Anonymous Thu 26 Sep 2024 23:07:49 No.69493925 Report

>>69493881
Nu Nick reacting to the dox scene

Anonymous Thu 26 Sep 2024 23:21:23 No.69494228 Report

>>69493925

>The room goes deathly silent. It's a strange and instant turn. I glance up from my little notebook, several paragraphs deep into my descriptions of the band's aesthetic choices. I take the pause to stretch and bit and check to see what sort of strange slide has got the student body worked up.
>I almost drop my pencil. Staring right back at me is a photo on Anon, photoshopped standing next to some cartoon woman. Arm up and around her, floating. I have to blink a few times to see if I'm not just hallucinating this all.
>The laughter confirms that I'm still sane, at least in this regards. I start to sink back a bit, in thought. I hear the slide move as I look down, more laughter. I'm almost disgusted with myself as one of the first thoughts to cross my mind is how this will affect the band.
>Symptom of focusing everything on this little doc I'm writing, I'm sure. I look up to see Anon already making his way out of the auditorium. A few more slides go by before we're back to normal. Or as normal a crowd can be now that they've smelled blood. I look back at my notebook and find my drive for writing is done for now. A tinge of worry hits me.
>He's my friend, I think. At least we're on friendly terms. Acquaintances?
>The word doesn't matter. I find myself standing and leaving, pushing through several students joining in on the laughter. A familiar sight. Almost like history repeating itself. How cruel.
>I finally push out of the auditorium and stand in the hallway, mostly empty. I consider where to find Anon but find the thought that he might have just gone home. Not like it's my place to intervene anyway. I sigh and move to the front.
>As I step into the sunlight and find a spot to sit and think I start to worry. All this work I'd put in might just peter out. Might become nothing.
>I tell myself it'll be fine. Anon having a horrible experience won't end the band....unless...?
>A disgusting lump of thought sits itself on my frontal lobe. 'Who?'
cont.

Anonymous Thu 26 Sep 2024 23:31:13 No.69494426 Report

Quoted By: >>69494640

>>69494228

>Who orchestrated this? The primary target flashes up. Purple and seething with rage.
>If...if it was. If it was her then... it's over. That's the end of this, all of it.
>My work, their friendgroup, my hope for anything that's not being a decoration on the wallpaper. My hands shake as I ring them. No it has to be somebody else. Maybe Chad?
>How would he get to the presentation, though? Reed was the one that had it.
>It becomes undeniable in my head as the pieces fit. She hates him. Would do anything to try and run him off, I've seen it firsthand.
>Even if it meant...this. My hands have found themselves around my face, squeezing. It's really over. All thanks to her.
>I'd laugh if I wasn't so mad I could put my thumbs through her eyes. I've worked so hard on this, so much blood sweat and tears and just like that it's just a collection of worthless paper again. No one will ever care about my passion here. No one will ever see what I've had to do for this, how hard I've worked.
>I want to throw up. I want to run away. I want to not exist.
>The only stopgap for all this pent up envy and frustration is gone. Tears start to wet my eyes as I sit in impotent rage. It's just not fair.
>I wanted my time in the limelight, wanted to be someone. I was so close. Failed right at the finish line.
>Through teary eyes I look down at the notebook and start to find it an object of hatred. I want to trash the thing. Never look at it again. All it's ever done is fail me. Why do I keep bothering?
>I find no answers yet another horrid thought creeps into my head.
>'And here Anon is having the worst day of his life and you're making it all about you.'
>I pull my knees up to my chest as I feel the tears flowing more heavily. I don't want to be this jealous little ball of hate. That's not me...
>I can only see one path out of this. I peer down again at the notebook sitting beside me. No more. I can't fight fate. I pick the thing up and start to stand, wiping my face as I do
cont

Anonymous Thu 26 Sep 2024 23:40:37 No.69494640 Report

Quoted By: >>69494938

>>69494426

>I'm startled as the front opens. I quickly scramble away, refusing to let anyone see me like this. Down the stairs I go to a small bench at the bottom. I check a glance up to see a gaggle of students milling about outside, chuckling and laughing.
>I start to think of Trent and Curtis and how they'd react to me being like this. Just gentle prop-ups and assurances that it'll be okay. Nothing I deserve nor need. I wipe my face once more and find a garbage can not but a few steps aside. I'll feel better once this stupid thing is gone.
>I grab the spackled white-and-black composition notebook and squeeze my claws into it. Months of my life packed inside. About to be refuse.
>I hesitate. It's so hard to let this go. Memories of the work I'd put in hit. All stress and work just...wasted. I hear something behind me, a call.
>"THINK FAST!"
>I whip my head up and clutch the notebook to my chest as I spy the actual targets of the yell.
>Anon stumbles back from the recoil of a half-full can of soda. His foot misses ground.
>I watch in terror as he tumbles down, landing splat next to me against the barriers at the bottom of the staircase. A loud ringing thud.
>He doesn't move for a second and I consider that I may have just watched a man die. Thankfully he lets loose a groan as he goes limp.
>In a flash Fang's on top of him, getting him up while I sit in shock. Our eyes lock for a second. Their eyes scared and angry but driven. It moves me.
>I stand and move to help them up, getting Anon up and onto the bench. The second we have him standing he almost collapses, his leg giving from under him. I flinch as he stifles a cry of pain.
>We set him down as he leans back, looking up at the sky. Fang speaks to me.
>"Thanks, Nick." I nod and avert my eyes. Fang themself causing a throng of pain in my chest.
>I try to steer the conversation myself, "You taking Anon home?"
>Fang gives a quick vocal confirmation as I stare at the concrete under us.
Cont.

Anonymous Thu 26 Sep 2024 23:51:16 No.69494938 Report

Quoted By: >>69495669

>>69494640

>I come up at a loss for words as I flit the notebook mindlessly in my hands. The second they're gone I'm tossing this. I hear Fang tapping something on their phone. I glance over to see them holding it up to their head as they stand, moving away for a quick conversation.
>I'm a bit startled as Anon speaks to me, "Guess you saw all that, then?"
>I speak quietly. "Yeah. Sorry."
>He sighs and looks down as well, the two of us just sitting staring down at our feet. He speaks again, breaking the silence while Fang paces nearby.
>"You make any more progress on that?" I find him pointing at my notebook. I consider heavily on what to say back. Before I can find the words to tell him it's fallen apart he follows up.
>"Can't wait to see it."
>It upends my resolve. I sit, mouth partially agape and unable to move as he says that.
>Fang takes their spot again, huffing.
>"Taxi'll be here soon. Hang tight, okay?"
>There's some sort of nod out of my vision. I can feel the movement but my eyes won't leave the floor.
>It's a long and silent wait as we sit. Taxi finally arriving as I can still not move a single inch. Mind still stunned.
>The two rise to get into the taxi, Anon slightly stunned at Fang joining him but accepting. I blink as I notice I've moved my gaze up to them. They return it and give a small wave before closing the door behind them.
>Taxi peels off and I sit, alone again. I look down to the notebook one more time as a strange idea starts to form.
>He really wants to see this? Why? It won't mean anything. Won't be worth anything but...
>Maybe that's okay? It's a melancholic sort of revelation. Everything I've done, put my very soul into is just...worthless. But maybe it's still something enjoyable to someone. To me?
>I slowly brush a hand up and down the cover, the smoothness on my palm. I'll finish it. Broken and worthless it may be. It's still my work. The pain in my heart numbs to a dull throb. Maybe it's still worth something.

Fin

>>69493941
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