Work Text:
Trevor sat on his bed, contemplating. Contemplating nothing but how much he sucks at everything. Usually he’d just shift his internal rage on Ryan, but he had to face it; he was useless and this was all he had. Writing scripts and picking out details nobody else cared about were his only talents. That’s all he had. And the rest of his team, but they’re all so fucking annoying. Ryan is a self absorbed nepo-baby, Jasper is essentially a criminal, Kendrick is a pretentious pushover, and Ash never does shit. None of them do shit, they all think it’s a damn game.
Jesus. This was all he ever did; revel in his negative judgement. Lash out at anyone who rubbed him the wrong way, even outside of the studio. Write until his circadian rhythm couldn’t keep up anymore—and have it all revised by someone who doesn’t care one bit about how he feels, about his life, about his passions, about making an actually good fucking film.
He put his hands over his face to hide his crying.
At least Ryan wasn’t here at the moment. He’s never cried in his presence, the dipshit would probably just laugh at him and relish in his misery. He’d just use that moment as a stepping stool for his own supposed greatness.
He hates crying. It makes his glasses wet, it gets hard to breathe, and he can hardly see. It’s also weak.
What would people think; grown ass man sobbing like an emo fag. His reputation has already been tarnished enough by that brownie incident; he should’ve just worked a shift or take Ash’s side. Anyone’s side but Ryan’s.
Ryan may be an obstacle but so is he. Ryan treats him the way he does because he’s a temperamental, domineering, entitled asshole. He’s just as narcissistic as Ryan. He also thinks he has the upper hand in everything.