Chapter Text
Tommy's just an average seventeen-year-old. Well... Almost. Forget that he was a famous YouTuber and Twitch streamer, aside from that there was s something odd about him.
At least he thought it was odd. He was seventeen and he still hasn't had his first kiss yet.
Well anyways, he was laying in his bed chatting on Snapchat with his two closest friends. And no, he didn't mean Tubbo or Wilbur. It was with Freddie and Eryn.
When Freddie sent a snap, posing with a Durex box of condoms and saying "we finally did it". The text shocked Tommy. Not because he thought Freddie couldn't get some, he had been dating this girl for at least a few months now. No.
It was because he was the only one left in his friend group to have never have been in a relationship. And that hadn't bothered him much, well... It did a little more than he was expecting. But he buried that thought when Eryn broke it up with his girlfriend.
Tommy thought, at least I'm not the only virgin. But that was a lie now, he guesses. He felt happy for Freddie, he really did! But it kind of sent him spiraling.
Here he was having a great day and l when the snap came. He wasn't in love with Freddie or anything but to be honest he was a little jealous. Not for the part about being a nonvirgin (maybe a little) but having someone there.
Tommy didn't know anything about how it actually was being in a relationship. He only knew about it from the movies and the tv-shows. He was a little bit of a sap about romance movies.
On some level, he knew he idolized it too much, and that there was more to life than being in a relationship. But it still made him wonder.
You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.
So Tommy was left wondering. He lay in bed looking at his ceiling, while a playlist emitted from his phone. He didn't even know what he was listening to anymore. Lost in his thoughts.
He thought about how he got there. How he ended up to where he was. Where it started he couldn't remember.
He remembered good times from his childhood and bad ones from his preteen years. He remembered being bullied, nothing physical as he remembers. He remembers feeling alone and in the dark. He remembers feeling stupid and miserable. He can't remember what started it, maybe it was the stupid hormones or the snarky remarks from his classmates. They never really did like him, being too loud and weird to be accepted he thought.
He was conflicted about who he was as a person. About where he would be. About who he will be. And will he ever get better.
Tommy glanced at the countless white lines on his wrist where he tried to ease the pain.
The weird thing was, he couldn't remember most of it. For the life of him, he can't remember what his classmates said to make him want to turn himself into a cutting board. He didn't remember why he felt so alone. He had friends, kind of. He just hadn't talked to them at the time...
But that was all behind him. He made it to college. And although he had a bit of a trust issue problem, and a disdain for physical touch. He made it.
He liked to tell himself that therapy helped. He didn't know if it did through.
Therapy was something his parents have sent him to when he told him about his scars the summer before college. He wanted to bring the secret to his grave, and he hadn't cut for months at that point. But the scars had already formed, and he couldn't have been able to hide it from his parents with the hotter months coming in.
They sent him to a therapist. He went to it for 5 months, every two weeks and he felt as if he was getting nowhere with it. He guesses the therapist and him weren't a good match. After all, you were supposed to feel safe with your therapist, this one only made Tommy feel anxious about coming. Tommy figured it was because of trouble he had opening up to people.
It had something to do with his self-esteem or because of how sensitive he was. Doctors' words, not his. He didn't know what sentence did it but he convinced his parents that he was good again and safe enough to stop therapy.
And he was better yes. Not because of the doctor, but because of his surroundings. New school, new people, he started to trust again. He tried not to overthink as the therapists' words rang in his mind "maybe they weren't treating you badly, maybe you're just a little more sensitive to this stuff" so he basically called him a pussy. Not like Tommy could correct him, he couldn't remember much of what happened through year 6 to year 8 of school. Only bits and pieces.
When he got to 9th grade he started streaming more. He started to interact more a little by little. He grew his confidence a little by little. And have some faith in himself. Sure, he still had re-lapses sometimes. But he was doing better. He even came out as bi to his parents and friends.
So here came the question. If he was doing better why was he still alone.
He wasn't alone, he knew that. He had friends. And his friends had girlfriends and boyfriends. And he had his YouTube career.
He was confident in himself, he knew he wasn't horribly ugly or anything. So what was the problem? Less than two more years and he'd be out of college. You would've thought he would've find someone by now.
And it wasn't like he wasn't trying. He would see a cute guy at the party and flirt with him but one thing never lead to another. There were some girls interested in him but he never felt that attraction. Well, he has, but it was never mutual.
Out of tune by BoyWithUke sang from his phone. Even in this situation, he listened to love songs he had never truly understood.
The orange sky was slowly dripping in with the dark clouds. Starry skies bleeding in the sunset. Tommy had not paid attention to it, blankly staring lost in his thoughts.
Was there something wrong with him? All of those around him had had multiple if not at least one relationship. Was he just stunted? Unable to feel and connect. Hell, it took him almost two years after secondary school to even hug someone again.
Was he not pretty enough? Not smart enough? Not funny enough? Or just not enough?
A tear slipped from his cheek.
What if he would never be enough. He was always a little bit of an odd apple. And while media was all about embracing your unique self, he never knew if there would ever be anyone unique enough to accept him for the mess of who he was. He talked too much, was too loud, and was "sensitive".
More tears started dripping from his eyes, only proving the therapists' point.
He felt left out, and alone. He didn't want to be left with these thoughts once again. It never led to good things.
He sent a text to a group chat of his class buddies.
Anyone up for a drink?
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