now that i was a 'content creator', my sleep schedule was fucked. i've only posted two youtube videos, but ive streamed a fair amount. i don't pay much attention to media, mostly because i have a feeling people won't be very nice to me.

honestly, i love making the stupid, shitty content that i make. i found ways to incorporate my art into it, and i'm making a ton of money. i couldn't compare to alex though, and that was okay. i preferred it that way.

alex usually helped me edit, mostly because i was new to it and didn't really know how. we would sit next to each other and work on videos or whatever for hours, usually working until early morning. i had a feeling that if i didn't say anything, alex wouldn't stop working.

i checked the time, it was only 1:30, but it felt later. it was nights like these when i realized how sad alex was sometimes. i've asked him if he's okay, but i don't want to pressure him. this might seemed a little worse than the rest, though.

"what's wrong?" i ask after he sighs loudly. i don't get a response, instead, he just slumps down on the floor next to my chair.

"alright, talk to me." i push my laptop away.

"i don't even know. i've just been thinking a lot about past shit." alex admits. i listen carefully to him, i wanted him to know that i was listening, incase he ever wanted to open up.

"like what, if you don't mind me asking?" i chose my words carefully.

"well, my ex, basically." i pushed away any sort of feeling of attraction i had towards him, he needed help and i couldn't focus on myself right now. i sit down next to him, sliding down the chair and onto the ground.

"she was the fucking worst." alex laughs bitterly. "she completely manipulated me and treated me like shit. and i let her get away with it because i thought i loved her. she cheated on me, used me for money and everything. but she always said something, she said that no one was ever going to love me other than her. whatever our relationship was, it wasn't love, but i'm starting to think that's the closest i'm going to get."

his words linger up in the air. i had never asked about his romantic life, mostly because it wasn't my business, but it made sense. why he flinched when i yelled or got upset, why he was intimidated by me, why he constantly apologized after everything.

"alex, you don't deserve to be treated like that. i know me saying that doesn't change anything, but you need to believe that. you're fucking great, alright?" his head snaps in my direction, and i panic. his eyes are gleaming, they're warm and gentle. my mind goes blank for a moment. "you don't deserve that shit."

"i don't believe in happy endings or fairytales, but i know there's got to be someone out there that will treat you right, or at least better than her." i'm not thinking about the words as they flow out of my mouth.

i meet alex's eyes again. his pupils were dilated, and his eyes were more honey-like in color because of the artificial light. his mouth was slightly parted in surprise. the freckles and the beauty marks made him even more adorable, and it was getting really hard to stop looking at him.

"tha-thank you." he clears his throat. i nod, embarrassed.

"what about you? got a toxic ex?" he asks me, more confidently.

"i was homeless until last month, alex."

"before that! like high school." he adds.

"uh, no. i was never really social. i have toxic ass parents though." i did not mean to say that.

but i felt like i had to, in a way. he was opening up to me, and i wanted him to know i trusted him with similar shit, even if i didn't trust him completely.

"go on, if you want." he props his head up with his hands.

truth be told, i wanted to tell someone about this. i never had, it felt like a dirty secret that i hated about myself, but it wasn't my fault.

"well, uh, growing up i was verbally abused, and eventually it lead to physical. it was mostly my dad, but my mom would just watch. i guess it was better if it was me, because then it wasn't her." i swallow the lump in my throat. i hadn't felt the emotions i was feeling in a long time, and it felt like they were all escaping.

"i don't know why, but one day i told my school counselor. so they call home, the whole thing. my parents somehow bullshit their way out of it and make me feel like i was making everything up. one night it got really bad. i heard my mom getting, well, raped." i had pushed that memory so far back i almost forgot.

but you don't forget your mother screaming no.

"i ran away." it was getting harder to push back the fucking flood of tears coming. "i thought they would run out after me, and tell me they were sorry and everything was going to somehow be normal. they didn't." i blinked repeatedly.

"sometimes i feel like i made everything up, that they were good parents. but you don't let your daughter run away."

i felt exposed. there was no way to tell how alex would react. i didn't care look at him, instead, i focused on my fingernails digging into my palms.

"fuck your parents." he says. i look at him, confused. "obviously, that's fucked up, but i don't think i need to say that. i'm just happy you're safe."

there was no pity, no judgment, no 'i'm sorry'. he didn't tell me what i could've done, he just listened. that was when i knew, it was going to be very hard to not fall in love with alex.