Invincible | l.m. (FaZe Clan)

Chapter Fifteen

Song of the Chapter: Therapy Session by NF

(small trigger warning for the audio: mentions self-harm and abuse)

○ Peyton Baron ○

"So how is it?" Rose asks me as I take a bite of my burger. I shrug. "I can't really say considering I rarely eat fast food." She laughs. "Don't talk with your mouth so full, you'll choke." I do my best to chew and swallow my food.

"So, what kind of videos do your roommates make?" She asks, munching on some fries. "They switch between regular... vlogs and Call of Duty videos." Rose huffs.

"So they're those type of guys, huh? Do they eat Doritos and drink Mountain Dew?" I tilt my head. "That's kind of a specific question. Apex likes Doritos and they mostly drink energy drinks." Rose stares at me blankly. "You don't... Hun, I was stating a meme."

It was my turn to stare at her. Now's not the time that I need to look like an idiot in front of a potential best friend. "Oh! Okay!" I smile, nodding. "You have no idea what a meme is, do you?"

"Nope!" I shake my head. "It's basically an internet joke that can be implied to any situation to make it funny, no matter how terrible it is. That, or it's just a reoccurring joke on the web. So stuff like... "MLG 360 No-Scope" or "I have crippling depression"." I scrunch up my nose.

"I don't see how that's funny." I say, squinting. Rose takes a deep breath. "I have... a lot to teach you."

"I'm sure everyone has a lot to teach me about millennial culture." Rose stares at me again, this time in awe, except it's more like, "I can't believe you're actually real" awe.

"You talk like you're thirty years old." She tells me. "I know, I know. I never spent much time around people my age. I was in college at 14 and my only friends were the professors." I hear a huff from Rebel. "And you, Rebby."

"Whoa... 14?" I nod. "I had lived in a psychiatric hospital a couple years beforehand. While doing classes there, they found that I was abnormally smart so they tested my IQ. It was 178. To put it into simpler terms, that's around Einstein's IQ." She looks at me, shocked.

"Holy shit. Your brain is diesel." I furrow my brows. "I'm just gonna agree with you and say yes it is. It's part of the reason no one would hang out with me because I was constantly saying different facts and correcting people."

"Well, just know, we'll be happy and good as long as you don't correct me. I hate that shit. Unless it's something that really needs correcting, like, if I state a wrong fact or something." I bring my hand up with my index finger raised, flicking it to point at her. "Noted. I will make sure to try and control myself."

I finally get fed up. A lady from a booth near our table keeps making faces and shit at Rebel. At first, I just wanted to ignore it but it's really starting to piss me off.

"Ma'am, can you please stop?" I ask her. She looks at me. "Your dog is just so beautiful." She replies, as if that made it okay. "Thank you, but I'd prefer it if you didn't make faces at my dog. He's working."

"But I'm not touching him." The sheer ignorance. I take a deep breath.

"Doesn't matter if you're touching him or not. You're obviously trying to get his attention and you can't do that. If you wouldn't distract a police officer or a doctor from doing their job, you shouldn't distract my dog from his. He has to be in tune with me at all times. It's against New York law to interfere with a service animal's job and it's considered a class B misdemeanor. So please stop." The woman huffs, rolls her eyes, and turns back to her menu.