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Everyone, including strangers, can tell that Angela enjoys her job at Smosh because it is true, she does. She really does. There is nothing that brings her more joy than doing live streams on the gaming channel with Spencer and Tommy or writing comedic parody songs with Chanse, but sometimes the consistently loud environment and nonstop energy can be too much for her to handle.
Angela is aware she is a part of the problem. Arguably, she is the biggest part of the problem. She receives constant comments that her volume is overbearing, that yelling does not equal funny, and her often described as over the top reactions to losing a game are distracting, taking viewers out of the moment. While Angela won't disagree with any of those things, she can't help herself. She feels the need to keep herself on top of the hierarchy to ensure no other members can coax her into an over-stimulation breakdown by being noisy or frantically moving around the sound stage, the camera operators following swiftly behind to ensure no action is missed. Surprisingly, it is a relatively effective strategy even though she wishes it did not come with the title of "the girl who drank paint water" or "the girl who thought 9/11 was in 2011" considering both of those were genuine one-off accidents. Needless to say, Angela has a love-hate relationship with her reputation.
Angela can force her online persona as hard as she wants during shoot days and she tries her hardest to make it seem authentic, but it still is not enough sometimes. It is not enough for Angela to just... calm down and take in her environment and surroundings like a normal functioning human instead of it leading her down a rabbit hole full of tears and self-despair in the gender neutral bathroom in case she dares to think for a second too hard about the breath of the person sitting next to her or the smell of the Eat It or Yeet It in front of her like she desperately wishes.
Today is one of those days. Luckily, Angela has a two hour long break directly after lunch before finishing up with a round of Don't Win Mario Party where, of course, she has to wear the fucking cone again.
During her break, she sits on the green room couch alone aimlessly staring down. She hovers over the ground and traces invisible symmetrical shapes onto the floor with the toes of her boots by using both of her feet simultaneously in opposite directions. It was a technique she was taught in therapy and she is surprised at how effective it is. The best part is she can use the coping mechanism during shoots and nobody will know because they are often recording at a table set. Even when she does not have wooden protection, nobody bats an eye. It is common for people to move their toes or bounce their knees when sitting for an hour or longer who are "normal functioning".
An abrupt knock on the door causes Angela's neck to instinctively snap up in fear. Her wide eyes soften as soon as she realizes it is only Amanda entering the room. She forgot Amanda is off schedule now, too. Amanda runs over with a huge grin on her face, phone in hand with the app TikTok open. Angela flashes a weak smile and moves over towards the right side as an offering for the other woman to take a seat, which she does with enthusiasm.
"You have to see this video! It's about...well, just watch it! Trust me when I say it is hilarious" Amanda shoves her phone in Angela's face to which Angela replies by pushing it away with her arm without the obnoxious cast and sling combination that puts more attention on her than normal, if that is possible.
"Not right now," Angela says weakly. She expects Amanda to protest. To Angela's relief, she simply mutters an oh, okay underneath her breath and slides the device into the back pocket of her jeans where it stays most of the time she is at the office.
The pair sits in a rare awkward silence.
After a painful 30 seconds (that felt like an eternity), Amanda makes the decision to rip the bandage off to start the conversation she can tell Angela would rather do anything than have, whatever it is. "Did I do something wrong?" she asks without thinking first. She realizes immediately after the words escape from her lips that Angela will probably misinterpret it to be a spiteful dig instead of an honest inquiry.
And that is exactly what Angela did, but she pushes past her response to Amanda's question and starts talking. Nobody at Smosh knows about her struggle with ADHD symptoms except for Anthony and Damien who both openly experience similar emotions. She knows that they understand because they are diagnosed. She is not so sure if Amanda will. She trusts her regardless, so it is worth getting it off of her chest in this very moment before the gaming content ensues.
Angela turns slightly to face Amanda. "Sometimes it feels like the world is out to get me, like it's doing all of these tiny things that don't matter to most people just to piss me off and get a reaction out of me. Like it's amplifying everything so each noise around me is blaring into my ears and into my skull. I try to compensate by being obnoxious myself, but it isn't working today. I don't know why, it usually does work. Maybe I am not trying hard enough or maybe the universe is punishing me extra hard for something I did in middle school—"
Amanda cuts Angela off by holding up her pointer finger. Amanda can tell that Angela is more worked up than she tends to display publicly. Her larger than life hand gestures aren't a result of her Italian heritage, they are a result of the panic settling in her throat, threatening to spill over as vomit at any moment. Her body isn't shaking because she is cold, it is shaking because she needs to run out of her skin and far away from Amanda. She isn't blinking at the speed of light because she has something in her eye, she is blinking rapidly because she is also on the verge of crying.
Angela starts picking at a loose thread on her sling. Repetitive motions help soothe her broken brain. As much as Amanda wants to grab Angela and hug her, she goes with her better judgment.
Amanda takes a deep breath. "First of all, you aren't obnoxious," Angela opens her mouth to protest; Amanda does not let her get a word out. "All of the things that make you... you, are the things that we love about you. I get it, though. I am critical towards myself, too. Have you seen my old reporter reels? My cooking show? Not my best work, that is for sure. I got ripped apart, and rightfully so."
Angela lets out a soft laugh. Amanda joins in for a second then continues after the moment settles, "I can't relate to the other stuff. Unfortunately, this is just how I am. I wish I had some grand explanation like you. I don't always like myself either."
"Why not?"
"For the same reasons as you," Amanda is the shy one now, fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. Her watch buzzes with an iMessage notification that she would normally check the second it rang. Instead, she just flips her wrist the other way to black out the screen. Angela halts her own movements to study Amanda's intently. Perhaps Amanda understands better than Angela initially thought or that she is letting on, because Angela knows exactly what is going through Amanda’s head right now: She is doubting everything that she has said since sitting down is overthinking everything she could say in the next moments.
Angela clears her throat. "Well, I don't think you're obnoxious either." She probably could have conjured up something more sentimental to say, and she wishes she did although Amanda still appreciates it. Angela can tell by the way the corner of Amanda's mouth twitches upwards and the elbow she lovingly digs into Angela's side.
"Good. You're stuck with me."
Ahem, a voice travels into the green room from the hallway. Standing in the door frame is Tommy, holding up a platter of desserts. "Shayne made us all some cookies. Want one?" He inches his arms up higher while raising his eyebrows in temptation, wriggling them twice in succession.
Angela and Amanda both look at each other and eagerly nod their heads. Tommy rolls his eyes before heading over with the assortment of flavors from chocolate chip to sugar to caramel peanut butter. Of course there are vegan and gluten-free options for Anthony and Ian also. Both girls go for the classic chocolate chip option. They clink their cookies together with a toast as a suspicious grin spreads itself across Tommy's face. Somehow, he is able to read them better than they can read each other.