Chapter Text
Donald watched from across the crowed hall as Jose flirted with a bunch of girls.
Something about that made a ting of jealousy smite him.
Ok, sure, he didn’t want the girl’s attention. In fact If any of those girls was to ask him out - a drastically impossible event -he would decline.
No. It wasn’t that. He was jealous of his confidence, of his social skills, of his personality, of his looks - of his everything! Donald was skinny, too skinny and scrawny to the point were his ribs are clearly toned. You’d think going on adventures on the regular would built muscle right?
For Della, yes.
She was strong and brave and pretty. He hadn’t gained any muscle, in fact - instead of gaining muscle mass, he just lost fat.
He had complained to uncle Scrooge about it. And came the obvious response; eat more. To stop skipping breakfast, to stop skipping lunch and to stop only eating like a half of dinner. He always complained he never ate enough. Something about ‘NuTriTiOn’.
But he couldn’t eat more of dinner, it made him feel sick! His stomach couldn’t take it all at once. Just eating food made him feel like crap so he avoids it as much as possible.
But back to the new guy.
Why couldn’t he do what he was doing? Why couldn’t he just go up to people and start talking? Why did he stutter or panic and say things that scared them away? Why dose he choose to eat lunch alone in the empty office?
Why wasn’t he normal?
It wasn’t fair! He just got here a few hour ago and he’s already got people flocking around him!
It felt as if…as if…everyone could fly! Everyone except him. As if they all socialised at high altitudes while he was forced to observe from bellow. All he can do is Watch them flourish as he slowly sinks deeper into the ground.
’Dramatic much.’
He just wanted to be somebody else, anyone else!
Anyone other than him.
Tears shined in his eyes but he didn’t allow them to spill. He lowered his head - attempting to draw them back into his eyes - when he saw those familiar jean’s.
His face rose to immediately be met by Jose’s, tilted with that same, cheeky, cocky smile,
“You’re staring again pato.”
Donald shoved him away; not fluster (unlike last time), angry, And stomped off.
Again leaving an confused parrot wondering what he did wrong.