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He was used to feelings.
[PROTAG] was used to feeling to much. He was used to feeling nothing at all. He was used to feeling worthless, and empty. Alone. 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘥. He was all to used to the feeling of a sick pleasure when a blade met his skin.
He was used to not feeling wanted.
It was A feeling that twisted your insides. A feeling that felt like being torn open and having your insides removed. Only to be stiches back up. Your innards jumbled and wrong, and all your left with is a sting. A sharp pain in your stomach, in your chest.
What [PROTAG] wasn't used to was crying.
He'd read once that your brain can't take so many negative emotions at once. You can't handle so many bad feelings and experiences, it tears up your mental state. So it just goes numb, and you feel nothing at all.
However, [PROTAG] would say that that was worse. Feeling 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. Feeling broken because everyone around you is expressing themselves. Everyone is laughing, and smiling, and crying. All he could do was look at his own hands and hyperventilate.
Frankly, he'd rather be a doll. Someone dress him up and stuff him. Maybe that's what he always felt like though, a toy. Something less than human. Maybe nothing at all.
It was odd.
It had been so long since [PROTAGS] pillow had been wet from tears. The last time it happened was probably when he was ten. He was going to have an even worse time falling asleep than usual, and be miserable at work.
The reason he was crying felt so selfish too. [PROTAG] felt 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦. Pathetic, right? He felt as if no-one wanted him, as if he had lost all use. He wasn't interesting enough, and nobody cared about him anymore.
It was dumb, but the thought had felt like a train hitting him.
It was A long night. Overtime, paperwork, same-old same-old. He was trying to sleep. Trying to will the rest of the day away. Trying to leave the thought of having nothing to do, no-one to want him alone.
But then he thought about it more. And his chest started aching. It felt maybe as if he was being operated on, and someone accidentally cut open his heart.
[PROTAG] felt so incredibly sad. Devastated. What's even the point of being alive if no-one had any use for him? What's even the point of trying to get better? Of trying to be good at everything, being nice to everyone? What's the point of continuing on when no-one wants him to?
He had tried to shake the thought from his head. He was working so hard to get better, he had come so far. How is it fair for it to all fall apart, just like that? Why did everyone and everything just despise him so much?
The last thing we wanted right now was to be alive. Honestly, would anyone even notice if [PROTAG] didn't walk into the office tomorrow morning?
C'mon, maybe his bosses would. But they would only care about the profit decreasing. And before he knew it, he would be replaced. If he didn't come back to work he would be replaced with someone who worked harder, more efficiently. Someone people actually cared about, someone who actually present worth. Use.
Before [PROTAG] even realised, his eyes were burning. His vision had blurred, even though his glasses had even been off.
The Intern was brought back to reality by the feeling of tears rolling down his cheeks. He stared forwards into nothing for a moment, processing what was happening.
Was he...crying? Why? Was this feeling, this utter loneliness, and yearning for something better, so great that he had started to 𝘤𝘳𝘺? Really.
This, over everything that had happened tonight, was the most pathetic thing. Maybe he deserved to be this way. If [PROTAG] really can't handle his own thoughts, then maybe he deserved to hate himself this greatly.
[PROTAG] layer on his side, feeling the cool mattress against his skin. It wasn't comforting, as some may think. If anything, it was just a reminder of how cold this world really was.
He wanted to cover his ears so bad. It was A thing [PROTAG] had done when he was younger. A thing that he got scolded for doing. The voices--everything, actually--were just to loud. Its hard to handle.
He didn't want to listen to the voices in his head. He felt like everything was telling him he's wrong, and he doesn't want to believe it.
No matter how bad it hurts, its not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 bad, right? He had survived literal death before. 𝘗𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.
[PROTAG] realized now just how quiet his quaint apartment was. Quiet, and dark. He was never really a fan of either.
The quiet left him with a sense of dread. And much too much open space for those 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 to start talking to him again. He didn't want that to happen, [PROTAG] didn't want to fall back into that hole he had worked so hard to get out of.
That's why he constantly worked overtime. The loud office noises, or even that stupid clock that seemed to go slower every second was better than silence.
He desperately needed something to cling onto, something to listen to, to focus on. His chest hurt. His hear felt like it was on fire. Yet everything felt so damn 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥..
[PROTAG] sat up in bed, not bothering to put on his glasses again. He sniffled, wiping the tears from his eyes. He couldn't help but think that crying like this was embarrassing, even when he was all alone.
The Intern stood up, no real plan in mind, and went to the first place he knew made noise; his telephone. The only sound in his apartment was the quiet padding of his feet on the hard floor, and the distant ringing in his ears.
He faltered after sitting down in front of the phone. [PROTAG] realized he didn't know who to call. If he even had anyone to talk to at all.
He supposes he could just listen to the ringing, but that wouldn't help. He needs to listen to a voice, a voice that wasn't his own.
It was...stupid, but he thinks that his coworker gave him his phone number. For work purposes, of course! [PROTAG] hadn't quite paid it mind, as he saw the interaction as another one of his personality traits to be constantly social and trusting.
[PROTAG] spared the clock in his room a quick glance. It was late. Would the blond even pick up? What the he even say?
He was to desperate to hear his voice to care much, and quickly searched through his suits pockets for the price of paper. (To hear 𝘈 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦, he quickly corrected himself.)
The Intern dialed the number, his hands shaky. He wasn't quite sure if he was just cold, or nervous.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times, four...
This was stupid. He was stupid. What the hell was he 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨?! His stupid coworkers not gonna pick up, it's two o'clock in the damn morning--!
"---Hello?" [PROTAG] froze. "...Who is this?" The blond called again, his voice slightly muffled by static.
The ravenette fumbled with the phone, trying to make up a quick excuse for calling. "Uhm. Uh...hi."
"Wha-- Newbie? That you??" [PROTAG] ignored how his toned seemed to lighten up.
"Yeah, uh. 'M sorry for calling this late."
"Nah don't sweat it bud. Say, what 𝘢𝘳𝘦 you doing up this late anyways? Don't tell me you're stayin' at the office past midnight!" [COWORKERS] voice had the light, playful tone to it he used when joking. [PROTAG] shook his head before quickly realizing he was talking on the phone.
"Ah, no, I'm at home." He had a lazy smile on his face, and hopped that the blond could hear it through the phone.
"Good. I dunno why you're always doin' overtime, is pay 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 that bad?" [COWORKER] scoffed through the phone.
[PROTAG] laughed, but he realized was hollow, and his expression dropped.
"Haha.. No-- well, yeah? I guess it kinda is." He glanced around his apartment.
"Right." The blond huffed a laugh. "Anyways, what are you doing calling me? Especially at this late hour."
Shit. He knew he needed to explain that at some point, he had just wished he could lay it off a little longer and listened to his coworkers voice some more.
Now that he thought about it, when he wasn't mocking [PROTAG], his coworkers voice actually sounded pretty nice. It was sweet, and loud enough to drown out any negative thoughts, especially when he just started rambling on about whatever. The ravenette somewhat wished he could see him in person right now.
"Oh I just. Uhm..." He tried to quickly think of an excuse. "I guess I was just feeling lonely. I kind of... Wanted to hear your voice..." Damn it.
There was A pause from the other end. Did [PROTAG] mess up? Jeez, he probably just ruined it!
"I...really?" [COWORKER] asked, his voice quiet. [PROTAG] couldn't identity any emotions. Maybe concern? Or disappointment?? Shoot.
"I guess. Its stupid, I know. I'll just uhm, hang up--"
"Wait!" They both went quiet.
"What??"
"Uh. N-- No, it's alright. Its not stupid its just," [PROTAG] might've heard his coworker face palm. "I think your tired, Newbie." There was concern in [COWORKERS] voice, along with something else. Something warmer. "You should really get some sleep, your always overworking yourself bud. I'll see you at work." He clicked his tongue, and [PROTAG] assumed he might've winked or something. He instinctively rolled his eyes.
"Okay, you're probably right. Uhm, goodnight--" what the fuck. "Bye." He hung the phone up out of embarrassment, and sat in the silence for a bit.
Actually, it wasn't so silent now that he thought about it. The Ravenette could hear city sounds, traffic and such, and the wind. It was nice. It was...peaceful. He smiled softly to himself.
[PROTAG] replayed their conversation in his head while falling asleep.