TROLLS-- While Foundations Crumble (A Clay Fanfiction)

Forgetting...

I'm backkk???

Idk i wrote this cuz i wanted to write something lol. I missed my boy Clay tho.

All my morals have completely crumbled. Or have they?

I don't know. I'm so confused.

My motto used to be, "Be True To Yourself, Never Let Someone Change Who You Are."

But what if I changed who I was myself?

After that promise I made to Viva, I knew I couldn't keep being a goober anymore. I mean, I hadn't been one in a while, if I'm going to be honest, but I refused to be called The Fun Boy any longer. My friends needed me.

My friend. Singular, I guess.

Once I found the small corner that I was going to live in, I decided that everything that was behind me would stay that way. My hair was starting to become green at the roots, and maybe, if I let it grow out a certain way, it'll start to look different.

I wasn't very good at different hairstyles, and John Dory was usually the one who brushed my hair anyway but--

Maybe if I just let it grow free, without doing anything. That could take care of itself.

I looked at a sharded piece of glass, staring at my reflection. My vest was yellow. Bright yellow. Slowly, making sure no one was watching, I took it off. Vests were the classic boyband thing, especially when it came to BroZone. John Dory was all about the vests. He'd claim it was what made us the men, whatever that meant. I smiled as I remembered Branch, always begging to have a vest of his own, and Floyd offering to get him one before John Dory cut him off.

"Branch, you don't seem to realize that you don't just buy a vest. You earn it!" John Dory stood tall proudly, hand to his chest like he was about to say the Pledge of Allegiance. "You must become a man to earn it, and it is impossible to become a man until you get one thing."

"What?" Bitty B asked.

John Dory ripped open his vest, revealing tons and tons of teal green hair on his chest. "Chest hair, BB. Tons of chest hair."

"Oh, come on, man," Spruce said, walking up to him. "First, you didn't get those until about a year ago, and second, everyone knows their fake." He ripped off the glued hair and held it up away from his older brother.

"Heyy!! Give that back, it cost me two months of chore money!!" John Dory groaned, trying to take it from him.

Clay shook himself awake from his flashback and frowned at himself.

How was he ever going to move on if he had these constantly?!

Clay took his vest and dumped it into the fire that he had made nearby a couple minutes before. "Goodbye forever. Good riddance."

As soon as the action was done, he regretted it. What was he going to wear now? Walk around shirtless?

Clay sat down and thought for a while, surprised and frustrated when sometimes he found a tear rolling down his cheek. Angrily he would wipe it away. 

He needed to figure out a clothes situation. There was no way he was walking up to Viva like this. He had no muscles to show off. It was always something his brothers had--

Clay rubbed his palm against his forehead. He had to stop thinking about them. If John Dory hadn't been a total brat, they still might have been together now. He had been through more than he knew he had deserved, and now he literally had nothing except a princess and a million helpless trolls to please.

This time, he didn't stop the tears from falling.

If he ever saw John Dory, he would give him a piece of his mind. He would do whatever he could to tick him off, maybe even...

Clay's eyes widened. Tick John Dory off. Something that would always tick him off was whenever Clay attempted to learn to sew with their grandma. He knew a few things here and there, and whatever he couldn't do, he was sure Viva could pick up again.

Another thing that made John Dory go crazy was rompers.

As a kid, he would always run through the door, give a loud groan of annoyance, and complain to everyone how some kid weirdo of the village was wearing a romper.

"It's so out of style and hippie! Guys don't do hippie! It's gross!" John Dory shouted to no one.

"They don't look that bad," I said, shrugging.

"And this is why I choose all of our clothes for our shows," John Dory said, glaring at me. "Vests are the cool thing nowadays. Why can't anyone see that?!" And he'd stamp out of the room.

"It's a phase," Grandma always said. "He'll grow out of it." She chuckled.

I grinned to myself and began to dig through my hair. There must be something in there.

Ah ha! I pulled out some green yarn and needles. I was always a stickler for having the most random things in my hair. Just in case.

I looked around for some extra accessories, maybe to spice things up a bit. I found some things here and there, and when I was ready, I stood in front of my glass-shard mirror again.

"Now, just to find a place to change." I grinned. I looked around and quickly found it. A supposedly small shack that suspiciously looked like a port-a-potty.

It wasn't though.

I think.

I decided to fix it up a bit. I moved my piece of glass in there, sat on the seat that was in there already (how fortunate!) and began to sew.

After finishing this in a few hours, I would tell Viva the places that I would want to put fire exits, and then figure out the financial crisis's that I knew we'd probably face in the future, all stuff I've always wanted to ask John Dory about when it came to our band and studio.

And I'd ask it in a very manly and mature way as well.

As I continued to sew frantically into the night, I reminded myself: this isn't for fun. This is serious. That fun and silly boy was out of the way. I was only doing boring stuff now.

And I mostly believed it.

I think.