Chapter Text
George hunched over in his chair, avoiding his own reflection in his second monitor. He knew he had to stream today but he wanted nothing more than to put his biggest hoodie on and lay in bed all day. But he couldn't, he already skipped yesterday’s lore events on the server under the pretense of being asleep, it wouldn't work twice in a row.
There was an itchiness behind his skin, discomfort crawling under the surface. For the past couple of days his eyes caught on to every flaw on his body, the ways his hips were too large, too feminine , his shoulders not broad enough, he wasn't tall enough, he didn't look like a real man.
His fingernails dragged across his scalp painfully, barely grounding him.
He thought he was over it, over the dysphoria, he had spent the past 5 years on T, got a top surgery as soon as he had turned 20 and had the money for it, not a single person accidentally misgendered him these days anymore.
It was a offhand comment from Sapnap that had sent him spiraling down, something pretty innocent, he couldn't even remember the exact wording of it, something along the line of him having a girly scream after one of his screeches, followed up soon after by mockingly calling him a lady when he giggled, Dream continuing the joke, both men not knowing how much these particular words affected him.
Deep down he knew he couldn't blame his friends, it was George's own fault for never telling them, he hadn't been able to bring himself to come out to them when he met them, voice deep enough to pass for a young cis man then, even if his appearance was not quite passing, and by the time he had shown his face to them, and to the world, he looked pretty much like any other guy, although slightly younger, the curse (or blessing) of being a trans man.
The comfort it brought him to think that most people these days never even thought of him as anything else than a man was addicting, but it also meant that people didn’t know what kind of comments got under his skin, making him doubt himself.
His mind was his own greatest enemy these days.
He choked off a sob, he needed to stop crying, he was supposed to stream in less than two hours and he couldn’t afford to wreck his voice and his appearance, people would notice. The thought of having thousands of eyes trained on him today made him slightly nauseous, but not using a face cam would elicit too many questions, and he didn’t want to unnecessarily worry people.
The phone sitting on the corner of his desk rang, Quackity’s profile picture staring back at him. Wasn’t the man streaming?
George declined, the phone immediately ringing again. He swiped across the screen once more, the device going dark for barely a second before lighting up with an incoming call yet again. He sighed angrily, what the fuck did Quackity need him so bad for?
He quickly typed out the man’s name in the twitch search bar, clicking on his stream. He could see him typing on his phone, probably trying to call him again, while Karl talked to Sapnap in the background.
“Dude, he’s probably sleeping, he’s not gonna answer, just give up it’s fine we can ask someone else.” Sapnap spoke up.
Quackity looked up, briefly considering following the Texan’s advice before dismissing it.
“No, it’s not ringing at all, he’s declining my calls, which means he’s awake!”
George closed the stream, running a hand through his hair, ignoring the buzzing of his phone once again, annoyance filling him, didn’t the man know when to stop?
He received a barrage of texts in quick succession, Quackity was just sending him ‘ANSWER’ , over and over again.
His phone rang with a facetime call from Quackity, again . Knowing the other man wouldn’t give up until he got an answer, George reluctantly accepted the call, turning off the camera.
“What?” George bit off, showing his annoyance, he winced at how scratchy his voice sounded, he was clearly dehydrated from all the crying he had been doing recently.
“Ohhh Georgie chill, you’re on your period or something?” Quackity replied teasingly, taken aback by his hostility.
George clenched his fist, nails digging deeply into his palm.
“Fuck off, stop calling me.” He said, not caring about the fact that he swore on the man’s stream.
He paused for a second, Quackity completely stunned and silent on the other side of the phone.
“Please.” He added, somewhat desperately, before hanging up, tossing the phone on his bed, letting himself collapse on top of his desk.
He unclenched his fist, tracing the small crescents left behind on his palm where his nails had been.
What had he said about not worrying people unnecessarily?
Fans were probably freaking out right now, he wasn’t one to ever get angry on stream, and he had just told his friend who only wanted to poke some fun at him to fuck off.
He opened Twitter on his computer, refreshing his timeline, only to grimace when he saw he was the subject of most of the fan accounts’ recent tweets.
‘Yo what’s wrong with George? /gen’
‘Is it just me or did he literally sound like he was crying?’
‘Quackity went too far honestly, he should have stopped calling when he saw George kept declining his calls /srs’
‘That little “please” legit broke my heart, hope he’s okay…’
He promptly closed the tab, powering down his computer, not wanting to see any more pitying tweets about him. He curled up in his chair, bringing his knees up to his chest, exhaling shakily. He hated feeling like this, so wrong.
Bringing a hand to his face he tried to feel for the slight stubble that sometimes appeared on his chin, the closest thing he could ever get to growing a full beard, but he had shaved at the beginning of the week, and only smooth skin met his fingertips. Like a girl.
He remembered the taunting words of his classmates when he had come out, back in high school, he liked to think that kids were more accepting these days but he didn’t know if that was really true or wishful thinking.
He traced the small scar sitting right below his right eye, on his cheekbone, an eternal reminder to never trust. Trusting meant letting your guard down, and letting your guard down always meant getting hurt in the end.
After what felt like hours of staring into to space, reminiscing, but was probably a little bit closer to an hour, he gathered the courage to stretch out, rising up from his chair, flinching at the sharp ache in his neck and back, probably the consequence of being folded over for so long.
He needed to get dressed, get his streaming setup ready, and most importantly figure out what he wanted to stream, he was dead set on doing a solo stream, not wanting the awkward presence of his friends tip-toeing around him after his earlier outburst, but he didn’t know what to do exactly.
Heading to his wardrobe he pulled out various hoodies, settling on his most oversized one, a dark blue one that he liked to hide behind on bad days. He knew the late June heat didn’t really lend itself well to wearing such warm clothes but he couldn't bring himself to just wear a t-shirt today. Despite his flat chest he felt like people would comment on his frail shoulders, or the lack of muscle definition on his arms, and if they didn’t comment on it George would see himself on his camera feedback and wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.
He quickly put his outfit on, picking up his phone, dozens of notifications staring back at him. Quackity had messaged him multiple times apologizing and asking him if he was alright, Sapnap and Karl had similarly messaged him, wondering if he was okay. Dream had tried to call him twice before giving up, leaving him a text simply saying ‘call me back when you have some time, love you’.
He replied to Quackity first: ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to snap at you, hope we’re okay’, getting an enthusiastic response from the younger man almost instantly, relief filling him. He sent almost identical replies to Sapnap and Karl, too mentally exhausted to even think of what he wanted to say. Finally, he opened his chat with Dream, telling him he would call him later, cringing at the thought that the man had obviously heard about his little temper tantrum despite not being on Quackity’s stream.
He put his phone down and tweeted about his live, most of the replies overwhelmingly positive, his eyes stopping on the ones calling him boring a little bit longer than usual today, but ultimately dismissing them, words on the internet meant nothing compared to some of the things he went through when he had first come out, this couldn’t hurt him.
He stared at the trans pride flag sitting on the other side of his monitor, behind the camera, where no one but him could see it.
What an ironic thing to do, pretending to be loud, be proud by displaying it on his wall but never telling anyone? What a joke he was.
He had been streaming for a little bit over an hour, ignoring or deflecting any donos related to his previous outburst this afternoon, focusing on his admittedly pretty miserable speedrunning attempts.
“George, I want to come out to my family but I don't think they will be supportive, any advice?” He read from the donation he just received.
He took a moment to think about it, not wanting to give bad advice or sound like he was giving an answer that was a little bit too much based on his own experiences.
“Um... uh, I think it’s important to be your true self but you should always prioritize being safe, so be careful” His eyes flickered to the flag on the wall in front of him, behind the monitor, and he mindlessly brushed his finger against the faint scar on his face.
“Don’t do anything that could get you kicked out before you have the means to support yourself, and test the waters I guess? Like discreetly check what their opinions on things are?” He fumbled awkwardly towards the end, realizing he had definitely made it too personal.
Most of the chat seemed surprised at how seriously he took the question, praising him for the advice. He changed the subject pretty quickly, abandoning his current speedrunning attempt and starting a new survival world, saying it took too long to find a nether fortress in the previous one.
He rubbed his eyes tiredly, glancing at his reflection in his second monitor, he had gotten plenty of comments about how tired he looked since the beginning of the stream and he couldn’t deny he looked like shit. He had dark eyebags beneath his eyes, probably due to the past few nights of restless sleep he had gotten, his hair was starting to be too long and he kept running his hand through it to try and get it away from his peripheral vision, messing it up even more.
He yawned, wearily reading the chat.
“I think I’m done for today Chat, I can’t see straight anymore honestly” he paused, reading the disappointed replies in his chat, thanking a couple of donators, “I know it was a pretty short stream but I would have felt bad about not streaming at all, I’m sorry.”
He mustered one last smile to the camera, waving, before he ended the stream, removing his headset and letting it clatter on his desk.
He was somewhat hungry but his tiredness took over everything else, he shuffled towards his bed, tossing his hoodie to the side before getting under the blanket and allowing sleep to drag him under for a well deserved couple hours of rest.