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Leo Kurosagi was no stranger to haters. As an influencer, he is always bound to encounter that one pathetic group of plebeians with no life who feel compelled to say mean things in his DMs or comments sections. But that never really bothered him too much.
“I can’t believe people actually like you” You projecting your own insecurities is a skill issue.
“You’re a terrible role model for young people." Oh, hey. A wild Karen appeared.
"Another day, another attention grab." Doesn’t seem like anyone’s holding you at gunpoint to watch my stuff, so why are you here?
He’d seen it all before, hundreds of times over. His fan base was still thriving, so why should he care? Why should their opinions matter? He could roll his eyes, make a snarky comeback in a TikTok if he deemed the comment to be worth his time, and keep moving forward like always. That’s what he told himself, even when you looked him straight in the eye and told him how angry you were with him. He swears he’d never seen you look so pathetic with your face all red and with tears streaming down your face. Even more so when you stormed away from him. They were just words from a really pathetic bitch, right?
And when he eavesdropped you venting to those Frostheim losers about him, he laughed it off—at least, outwardly. He didn’t care what you said. He didn’t care about the looks of utter indignation on those losers’ faces. He didn’t. You were nothing more than another NPC. And they looked almost as stupid as you did when you cussed him out. And yet you told them it wasn't worth it to confront him. But then why did the stinging sensation in his chest still persist? The sensation felt quite dull at first, like an old pin poking at his skin. Annoying but bearable, but he couldn’t seem to ignore it as time went on.
It didn’t make sense. People criticized him all the time, and he was fine. He was always fine. Except now, every comeback he thought of sounded hollow, every excuse flimsy. He repeated the same mantra in his head, louder each time: It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.
But here he is, laying in his bed, staring at his phone screen. The words “this user has blocked you” under your profile seemed to mock him. He flipped through every one of your socials only to be met with the same thing on each page. He was expecting this, though. He’s not unaware of how he’d treated you in the past. He’d mock you relentlessly, use you to eavesdrop on juicy drama, use you as a prop for his TikTok, nigh everything in the book. He told himself that when this would inevitably happen, he wouldn’t give you a second thought. So why did it hurt when you turned in the opposite direction whenever he ran into you? Why did it hurt when you ignored him, opting to give your attention to Sho or the himbo of a dorm captain?
Speaking of the himbo, even Alan noticed how distant you were becoming with him. And wow was he not pleased. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you gotta sort this out,” is what he’d say with a scowl. ‘Oh shiver me timbers,’ is what he’d wanted to say, sarcastic and scathing, but he can’t seem to get the words out. Even though Sho also fully expected this to happen, he was surprised at how soon it all fell apart. He didn’t say much, but his lingering glances and the way he seemed just a little too quiet around you, Alan, and him spoke volumes. It was like he was watching a storm roll in, powerless to stop it but unwilling to look away.
Your kindness was sickening. Leo convinced himself of that, so you withdrawing from him should have been good for his health. He told himself this like a mantra. Like a prayer, but apparently it went unanswered. The dull throbbing of the emptiness he felt only seemed to intensify the more he denied it. It’s not like he could do anything about it, so what’s the point? You hated him for everything he’d done.
He closed all his socials with a click of his tongue, turned off his phone and stared up at the ceiling as if it would help to alleviate the pain. The silence of his room only felt suffocating, and his skin felt even colder than when after getting out of the bath. Shadows from the dim light traced faint patterns above, but they brought no comfort. Instead, they only seemed to mock him, twisting into shapes that resembled everything he didn’t want to think about.
“...”
“Pathetic bitch,” Leo muttered.