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Summary
In many occasions Daron would be in some corner, wearing one of Serj’s or Shavo’s baggy shirts or sweaters that would reach Daron mid thigh or even lower. He hoped he was wearing shorts under those, but he was quite afraid that was not the case. He’d follow the boys around with his eyes that would stare at Daron with hungry looks and he could relate as he tried not to do the same.
Some sadness would fill his lungs up like water as he knew none of the guys would ever look at him like that. He was too big, too awkward, his face too wide, too unattractive. His eyes weren’t near as expressive as Daron’s, his mind wasn’t close as brilliant, his spirit not near as artistic, fingers nowhere close being as talented. John was… just John, and there was no way around it.
OR: The one where John is deeply in love with his band mates, but doesn't see that they love him back.