SPAM FLAG 3x+ LESS LAGGY VERSION: https://turbowarp.org/706991425 i had to shorten the story a LOT more than I would've liked, since it was too long anyhow, hope you enjoy! - - heather, or sunny, as her closest friends knew her, used to be a well-respected celebrity. that is, until the death of her best friend, daisy, after they fought and daisy cut her off. two years later, daisy took off in a flight to new york, and died in a terrorist attack on that very day, now known as the 9/11 attacks. broken with grief and guilt, heather began doing more and more poorly on her musical performances. soon, an impulsive mistake led to the fall of her entire career, leaving her with more debt and damage than she could afford. with the little money she had left, she decided to move back into california, into the little apartment building she and her friend had once shared. the situation seemed hopeless- no friends, no job, until heather discovers a small ancient record player in her apartment. Intrigued, she finds that it is in working condition- and seems to allow her to talk to someone who had lived here in the past. that's how she meets another young, energetic feline- melon. “nice to meet you! i’m sunflower, but you can call me sunny,” heather spoke into the tiny mic attached to the record player. her wide grin was well hidden, leaving only polite friendliness in her voice. hesitance from the other line was clear, and the seconds seemed to drag on forever before she replied, “and you can call me melon.” - - with neither cat trusting the other, they had given themselves code names; but soon, despite their doubts, heather and melon became best friends. heather lived in 2004, and melon 1999. they bonded over late-night conversations, as well as their shared love for music— each cat surprising the other with their vocal and instrumental talent. they would use the magical record player to record short videos, which would be transmitted into a little black disc and could be replayed as holographic recordings. through melon's support, heather was becoming more and more confident in her music— eventually finding an opportunity to continue doing what she loved for a living. but she’d have to move into new york, leaving behind the record player which, frustratingly, only ever worked if it remained in the very same room in that apartment building. she’d have to leave melon behind. and so, on september 10th, melon decided to fly into new york too— and wait three years for heather. after an excited mutual agreement, heather fell asleep content knowing she'd soon see her friend. then 12 hours later, heather woke up in cold sweat in realization that melon had took off the same day as the september 11 attacks. the same way daisy died.. and in a flight to new york. she sprang up in dead midnight, bolting to the living room where the record player lay. how could she have been so stupid? with shaking paws, heather opened the case to find the disc waiting to be played. in it was a three-minute voice recording, left by melon. "sunny, i did it. i wanted to be in the news, didn't i? well, i'm here now." through the voicemail, she could hear melon chuckle weakly. "what a dark sense of humor i have. i don't know what this will be known as in 2004, but it's probably going to be something big. the passengers are gaining back control of the plane, but it's still going to crash. there's nothing we can do. i just hope-" melon's voice cracked for a second, "i just hope, that you can still remember me." "you know, you remind me a lot of my friend. she left for new york after we fought... she probably still hates me..." heather's blood turned ice cold, and her paws shook with realization. realization, of so many things. "maybe- maybe we can start over, if you can ever forgive me. i'm daisy, or melon as you know me..." silent tears streamed down heather's cheeks, spilling drop by drop onto the cold, wooden floor as her breaths turned into barely-suppressed sobs. "we could have shared so much with each other. daisy is my real name. and if i'm wrong about who you are, then you'd probably think i'm just some random idiot..." "but i hope you're doing well, heather. you mean so much more than i can ever say. stay sa-" the voicemail cut off with a beep, and the little black disc slipped from heather's paws and shattered onto the ground. - - daisy’s second death hit much harder than her first, but it also came with hope. daisy wouldn't want heather to mope around, she'd want her to put herself out there and DO something. with this, heather moved back to california to pursue her new job. as she stood on the floors of that very same metro station, she noticed that everything was the same. still bustling with people and noise two years later. she closed her eyes, and let her tears fall as she smiled. "i'll never forget you, daisy." - - credits: all art and code - me song - record player | AJR & Daisy the Great designs - look inside for more
