Chapter Text
Pound is walking with Beer Keg and Glitchy. Their constant chatter slowly merges with the background noise, becoming static. Pound remained silent, not wanting to engage with whatever they're talking about. All he could think of was Fireball. He still blushed when he just thought of him, wanting nothing more than to be by his side. Fireball, however, had been acting significantly colder towards Pound. He always sneered at Pound whenever he simply passed by, obviously upset with him. Pound knew he was right to be. But he saw it. Every angry glance, every little frustrated groan when he walked into the room. He saw every ounce of anger seething from Fireball, and it chipped away at the remains of his heart. Pound still believed that Fireball was just upset, that maybe he didn't mean it.
Beer Keg was right, a voice in his head would say.
Fireball hated you. And he still does.
Of course he didn't! That's silly! He wouldn't. They were still friends!.. Right?
That thought was the only reason he was still with Glitchy and Beer Keg at all. That lingering thought, that tiny crumb of doubt, was the only reason.
The possibility of the only person who truly cares for him hating him makes him want to cry.
He was going to cry.
But he couldn't cry, not with all these people surrounding him.
He wasn't allowed to. Not here.
He smacked himself to keep the tears from rolling down. He shouldn't cry here. He shouldn't be crying. This shouldn't be happening. He turned away from Glitchy and Beer Keg, who were still talking. Still distracted from Pound. Now was his chance.
Pound sprinted to the bathroom as fast as he could; his room was locked and too far away. He couldn't afford that time. He headed straight for the nearest stall and slammed the door, back to it as he fell to the ground.
Good. Now it was safe to bawl his eyes out.
Pound's mind swirled with utter grief, as the little voice in his head taunted him further.
He won't miss you when you're gone.
A tear rolling down his cheek.
He's probably forgotten you exist already.
Another one.
And another one.
The ground was hard and cold and his body felt numb. His breath was shallow, his heart beating into his ribs.
It felt like days, sobbing in that stall.
But not even an hour had gone by yet.