One-shot book! (OSC)

🌸⚠️Am I Okay? (no.) (Trophy and OJ)

First of all this is pretty old and second I know I said III contestants only but I wrote this a while ago. It's pretty OOC I think lol. Enjoy ig :)

TW// Eating Disorders, SH and other possibly triggering content

Father figure OJ is just 👌👌
Summary:
Trophy hasn't been having a good day, or month, or possibly year.))

Another day, another fight. Yesterday it was with Knife, the day before it was with Salt, that day before that OJ etc etc etc. It got exhausting fast. Trophy blamed that on his sudden lack of strength when it came to exercising. Even if he knew deep down that wasn't what it was.
Trophy made his way downstairs. The scent of breakfast made him feel sick. He wasn't completely sure why. It wasn't particularly bad. It just... Wasn't right. He finally got down the stairs (because the elevator is for the weak) and was about to walk out the door when "Hey Troph!" He flinched at the sudden calling. He looked over and saw OJ from around the corner. "You wanna grab something to eat before you go?" "Nah, I'm fine." Was all Trophy said before he left the hotel. Leaving OJ behind. Slightly concerned.

Trophy went to the gym as he usually did. And found himself working out for several hours until he physically couldn't feel his legs anymore. Finally at around 2 he started the long walk home.

By the time he made it home if had started raining. So when Trophy came back he was soaked. "Trophy! Have you been working out since you last left?" "Yeah... Why?" "It's 2!" Trophy scoffed "So?" OJ walked up to him "Trophy- you can't spend the whole day exercising! That's dangero-" Trophy cut him off "I'm fine. Your not my dad." Trophy grunted as he started walking toward the stairs. "Can you at least grab something to eat?" Trophy didn't reply. He just continued his ascend up. Until finally he made it to his room. Where he planned to stay the rest of the night. He flopped down onto his bed, he'd take a shower later. Besides the rain did a pretty good job of cleaning up. He grabbed his phone from his dresser and turned it on. No one messaged him, as usual. But he did have a text from OJ. It was from last night. "Hey Trophy! Tomorrow it's your turn to do dishes. Just reminding you." Trophy let out a groan. Right. Since everyone in the hotel didn't pay rent OJ had them help out around the hotel. Even if he cleaned them Soap would just reclean them in the morning anyways... So what was the point. Tropht let out a groan. He knew he was on thin ice with OJ anyways. So he probably should. But he'd wait until later. After all he didn't want everyone to know he actually listened to OJ.

At around 1am Trophy left his room and went downstairs. It was dead quiet. He went into the kitchen. Not a soul in sight. He walked over to the sink and started washing them. The only sounds was the faucet, the rain droplets pattering against the window and the scrubbing sponge. Suddenly Trophy stopped cleaning when he picked up a small bread knife. He just... Stared at it. Thoughts dancing around his head about... Hurting himself with the knife... He had never resorted to self harm. Usually he just downed melatonin and slept... But his thoughts were becoming too much. So he took the knife and made a cut across his wrist. It felt.. lifting. So he made another. And another. He stared down at the cuts. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. But right as he was about to put the knife down he was tackled to the ground. He immediately pushed whoever tackled him off. His vision was slightly unfocused giving just enough time for the pain of his head hitting the floor to set in. He finally was able to see OJ. Staring at him wide eyed with shock in his eyes. Trophy felt shame and guilt raise in him. "I- ... sorry." Trophy stood up and grabbed the sponge. In response, OJ stood up and grabbed the sponge. Trophy looked at him "OJ I-" "I don't care about the dishes. Soap was probably going to redo them anyways." OJ sighed and grabbed Trophy's hand and led him to the table before sitting him down. He grabbed the medkit from above the fridge. Trophy felt another ping of guilt. "i- I don't need an-" "Shush." Trophy remained silent as OJ cleaned the cuts and wrapped them up. "There, now when was the last time you ate?" "...Breakfast yesterday..." "Alright than." OJ stood up and walked towards the fridge. He reached in and pulled out a thing of Tupperware. "Here. Leftovers from dinner." "I'm not hun-" "Trophy I am not letting you starve yourself. Eat." Trophy glared at OJ as he reluctantly ate. Once he was finished OJ took the Tupperware and put it in the sink. "Now go to bed. And in the morning we'll have a talk." Trophy huffed as he got up and stumbled off towards the stairs. "Trophy you can use the elevator ya know."

Trophy walked downstairs after waking up. Covering his arms using long fingerless gloves. As soon as he made it down "Oh trophy! Can we talk out front?" Trophy glanced over at OJ "uh, yeah sure." As he walked towards the door he heard murmuring. Not that he really cared. OJ and trophy went out front and went to the side of the building. "Okay, first thing first your eating breakfast." Trophy snarled "You're not my dad!" "Maybe not but your not starving yourself under my roof. And second do you have a therapist?" "Tch. No." "Than you have to start." Trophy stared at OJ for a moment. Before looking away "I don't have the money for that." "I could talk to Candle about it." "Candle is a therapist...?" "Yep. So if I get a appointment scheduled with her you'll go?" Trophy crossed his arms "Do I have a choice?" "Unless you want me to bug you all day everyday no." "Ugh, fine." "And last have a good time at the gym. But remember to take a break. Try to be back at around 11 for lunch. Ok?" "Fine." "Thank you." OJ patted Trophy's back. "It'll be okay." Before OJ walked back into the hotel. "It'll all be okay..." Those words echoed in his head. Words that he had never been told before. Not by any friends or parental figure. He felt tears start rolling down his cheeks as he struggled to get together. He managed to calm down, worried someone would see him like this. Before finally taking a deep breath and starting his walk towards the gym.

(Word count: 1148)
A/N: I've been working on their for days lol. This started out as a vent fic. Btw remember to leave suggestions on the FIRST page! Not this one!)