See Me and Accept Me (a prinxiety fanfiction)

Chapter 3 - Be the cookie to my milk

After a 10 hour Disney marathon (lordy do my eyes ache), Thomas finally woke up and I was allowed to sink back into the mind. 10 hours of observing how easily the others interacted, how comfortable they were with themselves, had been fatiguing. No one else visibly struggled with staying true to themselves. Those 10 hours had just reiterated how alone I am in not only my own issues, but within my own 'social group' (what else can I call them? I mean they're not family, they're not friends, but they're not exactly strangers either).

Having entered the main space, I ambled down the corridor leading to my chamber, trying to stem the flow of nasty, mosquito-like thoughts which were gradually sucking the life out of me.

As I approached my room, I set the blue tooth speakers inside to play 'The Black Parade' album, so when I entered I was greeted with the familiar sound of Gerard Way, rocking along to the headache crashing in my brain. I crawled atop my desk to sit cross-legged – I was in one of my lowest moods, and nothing comforted me more than sitting on something which was not meant to be sat on. To make matters worse, Thomas was working up the energy to call a theatre about partaking in an audition, for which I would be needed. In my mind's eye I saw him pick up the phone, and I promised myself  I would help him to be the best he could be (dialysis stress model), but I would try not to go too far, which I was in the bad habit of doing (once again, probably a result of the fact that his own anxiety had anxiety, unlucky kid).

Upon hearing the dial tone, I begin have you warmed up? Is your voice ready? Even if it is ready let's not get our hopes up in case they reject our application.

"Hi, this is Thomas Sanders? I sent you an application for your show, and I'm calling in reply to the email you sent me?"Too formal, too formal Thomas! This is show biz, you need to come across as charming from the very start. Why weren't you charming? They're already judging you

"Ah. Yes. Thomas. We did receive your application and have taken the time to look over it" Sweat started to bead on both our foreheads, and I don't know about him, but I could feel myself shaking. But I could also feel his excitement, and I didn't want to ruin that, so I tried my best to keep my own anxiety under control, to not mix them, to do this right. Sorry Thomas but that sounds like a let-down, but they haven't turned us down directly so maybe they're just dragging out telling us you got in for the audition? Or maybe they're drawing out letting you down "And we wanted you to phone to let you know that we would love to see you at the auditions! The song we would like to hear from you is . . .".

The voice on the other end of the phone droned on, accompanied with Thomas inserting the appropriate "uh-huh" "ok" "got it". We'd done it – I hadn't screwed up, nor made over-affected Thomas. In fact, I had helped him to feel the normal, healthy dose of anxiety that Thomas would need to heighten his senses for this sort of situation - well done me. Even as I congratulate myself, it saddens me that I only get felicitations from myself, as per usual, no one else, not even Thomas, has taken the time to acknowledge my efforts. This is why I shouldn't bother.

- ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ -

So quiet that it only just wakes me, I hear a tapping sound coming from my door. My phone must be out of charge, as the music no longer plays – no suprise I fell asleep. I wonder how long I've been out for? Too lazy to get up to open the door, I shout "Just come in". The knocking stops, and I am curious to know as to whether or not the caller is nervous to come in - after all, this is The Anxiety Cave, probably full of torture weapons, and hidden traps. They must think so low of me as to be afraid to even open the door.

"Hi . . ." An apprehensive Prince comes in, looking around himself warily (like I said, hidden traps).

"It's amazing right? My room is not a torture dungeon". Prince glances up at me before looking away again, though he glimpses back again to fully apprehend that I am in fact seated on my desk.