He doesn’t watch The Price is Right anymore.
When it comes on the TV, he feels his stomach drop and his face gets hot. He jumps up and changes it before he can get lost in the vivid memories of that surreal summer afternoon, where she was there with him and could still look him in the eye and all was right in the world. Sometimes, he’ll be in the basement with Donna or Forman, and he can’t rush to change the channel and the excruciating reality of his life without her overtakes him.
He tries to block the horrid thought, but he can’t help but wonder: is she with him in their apartment, watching Bob Barker call up yet another old lady like they once did? Or worse, is it playing in the background, while she kisses someone else, the way she did with him, on a fateful summer afternoon?
He listens to Abba sometimes.
He’ll never admit it because it’s the single most embarrassing thing he can think of. Sometimes, when he’s alone at Grooves late at night, he’ll pull out one of the Abba records and play it, letting his mind wander to nights past. Nights where she’d sneak over from Donna’s house into the basement, and she’d put an Abba record on and dance around his room. He’d watch her, memorizing everything about her like the way her hips swayed and the smile on her face. Or when they were cruising late at night, going nowhere and everywhere, and he’d give in and let her music play, glancing at her from the side of his eye, laughing at her off-key singing. He lets the synth-pop rhythms of the music he hates take him to his favorite place in the world, which has always been her.
A piercing ache comes over his body as he envisions her dancing and singing for Fez.
He can’t look at Pudding Pops.
The first time that Sam offers him one, it’s like he’d just been stabbed by a hundred swords. He doesn’t look her in the eye. He doesn’t even answer her as he storms out of the room. Later he tells her that he was drunk and out of it. It was an obvious lie, but he knew she believed it.
After that, he feels like throwing up every time he sees one.
One day, she’s sitting in the basement on Fez’s lap and she’s eating a pudding pop and he thinks that this is the definition of hell. He can’t breathe and he can’t stop staring at her. The incessant want to grab her from Fez and closer to him nearly suffocates him. He thinks Forman notices how he can’t stop staring at them, but if he does he never mentions it. And Hyde is grateful for that. But he can’t handle this. It gets to the point where he tells Mrs. Forman not to buy them anymore, and she looks at him with sympathy and shock, but she doesn’t buy them again.
Does she call Fez her Puddin’ Pop now?
He misses her.
He feels like dying.