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“Looord Exo! Now that you’re back, I have a marvelous performance that you’ll love!” Narrator says excitedly, Lefty and Righty flexing their fingers behind him as he speaks. He’s visibly excited about both Exo and his Final Act in plan, and perhaps a little too much so. Then again, who wouldn’t be when the one magnificent man he’s been trying to free for so long is now standing before him? He hasn’t seen Lord Exo since the Old World, in fact, before he was imprisoned in the God Cube. “It’s been so long! May I–”
“Do as you please. You have performed your role.” Exo interrupts. He does not turn to face Narrator, acknowledging him only with words. Exo’s back is turned to Narrator, who looks up at the back of his head as if he’ll soon turn around. He won’t. “Now I have no further use for a comedian.”
Instinctively, Narrator’s lips part to correct Exo, remind him that he is not a comedian, but a director. A performer. An artist.
Nothing comes out.
Narrator swallows nervously, smile faltering. “I-Uh… hah-ahh. I’m uh- I’m not needed,” he realizes out loud instead of correcting Exo, eyes darting away as he blinks furiously as if his Lord can see him. As if his Lord cares. “Right! Okay. I’ll just… go, then. Thank you, sir…” Narrator sniffles as he finishes, hands clutched tightly to his chest. Lord Exo scoffs at that, at Narrator’s pathetic attempt to maintain his dignity, but does not turn back to entertain Narrator any longer.
Exo leaves with not another word, abandoning Narrator, who takes a deep breath before turning away, Lefty and Righty following close behind as he floats off and retreats to the edge of the Outer Nil Zone. Lefty and Righty poke and nudge at him as he sulks, attempting to figure out what’s clearly wrong with Narrator. Narrator grumbles and shoves them off, not even fully knowing what’s wrong himself.
Narrator flops down on a purple, glitchy mountain ledge, and Lefty and Righty each choose one of Narrator’s legs to rest on (unsurprisingly, Lefty chooses Narrator’s left, while Righty chooses his right), Lefty’s thumb gently rubbing the inside of his thigh as an attempt to soothe him. He’s twitchy, fidgety, restless, how he usually is, but it’s different this time. This is a different type of emotion that Narrator isn’t familiar with. It’s quite unsettling, actually, and Narrator… doesn’t know what to do about it.
Doesn’t know why his heart feels so broken at Exo’s rejection.
It’s not like Narrator loves him. No. It’s just… he’s been by his side for so long, been his #1 for so long, it’s normal to feel this hurt, right? Like his chest is collapsing in on itself?
It doesn’t matter. Surely Exo will be at his show- he’s putting it on all for him, it's Narrator's Final Act! He can imagine it now: Exo’s beautiful figure atop his rightful throne, eyes on Narrator as he performs, acts, story tells a story allll about Exo!... And his brother, the pest who had imprisoned him in the God Cube, who’s a little less relevant. The point is, the show is for and about Exo. There’s no way he won’t show up, no way he'd miss it!
Narrator takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together, putting on a wobbly smile. It's fine! There's nothing wrong. He's been a loyal servant to Exo for as long as he can remember. Exo wouldn't abandon his most loyal follower and surely, companion, like that.
Exo doesn't show up.
Narrator had fought the T.D.S organization, practically gotten his ass handed to him, in fact, and then Exo had killed them. Killed Lefty and Righty, his only friends. Killed the only companions, only beings - if they could even be called that - who cared about him. The T.D.S didn't stay long after that, seeing as Narrator had fallen to his knees (and feeling quite awkward at the sight of the performer so distressed), cradling Lefty and Righty close to his chest. They're not dead. Narrator can easily revive them with a simple flick of his wand. It's just the realization of it that hurts.
The realization that Exo really doesn't need him anymore. Doesn't want him anymore, discarding Narrator like a used tissue.
A normal person wouldn't care, Narrator realizes. No 'normal' person would put on an entire show for one man, would practically dedicate their existence to one man, be blindly devoted to one man for the many, many years he's been alive. His breath hitches, and Narrator laughs humorlessly, weakly, as he tightens his grip on Lefty and Righty.
He's in love with Exo, isn't he?
All these years- no, it's not because he's-
Narrator's weak smile falters, laugh trailing off into soft, panting breaths, bottom lip trembling as tears well in his frustrated eyes. All this time, he's loved his Lord. Exo's not an idiot like Narrator, so surely he's seen what Narrator hasn't. Narrator feels like a moron. Falling for someone who would never love him, who had no intention of loving him in the first place.
No, why would Exo keep Narrator around that long, then? Narrator can be an inconvenience at times, stirring up drama and loud and noisy and sometimes annoying, and Exo surely would've gotten rid of him earlier due to such, unless he...
Narrator laughs again, through tears this time. He can't help but smile, even as he hiccups and sobs into Lefty and Righty's smaller, unmoving forms, intertwining his fingers with Lefty's. He can't help but feel like this is his fault for not seeing that Exo didn't need him sooner. It probably would've been better for the both of them if Narrator had taken his leave as Exo so clearly had wished, right? Exo didn't need him anymore, and he wonders if Exo ever needed him at all, or if he was just Exo's comedic relief like he had said. A comedian.