Chapter Text
Jonathan sat back heavily in his chair, a look of hurt and disbelief flashing across his face. He stared blankly at the fluorescent screen that lit up his face in the fading daylight.
Comment after comment after comment; all saying about the same exact thing. The same exact meaning.
People hated his new mic. He'd gone out and bought a brand new one just because people were complaining about the way his old one sounded. And now they were complaining again, but for an entirely different reason.
The new one he'd bought was a state-of-the-art, extremely expensive piece of equipment. It made him sound a lot clearer and more detailed. His voice was as clear as day through the mic.
But everyone hated it. They constantly complained about how much different he sounded with it. Some even went as far as to add vulgar choice words.
So, rather, they didn't dislike his new mic necessarily. They didn't like how his actual voice sounded. The old shitty mic had masked his voice a lot, but the new one showed everyone just how much different his real voice was.
He'd actually dropped subscribers in the past two weeks he'd used the new mic, too. Probably about a hundred people cancelled their subscription to his channel. A hundred people in two weeks. And the number was still dropping, little at a time.
He honestly felt hurt. Did his subscribers really not like the way his voice really sounded?
Even worse, his friends were in on it too.
The guys started acting weird around him after he got the new mic. They invited him to play with them less, and they would pester him about how much of a change it was. And when he was playing something with them, they'd often ignore him when he talked. That or their jokes would become more harsher towards him.
Jonathan slammed his laptop shut and pushed away from the desk. He stood up, rubbing his dry eyes, and headed downstairs. He glanced over at his grandfather clock positioned on the far wall directly across from the bottom of the steps. 8:53 it read. He still had a lot of time to kill before he was able to actually fall asleep. And he hadn't eaten anything since noon.
Jonathan made a bee-line straight for the refrigerator. He was starving. He dug around in the shelves for food, eventually deciding on a slice of leftover pizza and a can of soda. He popped the pizza in the microwave and sipped on his soda as he waited.
As he took his dinner out of the microwave, he heard the familiar click of nails on linoleum tiles. He turned around, pizza in hand, to find his brown Pitbull Terrier staring up at him with wide eyes.
"I'm guessing you want some of my food." Jonathan chuckled, heading into his living room. The dog trailed behind him.
He sank down onto his couch, the dog jumping up next to him. He smiled in amusement as the dog just sat and eyed his food patiently. "Sorry, Tucker. This stuff isn't for you."
The Pitbull Terrier whined in response, squirming on the couch impatiently. He licked his lips eagerly and tilted his head adorably to the left.
Jonathan laughed at him and peeled off a small circular pepperoni slice from the pizza. "Fine, fine. Just one little piece. No more." He fed it to the dog, who swallowed it in one big gulp.
Jonathan rolled his eyes and flicked the TV on. He stopped channel surfing at FX, where The Expendables was currently playing. He leaned back comfortably and ate his pizza in peace, Tucker still at his side.
Right as he finished his last bite, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and took it out.
It was a text from Evan. Hey, Delirious. Mini, Tyler, Nogla, Brock and I are thinking of playing some Gmod Scary Maps in 30 mins. You up to join?
Jonathan found his fingers typing in a response before his brain fully caught up with him. Sorry, can't. I'm busy. He clicked send and froze immediately afterwards.
This was the first time he'd actually said no to playing with the guys.
Of course, he'd go AFK a lot to just get a break, but he'd always come back to the keyboard just to play with them when they asked. He'd never actually denied going online for some game-time.
Jonathan sighed and drew his knees up to his chin. He wished he could just sink into the seat cushions of the couch; disappear forever. He shouldn't let this bother him as much as it was now. It wasn't that big of a deal.
Right?
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Evan frowned at Delirious' reply. It wasn't like him to decline playing with the guys. And the I'm busy stuff, that's a load of bull. He knew Delirious better than any of the other guys, except for Luke.
Delirious didn't have much of a life outside of YouTube. He didn't go to college, didn't have a job, and didn't have many friends at his hometown. He almost never left his house, and hardly anyone ever came over to visit.
So something was obviously wrong. Was he mad at one of the guys? Did they do something to get him upset?
Evan texted him back. You okay?
Delirious took a while to reply. Which was unusual, to say the least. He always texted back immediately after Evan sent his text. The man practically lived on his phone.
Something was definitely wrong. And all that he got in response was just a simple Yeah.
Evan's fingers flew over the letters as he thumbed in exactly what he thought. Delirious wasn't getting off the hook that easily. Fucking liar. Now I'm going to call you, and you're gonna tell me what the fuck is bothering you. And call him he did.
Delirious picked up on the third ring. For a moment, it was silent. "Well?" Evan started. "I'm waiting."
He listened as Delirious sucked in huge gulp of air. "Why do you like me?" He asked quietly.
Evan was taken aback by the question. "What?"
"Why do you guys choose to hang out with me? Of all the other gamers in the world....why me?"
Evan took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "We like you for you. Your personality is just so unique that we can't help but gravitate towards it. You're so enthusiastic and funny, and you just fit in so easily with us. You're a bit insane at times but we deal with it because we all secretly like how crazy you can get. You're a mystery that nobody can solve and it makes us keep coming back for more. We like you for who you are, Delirious. Now tell me what this is all about. You're kinda scaring me, man."
And just like that, Delirious was spilling all of his thoughts through the phone. He told Evan how he noticed how everyone treated him after he got the new mic and how rejected he feels. He told him about all the comments on his videos, and the way his number of subscribers dropped dramatically. He also shared his fears about meeting everyone in person, and how they might not like him. He was scared that they might not like his appearance.
Evan stayed silent. He didn't know how to respond. Was this what really what Delirious was all bent out of shape about?
It was stupid, really. The guys didn't care what each other looked like. They just liked one another because they fit together like some rag-tag family.
"We need to meet up." Evan demanded. "Just you and me. I need to show you just how little you have to worry about. You need to get over your fears and I'm going to help you. Now, you have two choices. Either you're flying across the goddamn country or I'm going to show up on your fucking doorstep. Your choice."
The line was quiet again, and Evan swore that he could practically hear Delirious thinking. The only sound was the steady breathing drifting into his ear. "Can I bring Tucker with me?" He said at last, his voice slightly strained and apprehensive.
Evan broke into a huge grin. Delirious was coming to see him. He never actually thought that Delirious would agree.
"Sure, man. As long as he doesn't shed all over my house." He said it partially jokingly. Evan loved dogs, so why not. From what Delirious had told him, Tucker was a pretty well-behaved dog.
Delirious let out a small tightened laugh. "He's a Pitbull Terrier, Evan. He doesn't have that much fur."
"I know." Evan chuckled along with him. "When do you want to come?"
"Uhh....I can catch a flight in two days, I guess. It'll give me enough time to pack, and I can get Luke to watch the house for me."
"Sweet. I'll pick you up from the airport when you land."
"Alright." Evan detected the slight waver in his tone.
"Don't sound so nervous, man. I bet you look pretty good looking in person."
Delirious instantly went back to himself, laughing maniacally as if Evan had just told the funniest joje in the universe. "Oh, I look fucking hot."
Evan laughed along with him and grinned devilishly. "Oh really now? On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate yourself on looks? Be honest."
"Uh, seven and a half? Fuck, I don't know."
"I'll be the judge of that. How will I know it's you? Do I just stand there and wait for someone to randomly come up to me? Knowing you, you'd probably make a game out of it and fucking troll me."
"You know me so well." Delirious laughed again. He was probably picturing exactly how he was going to troll Evan. "But I guess I can wear something to make to make me stand out."
"I got an idea. Just wear a neon orange T-shirt and find a pair of those ugly-ass yellow Nike shorts. You'll stand out like a fucking beacon."
"Ew, no." Delirious giggled, his breath ghosting through the phone. "You have absolutely no taste in clothing. How about....uh....just look for someone wearing a VanossGaming T-shirt and a baseball cap with a Northern Guilford High School Nighthawks emblem on it."
Evan raised an eyebrow. Delirious bought one of his T-shirts? When had this happened? "Okay, man. See you then. Text me when your flight takes off."
"Alright. See you in two days, I guess."
"I'll be awaiting your gracious presence, sir." Evan said in a fake British accent. It was extremely terrible, but he didn't care.
"And I'll be running the other fucking way if you ever talk like that again." Delirious said jokingly. He laughed one last time before hanging up.
Evan shook his head with a smile still lingering on his face. He locked his phone and threw it to the other side of his couch. He still had twenty minutes to kill. Wasn't The Expendables playing on FX tonight?
He briefly wondered if maybe Delirious was watching it too.
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It wasn't until the the next morning when the realization finally sunk it. Jonathan laid in bed minutes after awakening, letting the full effect of last night's conversation wash over him.
What the fuck was he doing? He couldn't fly to LA. There was no way in hell he'd get on that plane. He couldn't meet Evan.
But it was too late to back out now. If he didn't go see Evan, he'd have to move to fucking Finland. Evan had his address from mailing him a birthday present last summer. He would just do exactly what he said he would do and suddenly show up at his house.
Jonathan had no other choice but to go through with this. And if any of his friends were to be the most accepting, it had to be Evan. Evan was always so down-to-earth and calm about everything. It was just part of what made him him.
Jonathan rolled out of bed with a sigh. He trudged down the hallway to where the bathroom was and peeked at himself in the mirror.
I bet you look pretty good-looking in person.
Jonathan grinned. Evan wasn't exactly wrong. He'd been told multiple times by various people that he looked hot.
His bright blue eyes were still glossy from his slumber; his short chestnut hair in a state of disarray. The freckles spattered across his cheeks stood out against his flushed skin. He flicked his tongue nervously over his dry, pink lips.
What if Evan didn't like the way he looked? Would he send him straight back to where he came from?
Jonathan scoffed. He was worrying over nothing. Evan liked him for who he was inside. He probably wouldn't give two shits if Jonathan was an ugly motherfucker.
For now, he could quit his fussing. He had bags to pack and a trip to prepare for.