DEAL OF THE CENTURY (Spamton X Reader)

Strings?

It was just...quiet. You may have found his constant chatter annoying but now you miss it. No matter how stupid the situation was you knew how to fix it. Like a voice telling you exactly what to do, but it's been silent since you and him fought. He would even outright avoid you if at all possible, and it's getting worse by the day, the phone in the back constantly ringing. He would pick it up and sit there, silent. The only time he said anything to you he'd just tell you to never answer it.
*It's getting ridiculous but your boldness isn't high enough yet...*
*screw this man who cares about the stats?*

"Oi, spam," you lean over the counter where he sat holding the phone again for the 3rd time that day.
He remained motionless.
You take the phone from him and hang it up. He jerked at the sound of the receiver being put in its place.
Huh, guess he fell asleep...with his eyes...open...
No more beating around the bush.
"Spamton what the fuck?"

"If I don't find it I'm fucked-," he mutters, almost ignoring you.
You slam your hands on the counter, and he jumps again.

"Look I don't know what the fuck is going on with you and you being on that damned phone is driving me insane! You haven't left this chair in three days and all you can answer for it is something you need to-,"
Without any warning you were against a wall, with him holding you by the collar at least 2ft off the ground.
"Listen here lightner, for the past fifteen years of my [4.99 life] I've been busting my ass, tryna make sales, some guy on the other end let me in on... something, and when the calls stopped I became a raccoon living out of the damn trash,"
...

"Do you know what happens to programs like me that don't work?! WE GET THROWN AWAY LIKE FUCKING TOYS.
WE GET DELETED. THIS ENTIRE WORLD IS A GAME, EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ABOVE GROUND, EBOTT, AND HERE TWICE OVER!!!" He drops you and begins ranting some more.

"Our entire existence is dependent on strings of code that we can't cut without being erased."

"SO DON'T YOU DARE GO TALKING ABOUT INSANITY TILL YA LIVED IT SISTER!"

He hyperventilates a bit before composing himself.
"I need a fucking drink," he says as he slams the door of the shop, leaving you alone.

Being yelled at, I can handle.
Being bullied and beaten I can tolerate.
But why does loneliness hurt so bad?