Take A Walk With Me (One-Shots and More)

Everything You Ever

FlamingRavenclaw
Have fun, friendo.

And all of you.

Warning: There's a chance you will never see YouTube the same

---

It was years ago. It was a time before stress and breaking points and aches.

Two figures hunched around a computer screen. One clutched gently onto a Coke can. The other messed with the mouse as the camera caught every soft-spoken word.

"Do you think we'll make it?"

As if he was contemplating, he peered into the camera. His friend was blocked from his vision, though not his mind. Sure - they weren't the only ones working on this experiment. There were two others, but neither of them stole the spotlight the same way.

Arrogant yet anxious, the taller took a swig of his drink. Light eyes flashed to glance at his companion.

"Yeah."

---

Mitch's fist met the table, his knuckles white. A contorted face revealed a stake through the heart. Oh, they made it - he knew that. They just didn't know what they were getting into.

In a way, it started with Adam way back in the day. An invitation to the soon-to-be disaster Team Crafted sounded like a good idea. Under Jerome's watchful eye, they thought nothing could go wrong. They accepted gratefully.

Now, Mitch supposed the term "young and dumb" existed for a reason.

Ultimately, the group ended in flames. They were all stupid and reckless - even Ian, who had been older than any of them were currently, had agreed to some things. However, it was mostly the younger five. They took the world by storm. It was glory, glee, and greed. The latter was the part that ended up destroying them; there was always an ache for more. When one fell behind, the rest exploded, and a hole was torn in what had already been shaky patchwork.

After going separate ways from the others, Jerome and Mitch had time to think about what had gone wrong. They had thought it was simply because Adam was a raging bitch. It now seemed as if something more malicious was hidden underneath. Still, that was their story, and they had stuck to it.

A few Twitter wars later, Mitch was officially done with Adam. Jerome was content with this and followed him loyally. Reflecting, Mitch had to wonder if this was the best course of action.

That was how it went, though, and the two banded together with a few old friends and a few new ones and created the Pack. This new group shot off the ground and carried everyone's career with it. Old habits of greed silently sparked, but no one said anything. No one ever said anything. Mistakes and missteps were glossed over, ignored. Tensions rose.

Eventually, they broke too - but the decision was kept silent. The fans begging to know what happened meant publicity, and as they say, any publicity is good publicity.

Things weren't great, but they got done. Issues started to truly arise when what little joy that was left in creating vanished. YouTube brought down the ban hammer, and any personality Mitch put into his videos was shot down. Over the years, he had become more and more robotic. Actions simply repeated, devoid of any kind of passion. Even Jerome faltered.

Jerome. It hadn't seemed like long since he finally left. What energy he did put in his videos was fake, Mitch knew, but it worked. He was dead weight. Now Jerome was the rising star, and Mitch barely grasped onto what subscribers he had. Activity seeped to a low...

But Jerome kept going. He kept smiling, kept acting as if everything was just peachy. Mitch had no idea how he did it. Everything had gone to hell. There was no joy in it. Every video was cookie-cut and bland, yet Jerome managed to make things just spicy enough to keep an audience wanting more.

Arrogance had finally gotten to him. The two had swapped. Mitch - he was supposed to be the cocky one. He was supposed to be the leader. Jerome was the sidekick, the comic relief. When they started, that's all he was. There was no need for him to be independent. He was content to ride Mitch's coattails and go crying to him at night when he needed an extra five bucks.

Mitch was the genius. Jerome was the dumb follower. When had that gotten away from them? Why had it changed? He was still the smarter one. He should still be in charge. No, Jerome didn't deserve his own company, his own people.

He used me as a stepladder.

With a tightening of his throat, Mitch jerked his head up. Once upon a time, he had been willing to take a bullet for Jerome. Unfortunately, it was Jerome who shot him.

His stomach twisted. All of a sudden, he felt violently ill. Couldn't he delay H4M? His fans could wait another thirty minutes. Shaking, he typed out a Tweet saying he needed an extra half hour to prepare. There would be backlash, but he needed this.

The offices were strangely silent. Usually Jerome's shrieking filled them, but he was in California. Every last tie he had with Mitch...

I'm gonna be sick.

Since the beginning, Mitch had thought himself the hero. He was the protagonist of his own story in which nearly everyone else was the villain. It had been him to clear the way - the few companions he had followed his every step. They basked in the glory they received from being his friend, and that was alright, as long as they played their part.

As long as they played along.

That was how YouTube worked. You had a small handful of stars in one genre who were surrounded by friends - and those friends were stuck in their orbit by contracts. Jerome had been one of the few who wasn't like that. For so long, Mitch assumed it was because they had been friends before.

No, Mitch had played right into Jerome's trap. All those years... He was just waiting, baiting, gauging. From the sidelines, he watched his fanbase grow. Then, when the timing was right, he left. He sliced Mitch's fanbase into ribbons then claimed everything he had was his.

Shuddering, Mitch darted into the bathroom. With shaking fingers, he locked the door. His back leaned against the wall. What was real? What had been part of a façade? Had Jerome ever liked him?

He had no reason to. Some kind of regretful horror slid over Mitch as he realized. Through all those years, he had treated Jerome like shit. There was nothing to like but faint memories of a tainted childhood. Instead of treating him like an actual friend, Mitch had just milked him for the fame. What hero didn't have a sidekick? Besides Adam, of course, who discarded and traded for a newer model every six months.

But now he had nothing. Jerome had gotten tired of his shit and brought every friend Mitch thought he had with him. Now that he was thinking about it, Mitch had never made those friends... It was always Jerome.

Always.

How long had he really been waiting? Mitch's stomach twisted again, sending a wave of nausea through him. This time, he really did retch.

What had he done?

The two had made it, sure...

But at what cost?

And who really came out on top?