Damaged

The beginning

His phone was ringing in the living room. He could hear it, but he refused to move. This was the last few hours of an empty house he would get for decades so his eyes remained firmly glued to the monitor in front of him. It finally rang out and silence enveloped the house again. Only moments of the welcomed silence had passed when the ringing began again. Sighing loudly, he dropped his controller onto the desk and sloped out of the ring to go and answer the seemingly urgent phone call.

Sweaty palms, shaky nerves and scrunched up fists were the new normal in Joe's life. His whirlwind number of years on YouTube were coming to an end and he had, in some moment of stupidity, decided that his career needed a change. And here he was, his third day of rehersals for Strictly Come Dancing, where he was finally meeting the pros that had the impossible task of giving his uncoordinated and sparrow like legs some form of rhythm. He was about to meet the woman that would be contractually obligated to spend hours of her life with his sorry little arse. 'Poor her' where the only words echoing through his mind as his heart began to beat faster, knowing this was what the last few weeks of auditions, signing contracts and investing in sport gear was leading up to.
Suddenly, the door was swung open and pro by pro, the real stars of strictly come dancing filtered into the room, clearly eyeing up the new, shit scared celebrities before them. There was a short woman, and a man with lots of muscles, and a red headed woman, and another man with lots of muscles, and a tall woman with blonde hair and you've guessed it, another man with lots of muscles. Never, in all of his life, had he felt so out of place. The imposter syndrome that had plagued him for years as he was described as a celebrity or internet sensation or even just a YouTuber had just become infinitely larger. How had the uncool, animation obsessed boy all the way from Lacock found himself on a major BBC programme, expected to dance in front of millions?

The days and weeks all began to merge into one as August flew by in a whirlwind of nerves, dance routines and the occasional rhinestone whilst having his opening show's costume designed. August 31st quickly rolled around and he found himself waking up in between his once white, now distinctly orange sheets dreading what the day had in store. He pulled himself out of bed, took a quick hot shower before making his way down the stairs and into the living space. Where Byron was, by some miracle already awake and eating breakfast in front of the TV. Joe just nodded at his roommate, knowing that Byron's brain rarely functioned more than a nod before midday at the earliest, before proceeding to grab himself a bowl of coco pops, a little Friday morning treat in hope of it settling the nerves.
He felt strange, he didn't really feel excited like he should do, nor did it feel like this was really happening to him and most of all, he couldn't believe that by this evening, he'd know who he would be spending every working day with for at least the next month. All of this felt too much for him to handle.
All Joe's brain could do was remember the last woman he had ever spent this volume of time with and the unfortunate way that had abruptly ended.
Shaking his head to rid it of such dreadful and unhelpful thoughts, he gathered up his breakfast bowl and placed it in the dishwasher, then plodded back upstairs to grab his bag, phone, dance shoes and camera. He then plodded back down the stairs, grabbed a cereal bar for the journey, ordered an Uber and tried to remember how to breath normally.
'Well Joseph, this is it.' Was all he though as he swung the door shut behind him after shouting some form of good bye to Byron.