"How are we, chat?" Tommy grinned, pulling up a coke can from his desk and pressing it to his lips, feeling the liquid flow down to his stomach. He looked to chat as he put the drink down and spun around in his chair to face his monitor properly. "Why's everyone spamming 'BIG Q?'"

He glanced at his phone as he heard it ding and picked it up to see a message from Twitter: @OfficialQuackity followed you.

Add me Quaackity#0978

"AH, CHAT!" He yelled into the mic staring down at his phone. "Chat I've got some news for you lot, you're gonna love this." He frantically typed onto his other monitor and copy pasted the name onto discord, sending out the friend request. A moment later, it got accepted and Tommy was staring at an empty chat.

He felt his finger tips ignite with excitement, sparking with glee and overloading when he saw that Quackity, the Quackity, was typing back.

eyo tomathy

The chat could see him physically grinning. "Hold up, chat. I'm getting it ready."

eyo big q

im streaming now. do you want to be on it?

He should have felt embarrassment asking something so broad, but they already met up one time a month ago at a concert so it automatically meant they were besties (Don't tell Tubbo.)

already using me for clout i see i see

no no its not like that

Ah, he's on to me. Tommy thought as he watched Quackity type back.

What are you doing?

playing hardcore minecraft

Okay

Quackity called him and Tommy dragged his arrow onto the call option, eyes digging holes onto the screen. "'ELLO?" He yelled into the mic, and the chat began to grow restless.

"EYYYYY, TOMATHY!" Quackity's voice shouted in his ears, making the blond boy laugh and reply with something similar. "EYYYYY, BIG Q! ME GUSTA, ME GUSTA!"

Tommy had had to deal with both Niki and George for years and years, learned about the band-members and everything there was to know, so he had picked up a few facts. Quackity laughed into his ears and Tommy watched the chat go wild.

"Is this real? No, it's not. This is my good friend- um-" Tommy chuckled and Quackity filled in the lines.

"John smith, ey, how's it goin' Tommy?" He spoke, lacing his words with a thick American accent. Tommy laughed into his mic.

"Ey, Mamacita, Ey, ey." Quackity laughed back at him, and the two kept laughing whilst more and more rows of people came up to watch his stream.

"Do you want me to teach you Spanish, Tomathy?"

"Hey, my name is not Tomathy, you prick." Tommy loaded into Minecraft and landed into his hardcore world, switching to f5 mode as he began to punch at the screen in his stream. "Oh shit, the fans aren't gonna like that- JK, Jk guys, haha. OI BITCH!"

A donation silenced his words with text to speech, "Tomathy don't be mean to Quackity."

"MY NAME IS NOT- IM NOT BEING MEAN!" Tommy yelled into his mic as Quackity slammed whatever he was sitting on. "Woah, are you okay? You sound like you're dying."

Only then did he hear the roaring laughter escaping his mouth, a sort of squeaky personality slipping out of the pedestal people put him on. Tommy quite liked people this way, laughing and grinning.

They forgot about everything other than that moment and watched as everything important slipped away from their grasps for just a moment, just a small, tiny second before it was brought back to them.

If Tommy could be that person to others, then he would be the luckiest man in the world. "I'm fine- Absolutely fine." His voice grew high pitched it made Tommy giggle to himself. He glanced at chat for a moment. Aw, I never knew Big Q could sound so happy. Thanks for making him laugh Tommyinnit :]

He smiled at the comment. "Hey, d'you have minecraft Big Q?"

"Yeah, I do actually." Quackity giggled to himself. "Hold on a minute, I'll get it started." They waited for a moment, and a moment longer, until Quackity announced that he had the game running. Tommy sent him an invitation to a private server and the two hopped on.

"EYYY, BIG Q!" Tommy's character ran up to where Big Q stood and he began to jump around him, shifting his hand around him. "EYYYYYY TOMMY!"

The two ran around for a while, breaking wood and creating stone swords to slaughter animals, chopping trees down to keep all of their trinkets in a house they shared, smelting iron and becoming as rich as they possibly could. Hours passed by them like minutes and at the three hour mark, Tommy ended the stream with a promise he'd be back the next day, or the next week, he wasn't so sure.

He stretched his arms and lifted them up into the air, yawning. "I underestimated how tired you could be after a stream, holy shit." He heard Quackity utter in the call and he sat back up, a little slumped. "Yeah, s'true."

"How do you manage?"

"Well, I'm awesome so nothing bothers me like my folks." Quackity chuckled on the other end of the call. Tommy picked his phone up and typed his password in before entering the land of miserable folks and garbage fires: Twitter.

After scrolling around for a bit, he came across an updates account. "Hah, Quackity was on Tommyinnit's stream. People keep so many updates on your lot, what the fuck?"

"Hey, that's what happens when your famous. People put you on a pedestal."

"Why don't you just step off?"

"'m not allowed."

Tommy looked up from his phone and to his computer. "What d'you mean?"

Quackity grew silent for a moment and a moment later he was chuckling, a sad sort of noise that made Tommy feel his stomach turn. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

That's what Will always said back home. That's what Will always said when he was dying inside, when he just came back from a ruff night and got smashed in the low night, by the liquor of a cold drink. Bollocks, he wanted to say, Something's bothering you. And he did.

"It's just the business, Tommy. There's nothing you can do about it. You are so fucking bri'ish, by the way, bollocks. What even is that?"

"I'm sorry, American. Nonsense." Tommy spoke in the most cliche American accent he could muster. It made Big Q laugh even more.

The two spent the next hour speaking to one another with the twisted promise they'd speak later on. Tommy stood from his chair and stretched, walking out to the living room where he saw both George and Dream under a blanket, with a show playing in the background.

Dream stood up from his sitting position and raised his arms in the air, "YES, THAT'S IT ANNE! SPEAK TO HIM, DEFEND HER!"

"What're you two gits doing?" Tommy launched himself on the couch next to Gogy, the world now upside down because of his position. Dream and George both turned to face him. "What?"

"Oh, hey Toms. How'd the stream go?" George asked as Dream sat back down, eyes glued on the screen.

"Great. A bit tired though, I think I'm gonna go on a walk. Where's Will?"

"Will's with Tubbo and Nickels. They're sorting out Niki's living situation." Tommy nodded slowly. Word of Niki coming to live with them had gone around since he had suggested it. "Who's turn is it for dinner duty?"

"Yours."

"Ah shit. Please, can you cover for me? I'll do your washing for two weeks."

"No, you won't, you'll only mess it up more."

"Please, Gogs?"

"No, Tom. Use the cookbook in the drawer and give it a go. Don't burn the kitchen down."

"I will." Tommy laughed when George gave him one of his famous 'glares.' "Okay fine."

"Be back soon."

"You're not my mum." Tommy shot back as he lifted his jacket off of the coat rack and slipped it over his shoulders. He slipped his phone in his pocket and pulled the door knob down only for it to not work. Groaning, he pulled it towards him with all his might and soon, it snapped open and he stumbled back.

"Alright, see you." He waved to both Dream and George who smiled and waved back.

"Bye Toms."

Tommy walked out of his apartment with a slight swing in his step. He pulled his hood up and let the sounds of the world soften his ears, up until he was far away from what he called home and trouble started to stir in the streets of London.

Every step he took shook the gravity of the world and made time stop and shudder at the sound of him, or so he always wanted to imagine. Because he was the man, he was in control, he had free will and could do whatever he wished.

Grinning to himself, he started to appreciate the tapping of his shoes and began to tap them in tune to a song he was humming in his head. People're giving you weird looks. Ignore them.

"Are you Tommy?"

Tommy paused at the sound of the voice and turned to see a man standing around his height. He grinned at him at the realisation that he knew who he was- A stranger, a person who he hadn't known knew him.

The world held it's hand out to the universe and they frolicked into the milky-way, the stars watching with ignited excitement. That's how he felt, every fiber of his being tingling.

Don't mess this up, Toms. "Yeah?"

"Oh, I've seen a lot of you. I'm Harry, a director." Harry held his hand out for Tommy to grip, in-which he did with a little more of force.

"Heh, Sorry." Toms pulled his hand away and shoved it into his pocket. The man didn't seem to mind.

"Your name is all over."

"Well- It isn't that big-"

"You've gone to a diamonds concert, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. My friends are obsessed with them."

"What did you think?"

"It was sick. There music's cool, I guess."

"There was a weird guy with you, he acted strange with them." Tommy stopped for a moment, stared at him with intent and a pair of furrowed brows. "Pardon?"

Yes, that's right, be polite.

"Oh, some guy that kept hanging around this girl. He was next to Dream in the photo I saw? Weird guy." Tommy's hands formed into fists. Don't get too repulsed.

"That's some statement for a guy you don't know."

"He looked sort of gay." The words stung him like a bee's sting, pulling it's liquor into his blood and repulsing him so badly he had to hold himself together. "He looked so uncomfortable, like he's hoarding drugs or something."

And he tried so hard to hold himself, to pick up all the shattered pieces of his being and just be. But he couldn't. He pointed a finger to the man's chest. Nobody walked around these parts, nobody was there to see. "Hey, that's my mate you're talking about."

"I mean no harm, man. But it's true."

Tommy took a step forward, testing the waters of the little dominance he had never bore before something pulled him back. A small, nimble voice that silenced all the anger raging through his body like a forest fire- Gripped his hand, whispered softly in his ear: It's not worth it.

Tommy grit his teeth and turned away from the man. "Sod off." He cursed and pushed his hands into his pockets, walking away.

When he was out of sight, the man grinned. Another man crawled out of the darkness, slipping his phone into his pocket with a sly smirk on his face.

"Did you catch that on camera?"

"Yeah. Shame he didn't slap you though."

"Eh, a little stunt editing'll do the trick."

-

"I'M HOME!" Tommy called into the homey apartment, pushing open the large door with a little more than a shove, two boxes of pizza in his other arm. Tubbo and Dream lifted their heads from where they sat on the sofa, the same show as before flashing on the screen.

George rushed up to him and seized the pizzas from his hand. "Jesus, Tom!" Will called from where he leaned on the kitchen island. Tommy shut the door and stood beside him.

"Sorry Gogs, I don't have a knack at cooking." George grumbled under his breath as Tommys advanced to the sofa, flopping himself next to Tubbo. "What's this?"

"Anne with an E," Tubbo answered. "Smiles said I could watch it with him."

"Will, could you take care of the pizza?" George asked from the kitchen, sighing as he sat down on Dream's side.

"Sure thing."

"Whats going on?"

"She's an orphan and she's visiting her old home with a friend of hers." Tubbo explain and a plate of pizza appeared above his head. "Oh, thanks Will."

"No problem." He handed both Dream and Tommy a plate at the same time and then finally one for himself and George.

They solemnly ate pizza as they watched the miss adventures of Anne of green gables, with wide grins and predictable laughing fits from idiotic characters and Tommys comments.

Truly, it felt good to be alive.