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From the corner of his eye, Doggie can see Zoink in his seat playing grief. Samme’s beside him, hyping him up, voice so loud that it echoes through the room. But doggie isn't focused on that, his vision fixated on Zoink instead.
It’s like he’s underwater; the sounds around him indistinct and his vision’s going blurry. The only things his brain can comprehend are the sounds of keyboard keys clacking in the familiar rhythm that's engraved in his brain and Zoink. Zoink who is basically a geometry dash prodigy, playing his level, Grief.
Doggie’s seen the tweets. He knows people suspect that if Zoink was the verifier instead of him, he would've verified the level months ago. He's well aware of Zoink’s out of this world skills.
That doesn't stop him from feeling a little insecure.
He walks over to where Samme and Zoink are, fake knife in hand, planning to jokingly threaten Zoink to hop off the game.
“Get off Grief, bro.” he says, placing the knife on the nape of Zoink’s neck. He hears him shriek under the clashing sounds of Samme and npesta yelling at him.
“Wait Doggie-” Zoink pleads, but Doggie ignores him and struggles to lift Zoink off the seat.
The death audio plays and the guys joke, but Zoink doesn't move. He's glued to his seat, staring at something on the screen. Doggie stops what he's doing and looks at Zoink, when he notices Samme’s mouth wide open and the camera pointed at the monitor. ‘What?’ he almost asks, but his smile drops when he looks at the screen.
Zoink got a new personal highscore on Grief, 58 percent. Halfway through the level. Zoink has barely spent time playing grief and he's halfway through it. Doggie’s jaw drops, and the world around him goes silent. He forces himself to smile, as if pleased with what he's seeing. But in reality? He's hurt. Just looking at the screen makes his heart ache, the feeling akin to being stabbed in the heart hundreds of times. He looks up at Zoink and he's screaming and running around the room like a lunatic. (Doggie was in such a great state of shock that he hadn't realized that Zoink had gotten up.)
Doggie’s happy for him, really. But envy and hurt are forcing themselves into his head and he's trying his best not to make it obvious because he doesn't want Zoink and the others to feel bad for him.
The screaming gets louder as the guys celebrate a donation from chat with the message ‘yo zoink might actually verify Grief quicker than doggie.'
Well, that hurt.
He excuses himself when it gets too loud for him—he can already feel a headache forming at his temples—locks himself in a room, and throws his body on the bed.
He lays there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about Zoink and his new score. How much better he is than him. Wonders if what that donation said was true. Would Zoink actually beat the level quicker than him? Would he even be able to get a higher percentage next time? If he did it once, he could do it again.
Two years have passed since the whole Grief journey. Two years of building the muscle memory to remember the correct rhythm and clicks. Two years of playing almost everyday and getting frame perfects over and over. Two years of getting hate messages from people who don't believe he can actually verify it, people telling him how bad he is, people telling him to kill himself.
Honesty—he’s thought about it. There are better players than him; Zoink’s one of them. Anyone else can verify the level and other levels yet to come. His disappearance won't make much of a difference except for an empty spot in TCD.
He raises his palm and inspects it, looks at the bright red painted on the tip of his pointer finger—worn down and swollen from playing—and thinks about how dark the color is. His mind wanders to the fake knife, and how dark the color of the blood that would seep from his wrists would be when he uses a real knife. There’s no place in the geometry dash community for him, he's just the person that's taking years to verify a level— because who is he without Grief? To Doggie, a world without Grief is a lonely one. One where he’s left alone with no purpose or objective.
He closes his eyes and only then does he notice the warm feeling of tears, slowly making their way to his temple just to disappear into his hair, as if trying to conceal the proof of his desolation. He doesn't bother himself to wipe them off, doesn't make a sound as he cries. Just lays there on his back and wallows in his own sorrow and silence.
^^^
Samme’s halfway through beating an extreme demon when Zoink notices something wrong, there haven't been signs of Doggie anywhere. He looks around the room— npesta is in the kitchen doing whatever, Conix and the others are sitting on the couch, and Samme and Trick are right next to him.
“Wait Conix, can you take over for a sec?” Zoink doesn't give him a second to protest and shoves the camera to his chest. If Doggie wasn't in the living room where everyone is, he's probably in the bathroom or in one of the rooms. He makes his way to the hallway that connects all the rooms together and excuses himself to the rest of the guys.
He's about to knock on the bathroom door when he hears something coming from one of the bedrooms. For a moment, he's afraid it might be a mouse or a squirrel that made its way inside the bedroom—But he hears a soft thud that is too big to be a squirrel, so he calms his nerves and walks towards the room.
He stands in front of the door and hesitates, but reluctantly knocks three firm knocks on the door. He's about to knock again when he hears the faint come in from Doggie and sighs.
When he opens the door, he's greeted with the sight of Doggie laying on his stomach, face buried in the collection of giant pillows on the bed.
“Why aren't you out there with us?” Zoink asks, sitting on the bed beside Doggie. “Samme’s about to beat troll level, or so he says. I believe he’ll die on like, 31 perce-”
He stops talking when he realizes Doggie has turned to face him. What Zoink sees crushes his heart. Doggie’s eyes are red and glossy, like he's about to start crying— like he's been crying.
“What the fuck, Doggie, are you okay?” Zoink says, sitting up straight. He turns his body towards Doggie, eyes widening with concern.
But Doggie doesn't answer, he just stares at Zoink with sad eyes, motionless—Until his body starts to shake and tears are spilling from his eyes. He immediately buries his face back into the pillows and Zoink doesn't know what to do other than stare, the feelings of somber and confusion crowd his thoughts as he tries to think of what could've caused Doggie to act like this.
A mumble from beside him startles him and he looks down at Doggie.
“Uhh.. repeat that?”
“Im sorry.”
Doggie looks back up at Zoink—the whites of his eyes bloodier than before—and wipes some fallen tears. Zoink has never felt his level of confusion before. Why is Doggie apologizing exactly? And, yet again, what’s making him cry?
“What are you sorry for? You've done nothing wrong.”
“It’s-” doggie pauses, like he's trying to make sense of his thoughts. “It’s nothing, I’ll be out in a sec-”
“No dude,” there's a slight poison in Zoink’s voice that he doesn't mean to spit, “whats wrong?”
“It's nothing, really.” Doggie uses his elbows to push himself up. Zoink can see the dark tearstains on the porcelain white pillows.
“Well if I did something then I'm sorry.” Zoink tries. He knows he's using the oldest trick in the book—emotional manipulation—but at this point he is desperate and he doesn't plan on letting Doggies whole ‘keeping his feelings to himself’ schtick go on for longer.
“No it’s- well…” doggie takes a deep breath in, which makes Zoink pause his.
Well? Well what? Did Zoink do something to Doggie? He doesn't remember hurting him, it was quite literally the opposite. Doggie was the one threatening Zoink with a knife (a fake one, but it doesn't matter to him) for the shits and giggles. And to add on top of that, if Doggie hadn't tried attempted murder on him, he would've gotten a higher percentage on Grief. He was half way through the level just to die to a stupid pran-
Wait.
Oh fuck.
Zoinks face falls when it hits him.
“I didn't think I would get a good run on Grief,” he argues. “I was just playing mindlessly, I wasn't even focused on the percentage until I died, you know that.”
“I do know that.” Doggie sits up to face Zoink, irritation prominent on his face. “But its- it doesn't help that it was live streamed to thousands of people. Some of them probably already doubt my ability to beat Grief, imagine what they think now." He avoids eye contact, instead his eyes shift frantically, like he's trying to look at everything but the man in front of him.
“Doggie, its not like that-”
“It is like that!” he yells. Zoink can only hope the others outside can't hear the commotion.
“It is like that when your ‘fans’,” he air quotes, “don't believe you've got it in you.”
He's crying again. Tears are spilling from Doggie’s eyes and Zoink watches as he tries his best to wipe them off but they keep on coming, a never ending stream of anguish, and the anger continues.
“I'm not clip farming, or purposefully dying, or drawing out the verification. Yet some people don't believe that… and I try to ignore them the best I can, I really do…” Doggie’s full-on sobbing at this point. His face is red and wet with tears and Zoink just wants to wipe his cheeks dry but he chooses to sit and listen patiently, “It just– feels really degrading sometimes- no, all the fucking time. If they don't want to listen to me, if they want to- to keep on sending hate comments and death threats and telling me to fucking end it all then… then…”
He looks at Zoink with those sad, puppy eyes and Zoink breaks. He gets closer to Doggie and pulls him into a hug that he desperately accepts and starts violently crying on his shoulder. Zoink can feel the wetness of tears and snot spreading on his shoulder but he doesn't care, he can change his shirt later. Right now his top priority is calming Doggie down. Doggie—who is sobbing and hyperventilating so hard Zoink’s worried he might pass out right there— is holding his shirt so tight it might rip.
So Zoink hugs Doggie back, he hugs him as tight as he can and he waits until the bawls turn to soft whimpers, and even then he doesn't let go. He only partially does when Doggie lifts his head a few moments later to look at him.
“Fuck, sorry.” Doggie lets out a quiet giggle and lowers his head, to which Zoink palms Doggie’s cheek with one hand and lifts it gently back up.
“Actually.. I'm the one that should be sorry,” Doggie almost protests but Zoink hushes him softly, “I shouldn't have played Grief on stream—I shouldn't have played it at all, period. It’s your level to verify, i had no right to try playing it again.”
“And I'm sorry about… the hate comments. You seriously dont deserve them. No one does.” It hurts. It hurts just thinking about it and how Doggie had to suffer for years and try his best to ignore rude comments from people who call themselves his ‘fans’. “It doesn't matter what they think, Doggie. You're worth more than what these comments say, way more. I'll do anything to make you believe that.” He wonders how Doggie coped with the pain of knowing there are people that despise him and genuinely want him to die—all for what? A fucking game? Something so meaningless, so minute, is worth a person's life now? Zoink tries to keep his rage in. It comes out in tears that threaten to spill.
He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Doggie giggle.
“Now I got us both crying.” he’s smiling, wiping his tears and leaning his head on Zoink's hand—Zoink has been caressing Doggie's cheek with his thumb absentmindedly. He doesn't stop when he notices—and looks at Zoink, eyes glassy and glistening under the room's soft light.
“Thank you, really.”
“I love you.”
Zoink's eyes widen as he comprehends what he's said. He didn't mean to say it outloud, he didn't mean to say it at all. He's already mumbling an apology when Doggie's lips crash onto his.
Doggies lips are soft and smooth, Zoink can taste the cotton candy flavoured chapstick he’d once bullied Doggie for owning. He remembers mocking him and calling him weird. ‘What? I like sweet things’, Doggie had once said. As their lips slowly disconnect, Zoink licks his lips where the chapstick left a waxy layer, a memoir of a kiss left on his lips. Doggie’s looking at him, smiling and showing off those pearly whites that make Zoink’s heart flutter and his stomach fill with butterflies.
For a while they sit in silence. Staring at one another and smiling like morons when Zoink bursts with uncontrollable laughter—Doggie sequentially after. Their giggling echoes through the tiny bedroom. There's no reason to laugh, not entirely. Yet they remain— just the two of them, legs entangled and souls intertwined, engulfed in the high of devotion.
They're interrupted with Samme's voice calling out for both men. They stare at each other, panic flashing on both of their faces. They figure it's time to leave the room and reunite with the rest of the guys before they get suspicious. Doggie’s up and walking to the door when Zoink grabs his arm.
“Listen,” he starts, “I… care about you,” Zoink mumbles, face heating up. “A lot. So If there's anything-”
He gets interrupted by Doggie giving him a peck on his cheek. “I know… I’ll try.”
When they're out of the room, Conix complains that they were gone for too long, but they laugh it out. Zoink is glad Conix doesn't try digging deeper and ask what they were doing for so long. He notices Doggie stops moving, eyes locked onto the monitor in front of him. He knows that things won't get better for him just because Zoink gave him a few words of wisdom, but whatever he can do to help Doggie, he’ll do it.
He stands next to Doggie and holds his hand, making sure no one notices, and rubs Doggie's knuckles with his thumb. Doggie immediately gives him a melancholy smile at the gesture which wrecks Zoink’s heart. He wishes to never see that smile again, instead only genuine and bright ones that Zoink loves so much.
From that point on, Zoink makes a promise to himself. Whatever Doggie’s going through, he will never let him go through it alone, not without Zoink by his side.
Whatever it takes…