hacked // a newtmas au

00.011

Newt threw his shirt on the ground and huffed loudly. Nothing he was putting on looked right. He looked stupid in all of it. He didn't even know why he was stressing so much about this, Thomas probably didn't give two shits about what fucking shirt he was wearing.

Newt shook his head and brushed his hair out with his fingers. It didn't matter. It was just Tommy. Just Oben. He knew he wouldn't hate him no matter what.

Newt finally grabbed a long sleeve red shirt from his closet and put it on, refusing to look in the mirror. He pulled on his black jeans and white socks and tied his vans that desperately needed to be replaced. There was a hole in the side and the once white soles were far from white and closer to brown.

Newt's mom let him skip school today. He slept in until eleven then desperately cleaned every inch of his room and basement. He pretended not to see when his mom shot him knowing looks as she watched him shove his stuffed animals to the bottom of his closet.

Newt made his bed and even vacuumed which was big for him. He usually didn't bother with the whole cleaning thing because he was just going to get it messy again. Maybe it was just his depression talking then, but his room did look nice when it was clean. His walls were painted light grey and he had a hardwood floor. His bed had a black and red comforter and he had a couple of posters tacked up of the game. His closet had a sliding door which was kinda cool to him. He had a small bookshelf that he mostly filled with his stupid game collectibles and he had a few pictures of him and Lizzy that he didn't have the heart to take down.

Newt huffed as he pushed his hair back. He really should have gotten a haircut. His hair was shaggy and kept falling into his eyes. He probably looked like he sold drugs on the side of the street for fun after school.

Newt groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had Teresa's actual phone number now, so he texted her.

Newt: please help I'm freaking the fuck out

Teresa: stop it you dumbass...it's just Oben

Newt: exactly it's OBEN

Teresa: lmfao you're such a disaster...between you and me he's nervous too. Feels like you won't like him

Newt: LMAO little does he know

Teresa: you LIKEEEEEE him ;)

Newt: die.

Teresa: you make me blush

Newt: D I E

Teresa: relax okay? Text me when you get to your house you fuckin dweeb

Newt: okayokay. I guess I'll see you later...whore

Teresa: wow the insults HURT...I'll give you a giant hug tonight :)

Newt: that's a threat

Teresa: FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUUU. Love you, good luck

Newt huffed out a laugh before wandering downstairs and pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Sometimes you just had to cope with six bowls of lucky charms. Newt's mom had gone to work a while ago so he had the house to himself. He didn't know how to deal with this. Meeting Tommy felt like his biggest dream yet his worst nightmare. Maybe deep down he was irrationally terrified that Thomas would hate him. He knew that he was probably being stupid, but he couldn't help the insecurities that he lived with constantly.

Newt took his bowl of cereal to his mom's office and sat at her desk. He stared at the computer, begging for it to give him some answers. He just wanted to know where Minho was. In hindsight his anxiety about meeting Thomas was so minicule to the fact that Minho was literally missing. There was no telling where he could be. He could be dead somewhere or being tortured or- no Newt wasn't going to think about that.