SanderSides Shots

Prison of Perfectness (Roman Angst)

I'm sorry that the very first thing I've written since I took my break is Roman angst... I'm genuinely sorry. I also posted this on my new-ish tumblr blog, I can share my username if anyone wants it.

Oh, I've been watching P!ATD lately, I guess I'll share one of my new favorites of their's.

Trigger Warning: self loathing and self hating

In any other scenario he could handle it himself, fighting the dragon-witch? Easy. Arguing with Virgil about everything under the sun? Easy. Ignoring Patton's puns, for the most part? Easy. Out-preforming Logan? Easy. But confronting his own feelings? That was hard, if he wasn't the perfect prince everyone knew him to be, he knew that he had no chance in the mind palace. He would have no purpose to being near Thomas's side, if he couldn't do what Thomas needed him to, if he couldn't create, then he wasn't creativity.

Without his creativity, Roman was nothing, without his creativity, he was just a waste of space. At least Virgil was Thomas's fight or flight reflex, without creativity, Roman was nothing.

Roman laid in bed feeling an empty ache take over his body, he felt this constantly, it was as if he was always injured. He felt tears rolling down his face, all of his inadequacies stung his eyes making the tears flow silently and quickly. He felt no need to wipe them, seeing as they were the only proof he needed to show himself that even if none of the things he was telling himself were true are true, which they are, they proved to him that he was weak and nothing more than a sniveling baby.

He heard a sudden, sharp knock on the door and heard Virgil enunciate though muffled, "Princey, dinner is ready."

"Okay," he said shakily, while smiling. He needed to pull on the façade again, he needed to be the cocky and narcissistic Prince Roman that the other three knew him as. Roman could not care less what that snake thought of him, the only people he needed to please were his three friends eating dinner, seeing as he could never please himself.

Roman walked to the vanity in his room and noticed that his last concealer layer had been washed off with his tears. He used a make-up removing wipe and then began to reapply the concealer and felt a mask slowly covering his face again, he didn't feel the ache leave, but acted as if he had never felt it.

Roman stood up, feeling as though he were a different person and swaggered over to the door greeting a surprised Virgil. "Let's go," Virgil said gruffly as they joined the other two at the table.

Virgil seemed more wary of Roman away from Thomas's videos, possibly seeing through Roman's utterly garbage façade, or maybe he knew just how utterly useless Roman was, either way, it made Roman's job slightly easier, but that didn't keep Patton or Logan preoccupied.

Dinner seemed to have went well, there was laughter and fun stories circling the table. The buzz could be heard from every room in the house, except Roman's. Roman gracefully bowed and excused himself from the table.

He never let the mask down in front of others, but tonight it was dangerously close to breaking, they had been talking about the previous video with Thomas and he began to realize that they were talking of a month old video, he hadn't been creative for Thomas and his friends in over a month, he wasn't doing his job, the other three had been working, but what was Roman doing?

Nothing, like what he should be.

Roman stepped into his room and noticed his smile fell, he locked his door and removed the concealer and began sobbing as quietly as he could.

I am garbage.

A tear falls.

I am not creative.

Another tear falls.

I am useless.

The tears won't stop, he's built himself a prison of perfectness, he can't let it shatter.

HE CAN'T LET IT SHATTER.

~~~~~~

I  wrote this story after I talked to a friend on Tumblr, I asked her about how she would describe Roman and got a really detailed answer and therefore had a good idea about how to finally make my own interpretation of our dear Princey. Tell me what you think.