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The first drum beat hit him like a sledgehammer. Right in the chest with the force of a full swing.
Scott had never seen taiko drumming before, and of course he was excited, all the way up until it started.
The sudden noise in the enclosed practice room immediately set him on edge. The resounding drum beats forced his heart to keep up faster than it ordinarily should, and the flute provided an unnerving backing track for his sudden and growing distress.
His gaze snapped rapidly between the bachi drumsticks as they continuously assaulted him with noise. The sounds echoed throughout his ribcage like caged rabbits, begging to be anywhere else.
He was breathing too quick–he needed to calm down.
Scott's eyes flicked to his friends, looking on and enjoying the performance, eagerly awaiting their turn to try it out. Meanwhile, he felt that if he were any closer to the drumming, he would break down into sobs.
In fact, tears had started welling in his eyes from the moment the performance began. His anxiety only heightened the faster and longer they played.
Throughout its duration, the music had slowly and thoroughly ensnared Scott's throat. The choking sensation was near unbearable by the time the drum beats slowed to a stop.
Scott shakily sighed in relief, and for a split second was smiling and preparing to clap politely for an objectively good performance–when suddenly it all started up again.
In that brief rest, Scott's body had lost all familiarity with the sensations, making the next hit even more jarring than the first.
It was all too much. The drums on his ribcage, the flute screeching in his ears, and the sharp ring of the bell in case the rest wasn't enough to drive him over the edge.
Scott needed to get out, but his body was frozen against the heavy assault.
It would be rude, it wouldn't be okay to walk out in the middle of the performance. He could handle it. Just a little longer–a little more–it would end soon.
Except it didn't.
The threads of Scott's composure thinned nearly to their snapping point before his silent prayers were finally answered. The moment it stopped–for real this time–and everyone clapped, Scott shoved his way out of the small crowd and fled to the hallway.
He just had to keep it together for one more moment, one more breath.
The bathroom was around the corner, and he only stopped to glance and make sure it was the correct bathroom before pushing inside and locking the door.
The tears started flowing freely and each breath came as a short and shallow gasp.
It was just him. He was fine. Scott was fine–or would be in a moment as soon as he could get control over this panic attack–that’s what it was.
He wasn't stupid, just overwhelmed. Slowly though, the tightness around his throat loosened, and breathing became easier.
The small mirror provided in the bathroom told Scott he looked about as awful as he felt. The teartracks and runny nose certainly weren't doing him any favors.
Scott took a deep, slightly unsteady breath and went through the motions of cleaning himself up. He exited the bathroom when he felt somewhat calmer, and almost immediately, he came face to face with a concerned looking Jimmy.
He cursed the warm feeling that spread through his chest seeing that Jimmy had come after him. Now wasn't the time for silly crushes.
Scott tried to smile. “Hey.”
“Hi, um, are you okay?”
Just those words alone summoned more tears to the surface, which Scott quickly wiped away.
“Yeah, I'm fine.” But his voice sounded choked even to him.
“It was pretty loud in there,” Jimmy said carefully.
Scott quickly nodded. “Yeah, it was.”
They walked back to the lobby area near the practice room. His other friends must have started the lesson judging by the muffled playing that filtered out. Thankfully, it was far enough away not to trigger him again.
Scott sat down on the nearest seat, forcing himself to take controlled breaths. He knew they helped.
Jimmy stood awkwardly to the side, looking very much like he wanted to reach out or say something. Scott was honestly surprised he hadn't already, considering his natural empathy.
Of course, he did eventually.
“Are you sure you're alright?”
Another tear escaped, which Scott swiped away. “I w-ill be.”
Damn it, could his voice just hold out for one short exchange?
“...would you like a hug?” Jimmy asked softly, arms slightly open in invitation.
Scott caved immediately.
He carefully stood up and stepped into Jimmy's arms, his own coming up to grasp him tightly around the waist. And, it helped.
Surely hugging any of his friends would have helped. It didn't have to be Jimmy, but… Scott could admit that he was happy it was.
When it felt like he'd overstayed his welcome, Scott tried to subtly signal that the hug was finished and pull away, but Jimmy's arms remained holding him firmly. He felt conflicted for a moment before accepting the prolonged comfort and leaning into the embrace.
He could let himself have this much, right?
Scott sighed out the tension in his body along with a final couple tears, selfishly burying his face in his taller friend's shoulder.
He couldn't decide if it was worth the panic attack to get here, but… it sure was nice.