first/ main story is the first 5 chapters. the rest is just random oneshots that i write every blue mf moon
ppl included:
madi
nate
matt
chris
nick
larri
arrington
& my oc? frankie
I'm not ungrateful, or at least I'd like to think that. I appreciate my friends and all their gifts to me. Today is my birthday after all.
We went out, "partied", had fun. It's not that I didn't enjoy it, but I feel so empty and bad afterwards. In the moment, I thought I would never stop grinning.
Until I entered my car and drove away from the happiness.
•••
After celebrating my birthday, I stayed at the Sturniolo house. We had went out with Nate, Larri, and Madi but they couldn't stay.
The reason of my moodiness was always due to my family, today it's the same. Somehow, they can't remember simple things like my birthday. Not even my father or sister can seem to send a text message.
That makes me sound like a brat, which might be true. But seriously, how fucking hard is it to say happy birthday?
All my friends can remember, even some that I haven't had a full conversation with in years. They still manage to open up my contact and type in a heartfelt message.
Not my dad, though.
I don't expect gifts or even a card, I just want him to show me that he cares. Apparently he doesn't, never has.
I attempted to keep up the happy act. After all, the triplets weren't the people I was upset with.
Nick seemed to notice the twinge of difference in my mood.
He asked over and over, "Are you okay?" I wanted to just cry and tell him everything.
But I didn't want to dump all of that onto him. The possibility of making him feel bad was something I strayed far from.
Their guest room was occupied by me, I resided there. Matt, Nick, and Chris were getting ready to film a new video. The time was nearing 2:00 AM.
I tried hard to fall asleep, never managed to. So much on my mind. My throat would close up but I didn't dare let a tear fall. I felt so dramatic.
•••
Nick texted me, letting me know they were coming home soon. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I desperately needed to speak to Nick or anyone. Journaling never worked for me, so I usually just talk to myself.
At this point, I felt that maybe I didn't even need a conversation. 'Just need someone to fucking hug me and tell me it's going to be alright.
I gave in and asked Nick if we could talk. Our messages felt awkward.
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•••
I heard the door swoosh behind the triplets. Car keys flung to the kitchen table. Footsteps coming towards the guest room.
