Chapter Text
“‘Ey, Pie-Eata’! You’se looking real good taday!”
Race shouldn’t have said that. He really, really shouldn’t have said that.
He shouldn’t give Pie-Eater false hope. But as he thanks him, heart pounding in his chest and head reeling, the memory of two seconds ago foggy and unreal, he starts to think there’s hope.
Race never really talks to him after that.
∗∗∗☆∗∗∗
It’s been weeks, Pie-Eater feels gross for these feelings. Race has been hanging with Buttons a lot, too, and it makes him sick. Pie-Eater wants to die. Really fucking bad.
He hates Buttons. At first, he kinda liked him, but now he just wishes he could never see him again. He’s all Pie-Eater wants to be. He talks to the others, making friends with who he wishes he could be friends with, really, really, fucking bad. He’s athletic, doing sporty things Pie-Eater would kill to do. And his role is way more important, he’s more on Jack and Race and Crutchie and everyone’s good side. Pie-Eater hardly was talked to, and he would feel ecstatic if they did, he would cut his own selling hand off for it.
Two people talk to him, like Ike, they bonded over both being twins, both never being in school, both getting along real well.
Pie-Eater stares at Buttons with hatred, and Race with love and adoration.
He had no choice. Talk to him? Race would never want to talk to him, let alone want to be friends with him or date him, no newsie would. He’d have to stick with staring in the distance, wishing he’d speak up, that things were different, that things would change overnight. He wanted to hurt himself, to die. But God, that was so dramatic.
He told one newsie of his crush, Snitch. He knew Snitch told everyone everything, but it was different with them. Snitch was Ike’s friend, they all became friends when they were introduced to each other when Pie-Eater and (Other) first started out.
“I thinks Racer is inta ladies, not fellas. I’se ain’t totally sure, I don’t knows him too well. Sorry Pie.”
Pie wanted to kill himself.
Snitch would tease him for his crush on a boy who would never look his way, and who would never be into their shared gender. Pie-Eater found it funny to act upset, feeling happy and relieved he wasn’t dealing with this shit on his own.
It still hurt how he’d cry over him every night.
He had to stop saying he was suicidal just ‘cause of a hopeless crush and hopeless friend-attractions. He needed to get over his jealousy and feeling of unimportance and invisibility. He was sure he mattered, he was just tired of this shit.
∗∗∗☆∗∗∗
Pie-Eater was destined for fantasy and disappointment. He wished he could just push forward, make friends, make a move. Wish he’d stop hating, stop crushing, stop feeling hopeless and stop feeling lonely. Stop being nothing to the side and just being useless.
He would never stop any of it, though. He was so tired. And sick.