(obs)CURE

.1.

POV: Obsxrxs

The screen was bright against his relatively pale skin. He hadn't been outside in what felt like months, but there was no one physically there to judge him but himself.

"I  just feel like," he started, taking a small pause to sip his beer, "this way is better."

He looked towards the chat, which was rapidly scrolling as more comments were put out into the hellhole that his streams had become. 

"Face reveal?"  One asked. 

Well, "asked" implied some sort of acceptance that it wasn't really going to happen. More often than not, the comments demanded that he show even just a glimpse of his appearance. 

He wouldn't give in, though. 

"Guys, I'm not gonna do a face reveal. Just let it go."

Some people understood why, and he continuously tried to remind himself of that fact as his eyes scanned the chat for another talking point. 

"What did I do today? Not much, really. I haven't been getting out of bed until like right before I stream recently."

He wasn't completely lying. His day had started about an hour before his stream started, however he had done something particularly memorable that day.

His first cigarette. In a while, anyway.

He wasn't proud of it, and he sure as hell wasn't going to blast his relapse on his Twitch stream for everyone listening to hear. But it did make him happy. Well, the kind of mercurial happiness that came with the nicotine and who knows what else floating inaptly innocently down his body. He was happy to have something to fall back onto, even though his friends assured him that they were open to talking whenever need be. 

They didn't know he smoked.

Or vaped.

Or smoked weed.

They didn't know about the couple of times he got his hands on a little bag of white powder, and they didn't know how he felt after that bag was emptied into his bloodstream. 

Depressed. It made him feel depressed. It didn't, however, make him depressed. He guessed that his genetics had done that, but he couldn't be sure. 

"Sorry," he began once more, "I zoned out for a minute there."

Chat didn't seem to mind his seconds of silence, and they continued typing, eager to get his attention for even a split second. 

"I think I'm done for tonight, guys. It's been three hours." 

He wiped a stray beer droplet from his mouth with the back of his hand as he  prepared to end the stream. 

"Thanks for coming to the stream, bye."

Click.

Alone again. Did he ever stop being alone? He looked back to his computer monitor, now dim from his home screen. 

Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up from his chair and grabbed the now empty bottle. 

His kitchen was poorly lit, but he wasn't in the mood to turn any other lights on. He was in the mood for another cigarette. Or a blunt. Or maybe to talk to someone. 

He rubbed his eyes, trying to get them in focus so he could make his way to his couch. He didn't sleep in his bedroom anymore, it was far too depressing. Somehow, though, the old coffee and wine-stained couch made more of an uplifting mattress than the one in the bedroom. 

Sighing heavily and in his raspy-not raspy-way, he laid down on the cushions, resting his head just barely on the arm rest. He was far too tall to fit completely.

This was going to be a long night.

Just like every other night.