Ranboo placed his lunch tray on the table, the one that he always ate at in the corner, looking down at his hands before sliding onto the bench. He sat there for a few seconds, hesitantly glancing around the cafeteria, almost as if someone would be standing from afar and watching him. It was hard to tell, however, due to the sunglasses that he was wearing. The room was much dimmer than it would usually be, and it was harder to make out the small details of who was who and who was getting what. Compared to without sunglasses, at least. He didn't allow himself to take them off, though, not even when he was eating. His sunglasses remained on at all times, shielding his eyes from everyone. There was nothing wrong with his eyes, they were quite normal. Piercing, sparkling...an average pair. Ranboo just didn't want anyone to see them. The same went for his face. He kept that hidden as well, not without reason of course, although the reason itself was a bit foolish. In life, one was expected to offer up everything. Ranboo could offer up his intelligence, or his acting capabilities, or the fact that maybe he cared a bit too much at the wrong times...but he wouldn't give them his face. He wouldn't let them look at it.
His parents were allowed to see his face, obviously, but he was insistent that not anyone else did. Ranboo kept that for himself...it was the one thing he was allowed to have...the one thing that made him feel important. And sure, he supposed that was why he got bullied relentlessly. People always assumed that he was hiding something horrible underneath that mask of his...hiding burns, or scars, or an incredible amount of acne. Nothing of the sort. His face was average...his skin was clear, his eyes were bright, and his cheeks were rosy. No one got to know that, though...and it was unfortunate that their lack of knowledge had resulted in them turning to jeers. Ranboo was aware of the way that people would look at him when they walked by. They might not have been able to see his face, but he could surely see theirs. He could see the way they looked at him with such confusion...scrunching their nose slightly or furrowing their eyebrows. It didn't help that he was tall, either. He stood out in a crowd. All anyone had to do was look up, and there he was. Standing above the other heads in the hallway, it was nearly impossible to not be noticed. At all times, it seemed as if all eyes were on him.
Often times, none of those gazes were kind. Confused, disgusted, amused. Often flickering from him and then back to their group of friends, chatting about how weird he was and how he would probably have more friends if he just took his mask off. Even those who he had thought could never do wrong had laughed at jokes like that...the girls in his drama class who had attempted to befriend him would then turn their backs and laugh. Ranboo refused to be around people who were two-faced like that. Besides, he didn't need them. He didn't need anyone. In an environment where no one truly wanted him, it was easy enough for him to say that surely he didn't need any of them either. The boy didn't need a friend group to hang around, or people to talk to, or people to sit with. Sure, it would be nice to have those things, but he supposed he could live without them. The worst mistake he could make would be to grow accustomed to friends and then have to lose them.
Ranboo knew damn well that he was making that mistake with Tubbo.
He had noticed him before, the brunette...always standing by his friends and laughing. Always writing something in that composition notebook of his, his wrist flicking as he sketched something, the pen twirling around in loops as he scribbled over something else. Ranboo had spotted him in the library on a few occasions, his elbow propped on the table and his chin resting dully in the palm of his hand...his other hand holding that basil green pen of his, jotting down whatever was on his mind. The taller boy had never approached him, however. Simply watched. Well, not watched...noticed. Ranboo would be doing something of his own, of course. He would often be flipping quickly through the pages of a book that he was supposed to read the night before, trying to prepare for a reading quiz when he knew damn well he should just be looking at SparkNotes. And...occasionally...he would glance up from his book. And his eyes would immediately lock on that boy. Tubbo. Sitting there, doodling freely, thinking of nothing else. Being free. Free to just sit there without receiving unwanted stares of confusion and disdain. Ranboo supposed he was a bit jealous of him, in that way.
