going to make sure that this year's party was not going to be one her heir or subjects were going to forget in a hurry.

     With the large matchbox stage set and a crowd of Springabee having already gathered in eager anticipation, Berryl bounced onto the structure to join her Loveberry bandmates and their homemade instruments. The Rotten Berry took a moment to centre herself before addressing the excited audience. "Hey, folks." The cheer surprised her. But settled her nerves. Gesturing with her stalk, she continued, confidence increasing with every word, "Over there is Bea on the Drums, that's Lyv on the bass, and she's Aoife on the guitar." She was ready. "I'm Rotten Berryl, they're the Heartbreakers, and this first song is a shoutout to the birthday girl..."

     The End.