Sturniolo Triplets One Shots

Empty (Matt)

Matt Sturniolo sat alone in the dim glow of his room, the city lights filtering through the blinds. The silence was only interrupted by the steady rhythm of Empty by Chase Atlantic, which played softly in the background. The lyrics seeped into his thoughts, amplifying the heaviness he already felt. He had heard the song countless times before, but tonight, it felt like it was written just for him.
He closed his eyes, trying to drown out the noise of his own mind. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest, a hollowness that seemed to grow every time he was left alone with his thoughts. No matter how many people were around, how loud the laughter was, or how bright the lights shined, he couldn't shake the sense that something was missing.
His phone buzzed on the bed beside him, and he glanced at the screen. It was you, of course. You always knew when something was wrong, even when he hadn't said a word.
Hey, you okay? the message read.
He stared at the text for a moment before typing out a quick reply. Yeah, just tired. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. How could he even begin to explain what he was feeling when he didn't fully understand it himself?
But you weren't easily fooled. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on his door. He hesitated before answering, but you let yourself in anyway. You always did. It was one of the things he loved about you—you never waited for permission to care.
You took one look at him and frowned, concern etched across your face. Without a word, you crossed the room and sat down beside him on the bed. The warmth of your presence was a stark contrast to the cold emptiness he felt inside.
"What's going on, Matt?" you asked gently, your voice barely above a whisper.
He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. "Nothing. Just... feeling a little off, I guess."
You didn't push, but you didn't leave either. Instead, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. The simple gesture sent a wave of warmth through him, and for a moment, the heaviness lifted.
"Talk to me," you urged softly. "I know something's bothering you. You don't have to go through this alone."
Matt sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. The words of the song echoed in his mind. Tell me why the fuck I feel so empty It was like Chase Atlantic had pulled the thoughts straight from his head.
"I just... I don't know," he started, his voice shaky. "I feel like I'm not enough. Like no matter what I do, it's never good enough. For anyone... for myself."
You squeezed his hand, your heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. "You don't have to be perfect, Matt. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You're enough just as you are."
He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and doubt. It was hard for him to believe your words when he felt so empty inside. But the sincerity in your voice, the unwavering support in your gaze—it made him want to try.
"I don't know how to make it stop," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You don't have to," you said gently. "You just have to take it one day at a time. And I'll be here, every step of the way."
Matt felt a tear slip down his cheek, and before he could wipe it away, you were there, pulling him into your arms. He buried his face in your shoulder, letting the tears fall freely. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let someone else carry the weight he had been holding onto for so long.
The song continued to play, but it didn't feel as suffocating as before. Instead, it became a reminder that he wasn't alone in his emptiness. That even in the darkest moments, there was still a light, still someone who cared.
And as he held onto you, the void inside him didn't seem so deep. Maybe it would never fully go away, but with you by his side, he knew he could face it.
Because you were his anchor in the storm, the one who made the emptiness a little less overwhelming.
And that was more than enough.