A/N: Me being fake deep, a short little ramble of my brain, all for fun, enjoy if you can, this shit gets depressing, but has a fun ending, possibly posting more if I feel like it.
Nic
***
January 16th, 2019
Garrett
It's three pm and I'm drinking. I promised myself I'd stop, new years resolutions and such. I'd already failed, but I didn't care at this point.
"You going back to Shanes?"
"I have to finish editing." Is all he says, I'd completely lost him, and he'd never know. He'd never know of the way he used to act before he'd sold his soul to Shane's viewers. It was almost worse than my problem because I could at least control what I put out, Andrew at the mercy of Shane would never feel relief. They weren't his fans, they weren't his views, Andrew would never feel the satisfaction of posting and being content. For Andrew there was always more that could be done, a cut could transition smoother, maybe a better song choice? It was never-ending for him, blinded by the enormous amount of views pulled, he'd never find peace in anything he edited, always wanting the best for Shane, and only that.
"Cool." Is all I say, taking another swig of whiskey, he hadn't even noticed that I was drinking straight out of the bottle. I guess he didn't have to, it wasn't his place to take care of me, at least not anymore.
"See you later." He mutters, still not even attempting to look in my general direction. I feel sick to my stomach, what had become of us? I watch as he shoulders the bag, leaving quickly, the Uber Shane'd called for him had arrived, the door closes and I take another drink.
I couldn't even blame Shane, it wasn't his fault, really, if anything it was mine. I'd introduced the two, and things were never the same. I wondered if he'd even notice if I was gone. Probably not, he was way to busy, me being gone would actually be better for him, he wouldn't even have to worry about coming home to me. I didn't even know what we were anymore, and every time I brought it up the snaps of his rubber band became so loud, I couldn't. I couldn't talk about it anymore, I didn't want to hurt him, even though I knew he probably wouldn't care. The old Andrew was gone, and honestly, I didn't see him coming back anytime soon.
So, I left. I packed a small bag, booked a flight and called an Uber, to buzzed to drive myself, and this way people would think that I was home. By people, I mean Andrew, he'd think I was home, he'd come by, grab some clothes, shower, sleep, and be out again, he wouldn't notice I was even gone. I take one last look at the place, it looked good, clean and organized. To think that I'd gone through all of that trouble for him to only come by when need be, his place was shit, so I'd let him stay with me, he pitched for half of the rent, and we got on well. At least, we used to. I turn out the light, not knowing when I'd be back, or even if I'd be back.
***
Andrew
He's drinking again, I should confront him, he promised he'd stop. But who was I to judge? I knew he was unhappy, I knew he was upset that I was gone all the time, I was upset myself. I missed him, I loved him, but I couldn't fucking tell him.
"Andrew?"
I'd arrived at Shane's shortly after leaving Garrett's, uninvited. Why was I here?
"I need to fix something," is all I say, pushing my way inside. A worried look appears on Shane's face and he furrows his brow, exchanging concerning glances with Ryland.
"Come in?"
"I just need to fix something," I mutter, making my way to the editing room. I set my bag on the ground, plopping down in the chair that Garrett had gifted me, 'for your new office' he'd said. He'd been so excited to give it to me. I want to throw up. What am I doing?
