One Of Us

Chapter Nine

Spending time with the other Sides had become a game of Russian roulette.

On a good day, they'd all tolerate him. Maybe Virgil would manage a chuckle at one of Patton's jokes. Maybe he'd be pleasantly surprised when Logan agreed with him rather than the others. He'd go back to his room feeling slightly less terrible than usual, then throw on a pair of headphones to keep from thinking too hard about it.

On a bad day, though, things didn't run quite as smooth. More often than not, it was Virgil who started the conflict — not that it was always intentional. Sometimes, he'd make a snide comment with the intention of egging someone (usually Roman) on. Others, he'd find himself on the verge of panic and be met with disdainful remarks rather than comfort or support. When he managed to escape the situation, it left him feeling almost empty, like nothing he did was ever really right.

Today was not a good day.

Virgil had been on edge since the moment he woke up. It was the second day of four that they'd be spending at VidCon, and he was just barely pulling through. Thomas had already spoken at two different panels — which was fine, really. That was Roman's territory. They were used to getting up in front of crowds. Today, though... today they'd be walking the floor.

Thomas had done this sort of thing plenty of times. Virgil should have been used to it by now. But all the talking and smiling and photos he'd already had to sit through were driving him into a state of alarm; he wasn't sure how much longer he'd manage to hold out.

The unexpectedness of it was arguably the worst part; while panels or meet and greets were structured (a definitive end time always helped to ease Virgil's nerves), walking aimlessly around the convention hall meant anyone could come up to say hi at any time. What if Thomas had a mouthful of food when someone wanted to talk? What if a fan took something he said the wrong way and told everyone he was a jerk? What if —

"We should leave the hotel in approximately ten minutes if we want to arrive on time," Logan said to the room at large, shaking Virgil from his thoughts. The commons around him bustled with Sides trying to get their bearings before they left for the convention.

"Where are Thomas's keys?" Patton cried as he skidded into the room.

"On the counter of his apartment," Logan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This hotel room uses a key card, which is currently in his pocket. I have told you this three times since we got here."

"Oh," Patton said. "Then I guess we're ready! Let's get moving!"

Moving toward crowds. Moving toward heat and noise and people they didn't know.

"One last check in the mirror!" Roman declared. "We can't go out looking anything less than our best with so many cameras around."

"Check all you want," Virgil muttered from the arm of the couch. "You'll never get that mess of hair to cooperate." As expected, Roman ducked toward the mirror again, and Virgil silently commended himself for delaying their departure.

"Don't go starting with all that negativity," Patton chided him. "Today's gonna be fun!"

Virgil arched an eyebrow at him from under his bangs, but Patton had already run off in a different direction to help Logan get Thomas out the door.

"We are now three minutes behind schedule," Logan observed, tapping the toe of his shoe impatiently against the carpet.

Virgil curled against the cushion behind him and stuck his hands in his pockets, wishing he could just sit today out. He didn't have the energy to try and scare everyone into submission or the will to breathe through the stress. The anticipation was already killing him.