Work Text:
Your name is Dave Strider and you know you're missing something.
You wake up at odd times of the day and leave your apartment in search of the answers you know you won't find because you aren't even sure what you're looking for. You walk around this city of ghosts and feel like a ghost yourself. You live by yourself in that dusty apartment filled with your bro's old belongings. You haven't seen him in a very long time. You miss him.
At night, you lay on your back on the roof of your apartment and watch the sky. When the city smog clears away enough for you to see the stars, you stare at the constellations. You've made up stories for them. You think that Aries probably feels just as lonely and insignificant as you sometimes. Taurus is a bull and bulls should be big and confident, right? You think that's probably not always true. You think Gemini gets pretty fed up with having to share its identity with a twin. You think having a copy of yourself would get old after a while. Cancer is probably crabby. Leo can be tough when it wants to and you like that. You think that Virgo is too kind hearted and you feel bad for her for having to look down on this world because it must be hard to see so much sorrow when you're so innocent. Libra tries to keep the balance. Scorpio is selfish, but so is everyone else, including you. You admire Sagittarius' strength because you think they probably have seen a lot out there in the void. Capricorn is a strange creature that you don't completely understand. Aquarius is just as selfish as Scorpio, but there's a loneliness that you can relate to. Pisces comes last, but they're just as great, even if they get left out sometimes.
These made up people are the only people you know. You don't know where your bro is and you can't seem to find him anywhere in this dusty old city full of people who don't know who you are and don't care. You think your bro is probably dead, but you can't be certain and now that you think of it, you can't even remember what his face looked like.
You're 18 now and you haven't seen your bro in 5 years and you think that was probably the last time you really talked to anyone. You remember you had friends you talked to online, but you can't remember who they were or what their usernames were. Maybe they're just as made up as your constellation friends.
Your name is Dave Strider and you're lonely and you don't understand. There has to be something more than this.
You're sitting on your roof waiting for the clouds of pollution to clear so you can see your constellations when all of a sudden, it feels like you've been stabbed through your chest. It all comes back to you and you wish it hadn't because remembering hurts more than you could have ever imagined.
You did have friends online and their names were John, Rose, and Jade. You loved them and now you don't know where they are or if they're even alive. Your bro is dead. Those stories you thought you made up about the constellations aren't so made up. They were kids you once knew.
You played a game. You died a few times. Your friends died a few times, too. You became a god. Some of your friends didn't. You're alive now. You don't know if your friends are and the uncertainty hurts more than the truth ever could. You've never felt more alone than you do right now and you don't know where to go from here. And you still can't remember your bro's face.