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Going out on dates was never his thing and how poorly Techno’s night had gone just proved to him more that he really wasn’t cut out for dates. It had been with the daughter of a friend of his mom’s and they had gone out on a few dates before this. She had been really nice so far and it wasn’t as bad as he was thinking, despite it being an obvious ploy by his mom to get him out of his apartment. They had gotten along really well actually, even if most of their conversations were just surface-based.
What they hadn’t discussed on their first few dates was work. Now, he wasn’t ashamed of his job, just like he didn’t run around yelling what he did. He was actually pretty proud of the community he had made and how much time and effort he had put into doing what he did. Obviously, when she asked, he had answered honestly and explained that he did Youtube and streaming full time. She had seemed a little shocked but asked how it was going. She seemed more concerned that it wasn’t exactly a supportive lifestyle so he talked about the fact that he had his own place and car and paid for everything with the money he made off of YouTube.
They talked a little more and he got the attention off of him by asking about what she did. He had been nearly positive she had moved on from his job and then she brought it back up by asking what videos he made. That’s where everything went downhill. As much as he seemed to enjoy fights and confrontation, that was in the presence of his friends and people he knew fairly well. It wasn’t in the middle of an Italian restaurant with someone he had only met up with four times before. Not to mention, if he got offended and made a scene, everyone would be looking at him and he would literally rather die than sit through that.
So he sat and let her insult his work and passions, calling him immature and saying that video games, Minecraft specifically, were childish. He called for the check early and, yes even though she insulted him, he still made a point to pay. As soon as it was over, he offered a polite smile and said his goodbyes. She just told him to keep what she said in mind and that they have been a good couple had he had a real job.
There was that phrase again. A real job. As if he didn’t spend hours and days just staring at numbers and spreadsheets, as if he hadn’t spent hundreds of hours on this one game that he did love. He played game mode after game mode, joined server after server, played tournament after tournament after tournament. He poured his life into this, he loved what he did and he was still so undermined because nobody considered it to be a real job. He was just grateful his parents or close friends never said that to him. He could deal with family members and old friends and girls he had gone on dates with, but he wouldn’t have gotten this far by himself.
He locked his front door behind him and sighed into the darkness of the small entryway. His keys were tossed into the little clay bowl his sister made him a few years ago and his shoes were just kicked off and away. He didn’t have the energy to properly put them on the rack and he could hear his grandmother’s scolding in the back of his mind. He didn’t even bother changing, just pulled off the tie he wore and slumping into his computer chair. The dark gray circles next to his friend’s icons stared back at him.
It didn’t shock him, Britain’s timezone was 8 hours ahead of his own. He checked the time. 10:57. It was nearly 7 am over in Britain, there was no way anyone would be awake. It didn’t bug him, he was fine. He could spend hours drowning himself in content and videos and then go to sleep. He could edit a few videos, lose interest in each one halfway through and move on to another new project. Even as he did, he could still see the drop of a smile and a sigh, the little frown from someone he thought he could get along with.
He worked until his eyes burned and there was a ping from his Discord. He pulled up the tab, rubbing across his tired eyes and raising an eyebrow. Ah, Wilbur.
WilburSoot
Morning
He sent a simple “Hello” back, returning to scrolling through his Twitter timeline. He frequently switched back to his messages with Wilbur, them chatting about their days and Wilbur complaining about the shitty cereal he had in his apartment. He had almost forgotten about his shitty date until Wilbur asked about it.
Technoblade
Eh. It could’ve gone better.
WilburSoot
Tf do you mean “could’ve gone better”
Technoblade
Will, idk how to tell you this
Not a lot of people want to date a guy who plays Minecraft for a living it seems. Not a “real job” to a lot of people. Job stability is usually a concern in relationships.
It’s cool though.
WilburSoot is typing…
Techno rolled his eyes, ignoring the little pop-up. He didn’t want sympathy. He really hadn’t known this girl that much, even if he had been interested in her. It wasn’t like he had gotten his heart shattered into pieces or that he had gotten a divorce. It was just a girl that he had gone out with a few times, someone he hadn’t even called his girlfriend. He shouldn’t be surprised either. It wasn’t as if he was someone anyone would want as their boyfriend, YouTube money or otherwise.
He sank his hands into his hair and slumped against his desk, feeling his mood sink further than it had been. That pit in his chest sank into his stomach and he felt his nails bite into his scalp, his grip tightening and twisting the locks. He swallowed back the growing panic in his chest, the one that reminded him of her mocking tone, the one that matched his Aunt’s, his Grandfather’s, some of his friends. No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape that tone. It was the tone of voice that told him that he wasn’t good enough, that he disappointed them.
His Discord rapidly pinging made him resurface a bit, even if reality was like a mirage in his mind. Everything was hazy and he was so hot and he couldn’t breathe, but he could see a little bit. Mostly messages from Wilbur followed by some from Philza. He frowned a little and checked the time. Ah. 2:43. It seems he had zoned out for a while there, as Wilbur woke up around 9 and now it was nearly 11 over there. It was an acceptable time for Phil to be awake and usually, he would have responded to Phil’s morning messages by now.
He sent messages to both Phil and Wilbur to tell them that he was okay, but that wasn’t satisfying to them it seemed. They both asked for a voice call in one of their group chats and he hesitated, not wanting them to hear or see him like this. He didn’t need their worry or sympathy. He was a grown man, he could handle himself and could handle being told by a cute girl that his job wasn’t actually a job. It wasn’t like this situation was unfamiliar.
But Phil seemed so worried and Techno hated worrying Phil so he joined the call, the ringing continuing longer as Tommy didn’t pick up. Once the sound stopped, he took in a steadying breath. “Hullo.” He murmurs, flinching at how rough his voice sounded. They gave him a second, mostly to think and he was sure that they knew something was wrong. “Uh, what’s up?” He asks and he’s never felt so unsure of himself. Phil starts off with light chatter and the dread in his stomach lightens. His friends talk about their stream plans, Phil gets over-excited about a building project he had planned for his hardcore world.
It’s light-hearted and distracts from the dread in his stomach. He thinks he’s free from having to talk about his feelings until Phil asks if he’s feeling a bit better. “Um..” He grumbled, running around the random single-player world he had made while they talked. “I’m fine now, I guess. Still sucks..” He earned two noises of sympathy as well as words of comfort and huffed out a sigh. He loved Phil and Wilbur, he swore on his life that he did, but they really did not get how to comfort him. Not that he needed it.
“HEY GUYS!”
They all teasingly groaned at the loud exclamation that followed the noise of someone else joining their call. Tommy wasn’t at his house and the grainy sound of Discord mobile proved that. There was talking in the background, as well as clinking noises. “Did you… call us at lunch, Tommy?” Wilbur sounded so unbearably fond that Techno wanted to choke. He snorted in response, listening to Tommy sputter for a response. Finally, the teenager sighed.
“Yeah, I saw everyone on and, uh, wanted to join.” The admission was quiet and Techno laughed under his breath, drawing his legs up onto his chair. It wasn’t a comfortable position by any means, him being so tall and scrunching up so small, but that’s what made it so comfortable at the same time. “So what are we talking about?” Techno rolls his eyes at Phil and Wilbur’s hesitant coverups. They’re both such bad liars sometimes, it was ridiculous.
“This girl I went on a few dates with basically called me a jobless loser and they’re tryna cheer me up.” He deadpanned and Tommy went silent before bursting into laughter. The teenager cackled for a good few minutes with Wilbur telling him to stop and be serious. It took someone on Tommy’s end to tell him to shut up before the kid did and finally, Tommy spoke up, a smile evident in his voice.
There was a moment of Tommy taking in deep breaths before he scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. You don’t need women, you’re fucking Technoblade. Who cares what some rotten prick thinks?” He blinks a few times before smiling. Oddly enough, hearing Tommy say that made him feel much better, much more normal. Not that Phil and Wilbur hadn’t helped, it was just that they were too worried about stepping on his toes sometimes. Tommy was a breath of fresh air, someone who didn’t think much about what he said. That or he knew what Techno needed to hear and, truthfully, Techno wouldn’t doubt the latter. Tommy was ridiculously smart, it wouldn’t surprise him to know that he could tell what was needed just by a few exchanged words.
“Yeah, guess you’re right. For once. And this is the only time I’m saying it.”