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Every day is the same thing.
Wake up, scroll on his phone, eat random things in his pantry, go to sleep, repeat.
Day after day.
Boring, repetitive, useless.
He feels useless.
Nene has a good paying job, Tsukasa has the perfect family, even Emu was getting her adult life started at the park.
They were all getting somewhere. He wasn't.
Sure, he knows that sometimes people just have a hard time finding things to do or making use of their time, but he hated it.
He needed to do something. But at the same time... he's scared.
He doesn't know how jobs work, he gets uncomfortable doing new things, he complains over the simplest things, he's pushing everything away the more he needs it.
He doesn't want a job, but he does. He wants to feel useful and help out his family with payments and shopping, but he's lazy, unhelpful, greedy.
He's greedy, and he knows it.
He likes the freedom, but hates feeling free.
Nothing truly excites him anymore, but he's scared of doing something new to reignite that spark. What if it goes wrong? What if he ends up hating the one thing that he enjoys?
Why can't he just be like everyone else?
Why does he have to be so damn lazy? Why can't he just force himself to get a job like everyone else he knows? Suck it up and deal with the rules and routine.
Just like everyone else.
But he's not lazy. He tries, he really does.
He thinks he does anyway.
Does he?
He tries so hard just to get through the day.
But... does he really? Maybe he's just forcing these thoughts on himself. He's not really going through anything, he really is just lazy.
He just doesn't want to do anything. He wants to live stress free. No work, no school, just him.
He knows it's impossible, people can't live on their own without a job where he lives. Even with a job, it's a struggle to get by.
Nothing makes sense to him anymore.
Do people even really care about him? They say they do, but he's been through this too many times to listen.
He can't trust anyone fully anymore.
Even if his friends swear up and down that they love him, in the back of his mind there's a quiet voice hammering away at those words, chipping them away until he no longer believes them.
'They're just saying that to be nice.'
'They hate you.'
'They talk badly about you when you're not around.'
'They're just like everyone else. They don't actually like you.'
'Just give it a few days, you'll see. They'll switch on you— leave you behind.'
'Just like everyone else.'
Maybe he's just being dramatic.
No, he is. He knows he is.
He just wants attention.
He wants all of it, but none of it at the same time.
Sometimes he wonders that if he got 'hurt', who would really care? He's thought of doing things to himself 'just to see what happens.'
But he's too scared to go through with it. He's got no reason to kill himself, or even hurt himself for that matter. Hell, he even lied about it once just to get someone to listen to him— to hear him for once.
He's just an attention whore.
He talks nonstop around new people, info dumping about his interests and whatever he can think of just to keep them interested in him.
But he's annoying.
Once the conversation ends, he knows those he was talking to go on to complain to someone else.
'He talks too much.'
'I wasn't even paying attention, really.'
'He's annoying.'
'I don't want to know his life story, we just met.'
He's done it again.
They don't care. They never did, but he spoke anyway.
It's not like he does it on purpose.
At least, he doesn't think he does.
He's become paranoid.
'I don't mind your rambling.'
Lies.
'I think you're fun to be around.'
Lies.
'I don't find you annoying.'
Lies.
Everything is a lie.
Nobody truly means what they say to him.
Maybe they do.
He doesn't believe them.
He pushes everyone away eventually. He doesn't deserve them, no matter how much they say he does.
'Hey... you've gotten kinda distant. What's up?'
Nothing.
'Did I do something wrong?'
No.
'Why won't you talk to me?'
They'll get annoyed. His problems aren't serious enough to worry about.
He's being dramatic. He always is.
'Let's hang out!'
Sure! He'll regret it after, though.
He loves his friends. He really does. He wouldn't trade them for the world.
But would they do the same?
They have other friends, lovers... He'll always be the last choice.
Just like in physical education back in elementary school.
The last choice.
The one that gets put into the group that simply needs a final member because everyone else was picked.
The choice that nobody wanted.
The choice that gets groans and complaints when put into a group.
It wasn't his fault.
He didn't choose to be like this. He doesn't even know what 'this' is!
Nothing makes sense.
Building his robots and crazy inventions have lost their meaning. He feels as if he does it because it's the only thing he knows.
It's not like he's great at it or anything.
He has many small things that he is okay at doing.
Writing? Decent.
Art? Meh.
Building? Acceptable.
He has nothing he's great at— nothing that stands out above the rest.
Tsukasa shines brighter than every actor he's ever met.
Nene and her voice reach thousands of lost singers, inspiring them further than they ever thought.
Emu finds the joy in every situation, making millions of people happy with her shows.
But Rui... he's got nothing.
Sure, he can make a robot. Cool, so did that second grader for a school project.
He can direct a show. So can hundreds of other people, and their shows actually get noticed.
He's not special.
Hes got hundreds of ideas flowing in his brain, but no way of making them a reality. Nothing that will catch people's attention.
Nothing important.
'It's not fair.' He tells himself.
'I should just be happy with what I have. I should be greatful that I have a home, a bed to sleep on, food to eat.'
And he is. He knows he has it better than some people, but why isn't he happy with how he's using that privilege?
Is he doing something wrong? Is he taking advantage of it without knowing?
Is he... using them?
No, he's not.
Right?
He can't be... that wouldn't make any sense.
He's not that kind of person... right?
Maybe he is.
Maybe he's been tearing everyone down this entire time.
Every conversation, every hour of work he's put into helping out his local theater, every time he's helped his friends get out of their own heads...
It was for nothing.
None of them actually cared, did they?
They thought he was just being a burden. He wasn't actually being helpful.
They just said thank you because they had to.
He hates this.
He hates thinking like this.
He knows none of it is true— he wants to believe that.
He wants to be satisfied with himself. He wants to just accept the love he's given without forcing himself to think it's fake.
But he can't.
He just can't.
It's happened before and it'll happen again, surely.
That's how things work.
They go around and around until they find him again and tear him apart.
He's doing it to himself.
He knows that.
The only person preventing him from moving forward is himself.
He knows that.
But what can he do?
He never asked for this. It's not like he chose to become afraid of basic human connection.
Who would want that? He wouldn't even wish it on his worst enemy.
He just wants to live life normally, enjoying what he does.
He wants to be able to work and create bonds with those around him.
He wants to be able to do so much as eat food without panicking about if maybe someone else wanted it, that now they'll hate him for eating it.
All he wants... is to be normal. To be loved and actually believe it.
Just like everyone else.