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Trophy spent so long putting up a fake front that it wasn’t even fake anymore, It WAS him. Trophy knew he was a shitty person. An asshole, a jackass, all of it. He belittles and bullies others, he hurts people emotionally and physically…! And he hates himself for it.
He knew apologizing wouldn’t change anything. So, he’d just suffer until his body gives up. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually gotten any sleep, or eaten a full meal… and he couldn’t help but constantly think:
”Damnit… I’m such a fucking mess…! No wonder everyone hates my ass! I’m a terrible person! I wouldn’t be surprised if people have noticed all the destructive shit and just left me to suffer. I deserve it! I’m not worth caring about.”
There was only really one thing that ever brought him joy anymore… His hobby in photography. The problem was… he’d picked up an unhealthy obsession. Using his Polaroid camera to take pictures of Knife without his knowledge.
He had an entire photo album dedicated to just those photos of Knife. Trophy could remember the way it feels to take these pictures. It felt so wrong… yet… so right.
The euphoric feeling it gave him as a photo printed from the camera… The giddy feeling he’d get when the photo finished developing…
Trophy had even memorized Knife’s daily routine.
He knew what time he woke up in the morning, the things he usually ate for breakfast, who he spent the most time with during the day, when he went to bed… etc. He had even collected a few things belonging to Knife.
And Knife was none the wiser to Trophy’s obsession with him. He and everyone else still believed Trophy hated Knife’s guts!
Well… he still sorta did? But not really? It was complicated.
The first photo he had ever taken of Knife was the one he took of him with the Dora doll back in season 2… THE picture.
The picture he used to blackmail Knife… telling him that if he obeyed him for the rest of the competition, he wouldn’t show anyone the picture.
But Knife inevitably put his foot down, and refused to listen to Trophy anymore. Knife didn’t care what anyone might think about him, letting Trophy show everyone the photo.
And sure, it got a few laughs… but that was it. They all brushed it off rather quickly. They all brushed HIM off rather quickly.
But even after all that, he had a strange compulsion to… take more photos of Knife.
And not for blackmail this time. That was such a stupid decision…
Just… for him. No one has to know.
I mean… It was just a few photos! One or two wouldn’t hurt…
But what was supposed to be just ‘a few photos’ quickly grew out of hand. He just… couldn’t stop taking them!
Especially now that his mental health had gotten increasingly bad as of late, with photography being the only hobby that made him feel any better.
And the photos themselves? They were… surprisingly normal. Just Knife doing his regular everyday things. Such as eating, talking with Suitcase, playing video games with Pickle, sitting on the couch in the lobby, etc.
Trophy always tried to keep anyone else out of the pictures. He only wanted to capture Knife in the photos, after all.
But as of late, the photos were getting a little… repetitive. They were all of Knife just doing the same things over and over again.
And so he started to get a little bolder, beginning to even sneak into Knife’s room to take a picture of him sleeping. Maybe even dig through his stuff and take a small thing or two.
He followed Knife practically everywhere. He watched him from afar, from around corners, from behind trees… anywhere he could without being seen or looking suspicious.
He knew Knife hated his guts just as much as the next person, but that didn’t stop his obsession.