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Orson was tired, he didn't know why, he just was, like usual.
There were times where he didn't feel tired, brief as they were, though, looking back, the memories didn't really feel like they were his.
In fact, pretty much all of his childhood from around 7 or 8 until around 12 didn't feel like it was actually him living out his life.
But that was fine, it was probably just some mild dissociation, just like when the world just… stopped feeling like it was real.
“Ozzy, are you okay?” His face went slightly red at his totally-not-a-crush’s previously unnoticed closeness.
‘Now, isn't that just pathetic?’ Of course The Voice™ had something to say about it.
“Yeah, I’m—uh—fine.”
‘I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m—’
‘You’re so pathetic, do you even realise that won’t make me go away?’
‘Am I not allowed to hope now?’
‘Let’s make a deal, I’ll stay quiet under a single condition. When you get home, you’re going to grab a razor—’
Orson didn't need to hear anymore before agreeing, he was probably going to do so anyways, even if he was trying to do better on that front. He could do that.
Sometime on his way home, the world stopped feeling real, and, just for fun, he decided to ask himself who he was and for some reason, the immediate answer wasn't Orson like it’d normally be. No, he was Gerald.
That made the fuzziness go away, but the next time he checked, he was still Gerald, something that went away upon getting home and his name was somehow back to being Orson.
Despite what he tried, Orson couldn't ignore that moment, it felt like the beginning of something, as if he’d found the key to a puzzle, and so, he tried to re-enact the moment to some degree via meditation, without the whole world feeling less real thing, of course.
And somehow, he managed to succeed, if only for a moment because as soon as one of his moms called him downstairs, his name was back to being Orson.
But, what did this mean?
Months passed, and Orson kind of just… forgot about it.
He did a bit of research and decided he probably wasn't plural, he just couldn't be.
That was until months later when for some reason his brain kept drifting to plurality, and just to be sure that wasn't it, he decided to keep a document with information of himself and this potential ‘Gerald’.
He’d figure it out, one step at a time.
