Chapter Text
"Freppa is such a fucking wimp."
"Freppa can barely play with those sausage fingers of his."
"Freppa can't even do a solo properly, damnit."
"Freppa's at fault for ruining everything, how typical."
...
Sigh.
I've been friends with Tommy and Määnin for a very long time. I remember our first meeting like it was yesterday: I was being mocked by a few other kids when the two stepped in and beat them up. Since then, they were the only friends I remember having. After we formed our band and started releasing music, we became even closer. We have a lot going for us right now, and I wouldn't trade what I have for anything in the world.
Still, I sometimes wonder whether they feel the same way. I may be reaching a bit far, but the two of them seem to eagerly seize every opportunity to put me down, especially Tommy. Sure, they complimented me that one time I sang about our Vörå during our Vörodagan livestream, but I don't remember the last time they said something nice about me. And god forbid I speak my mind because I'll earn myself even more vitriol.
I want to believe they aren't making fun of me. I want to believe that every comment they make, every remark they throw is all in good fun. They did say so in one of our interviews, though I don't know why Tommy stubbornly didn't let me answer whether I thought they were actually joking. But if they say it's a joke, it has to be, right? It has to be. It's grown into being a part of our dynamic after such a long time, I should be used to it...
And yet, it hurts. It hurts so much. Looking back and replaying our conversations, I can't help but feel humiliated at the blatant disrespect. They don't have an ounce of shame, and it pisses me off. I'm starting to run out of patience with them. But what am I going to do? I'm the weak, quiet, passive member of the group, the responsible one who never gets angry. Nobody would take my frustration seriously, so there's no point in me arguing back.
...
No, what am I saying? I'm supposed to be mature about it. I know they wouldn't do something like that. They protected me on numerous occasions when I was afraid to do so myself. They look out for me, and here I am looking past that and being angry at some jokes. Why do I let myself be so affected by it when I shouldn't be? It's all in good fun. Be more considerate, Fredrik. Just play along.
Play along... Alright. I guess I'll play along...
Who cares what I think, anyway?