Chapter Text
Ryan sighed heavily as he sat back in his desk chair, running his hands up his face and through his hair in frustration. He didn’t know what to do. Fuck. They’re going to be so disappointed.
Well, it had been an accident the first time. He and his siblings had always travelled to the different gaming conventions, even before he had really started his YouTube channel and became “The Masked Gamer”. It had been a reprieve from the strict atmosphere in their home life, and had quickly become a tradition among them. Ryan supposed that going to those conventions were what had originally drawn him to the idea of creating his channel almost five years ago.
When he had first started his channel, he had only done “Let’s Plays” for League of Legends, with little to no commentary. If he was being honest, he had no fucking clue what he was doing when he had first started his YouTube channel. Of course, he had learned different editing techniques over the years, and his videos had slowly increased in quality as a result. He hadn’t originally planned to keep his face from his viewers for so long, but after seeing how little privacy his friend Felix got when he had started gaining his millions of followers, he had decided that he didn’t want to have that happen to him either. And so his persona as Ohmwrecker, “The Masked Gamer” had been created.
He had enjoyed being a YouTuber, playing games with his friends and making videos- all the while being able to maintain his identity and therefore his privacy. It was nice; the most popular videos on his channel had over a million views, yet he could still walk around the streets of Chicago in peace. Besides, he hadn’t been raised in a loving household and still wasn’t sure how he would take (even his friends) expressing their affections to him if they were ever to meet him or know who he was.
His trivial fears and insecurities were no excuse, he knew, but he just couldn’t make himself show his face to his friends, no matter how disappointed he knew they were (although, they didn’t show it...at least not to his face). Ryan supposed that he was a special kind of fucked up, as he kept coming back to E3 (or the Electronic Entertainment Expo if you wanted to get technical) every year regardless, hoping that he would finally work up the courage to reveal himself to his friends; however, every single year it turned out the same, with him walking away, unable to fucking tell them the truth.
Every year he walked up to everyone and forced himself to take a photo with his dearest friends, because he owed them at least that much, even if the gamers never knew it was him. It wasn’t because this pain he was causing himself felt better than the hollow emptiness that would envelope him otherwise; no. He was fine ; his channel was doing better than ever had before- he thought he may even hit one million subscribers before the year was up if he was lucky enough.
He had absolutely no reason to feel this way, he told himself when he woke up in the middle of the night for the upteenth time. I’m fine, he told himself as he had panic attacks on the barren floor in his apartment, only feeling the cold seeping up through his bare feet and Buddy’s concerned whimpers echoing through his ears. The phrase eventually became his personal mantra; the only thing he could use to hold onto his sanity. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong- I’m fine. I have to be. He always managed to pick himself up after that, so it worked, didn’t it?
Besides, they didn’t need a friend like him, one that had deceived them for years on end. They didn’t need to know the coward that he truly was- they didn’t deserve to have his demons piled upon all of the other shit they had going on their lives. The truth was- no matter how easy it was to try to pretend otherwise- he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth their time, or their effort. He was a hopeless cause, so it was better to keep them at arm’s length then have him hurt them in the long run.
He knew that he was so fucking selfish for doing this, because didn’t they deserve to see how fucked up he really was. He couldn’t even say “I love you” to his family, for fuck’s sake. He really was a loveless monster, and his friends didn’t have to be subjected to that side of him. Besides, he didn’t need love in his life. After all, what had it ever done for him? The only being he truly cared about in his life was Buddy, and he knew that his companion didn’t have much time left regardless. Then he would be left with no one- his siblings all had their own shit to deal with, while the rest of his friends were either gone or didn’t know enough about his personal life to care. He preferred it that way, too; he had always taken care of himself well enough and didn’t need anyone disrupting that.
He picked himself off of the floor- When did I get down here? - and lumbered over to his kitchen, pouring himself some coffee that had undoubtedly already lost its warmth. His face twitched in distaste as the first bit of the bitter drink touched his tongue, but he took another swig regardless.
After all, it seemed all he lived on was caffeine these days anyways, and that was working for him too (or so he told himself). He didn’t see how unkempt his hair had become, or how his cheekbones hollowed out unhealthily, his eyes haunted and empty. All the Masked Gamer saw was his productivity with his channel and his Twitch streams, no matter the damage done to his person. Besides, he knew that his fanbase was one of the best on YouTube and he cherished them dearly, trying to show his appreciation through an increase in content.
As he choked down the last bits of the honestly revolting drink, he readied himself for another all-nighter filled with editing and maybe even a stream session if he was lucky. Besides , he reasoned with himself, I’ll be able to sleep on the plane to California tomorrow - never mind that the flight was only four and half hours long. I’ve slept less before. That was true, too. His sleeping schedule was completely fucked due to his commitment to post a video every day (and stream almost as often on top of that). He didn’t mind, though. He had gotten used to it, and it didn’t affect him as much as it had when he had first started out. Practice makes perfect, right?
As he trudged back over to his desk to begin editing his latest Garry’s Mod video, he pondered what would happen if they ever found out that ‘Ray’, the “fan” they took pictures with every year, was actually him. He shook his head at the thought- it would never happen; he would make sure of it. Because pure, good people like his friends didn’t go along with worthless monsters like him- they never had and never would. It didn’t matter, anyways. I’m fine.
-
He ended up streaming for almost six hours that night and only stopped when he could no longer ignore the sun streaming through his windows, casting a soft glow over his apartment. He turned his monitors off and leaned back in his creaking office chair, rubbing his eyes in a mechanical movement. He was honestly surprised when he practically collapsed after (attempting) to walk to his kitchen to make a sandwich he could take on the drive to the airport. His hand clenched into a fist in annoyance; he couldn’t be this weak, could he? I’m fine.
He forced himself to get up, made his peanut butter and honey sandwich before quickly brushing his teeth and hopping into his car, hoping to the fucking heavens that he wouldn’t miss his flight. His videos were queued up, so he wouldn’t have to worry about content during his four-day trip. At least his subscribers would be happy with the content while he was gone, which would make it all worth it.
He ended up boarding his plane to Los Angeles at the last minute, slightly out of breath from running across what felt like the entire fucking airport. So, gasping for air, he gave his ticket to be scanned and boarded the plane. Thank the gods I didn’t miss it.
He didn’t end up sleeping much on the flight to Los Angeles, if he was being honest with himself. It didn’t matter, though, did it? It wasn’t like he couldn’t get sleep when he got there. He’d be fine, honestly.
He trudged into his hotel room, dragging his spare bags behind him, barely able to stand up at this point. He collapsed on the bed, ignoring the oddly stained corner of the sheets- he had stayed in worse places before. It didn’t bother him anymore; luxury hadn’t ever been something he needed or desired, anyways.
“I’ll just sleep for a little while,” he mumbled to the empty room, hearing his voice echo slightly from the hollow loneliness he felt at his solitude. Hadn’t he wanted this? Hadn’t he told his friends that he simply wanted privacy and used that excuse every time the topic of his anonymity came up? Fuck, he really was pathetic. He couldn’t even admit it to himself, not even as the deafening silence of his hotel room threatened to pull him under.
He shivered suddenly, the cold seeping through his bones even though it was plenty warm from the Californian sun.
“What is wrong with me?” he voiced, nothing answering him but the slight hum of the air conditioning across the room.
He sighed in resignation as a hollow feeling manifested in the pit of his, before succumbing to a restless sleep.
-
Ryan shot out of bed, a scream ghosting his lips. He looked wildly around his room, ragged breaths ripping out of his chest- he felt like he had run a marathon. As he realized where he was, he calmed down a little, lowering himself back onto the slightly scratchy sheets.
He clenched his hands into tight fists to stop them from shaking uncontrollably, leaving crescent imprints gouged into the flesh of his palm. My name is Ryan, he told himself, trying to keep himself sane and grounded. I am known as The Masked Gamer, have a dog named Buddy and I am fine- I’m coping. His hands started shaking at his last statement- he was such a fucking liar.
He clenched his fists tighter, telling himself that he’d sort himself out later. But you always say that, don’t you, you coward, a part of him whispered, and Ryan gave into the voice, to the demons lurking inside of him.
He stared blankly at the bare ceiling above him, shaking with suppressed sobs as the tears pooled in his eyes and streamed down his face. I can’t take this anymore, he thought to himself, laying his head sideways into his lumpy pillow.
His eyes stung from the force of his self-imposed misery, yet he couldn’t find it into himself to ask for help from anyone- he had always taken care of himself and that’s the way it had always been. That was how it had to be.
A loud banging sound startled him, forcing him out of his self-loathing torment. He stumbled over to the door, opening it to a young woman dressed in ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt. She blew a bubble of gum before popping it and chewing it loudly again, looking up at him disinterestedly.
“D’ya need ya room cleaned?” She drawled, cocking her head to the side and leaning up against a cart filled with various cleaning supplies.
Ryan stared at her blearily, still feeling detached from reality- from everything . He shook his confusion off, smiling at her slightly.
“Sure, I was about to leave anyways,” he responded, purposefully injecting humour into his tone to drive her off from any concern about the inconsistencies in his behavior. He stepped back, grabbing his phone and headphones and mock saluted her as he walked out the door. Just as he rounded a corner in the hallway, he glanced back at the now empty corridor- he always felt embarrassed when people would see even the aftereffects of his occasional breakdowns. Well, his not-so-occasional breakdowns, seeing as they were happening more and more often.
A short, slightly maniacal laugh tore out of his throat unwillingly at his train of thought- he really was an idiot, because who was he kidding? He was far from fine, and he had been trying to convince himself otherwise for years. He supposed there was a bitter irony that he realized it here, the place where all of his problems had originated. Because he was such a fucking coward that he couldn’t tell them who he was; he couldn’t just let them know that he had been in front of them the entire time. Jesus, he was so pathetic.
His hands started shaking again, and he shoved them into his pockets with feverish, jerky movements, dragging his earbuds out and putting them in, not able to wait before he could finally drown his thoughts out again. Like he said earlier, he’d deal with all of this later- his idiotic insecurities didn’t matter, really. I’m fine.
He wiped the back of his sleeve across his blurring vision, feeling scared and lonely all at once, willing to do anything and everything to bite back the pain-filled tears. It felt like no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape his wandering mind.
Ryan picked up the pace, walking off towards the setting sun, set on making himself numb, until he couldn’t feel anything anymore.
-
There they were, laughing with each other- so close yet so far away. Mini had his head thrown back in a howl of laughter at something Tyler had said, judging by the tall man’s smug disposition. Evan was looking on as if he wasn’t sure whether to join the Englishman’s mirth or roll his eyes at the duo’s antics. Scotty and Marcel were hunched together with laser-focused expressions, playing rock-paper-scissors as Anthony, Lui and Arlan cheered them on in loud, over exaggerated voices that soared over the din in the large room. Brian had just arrived and was introducing Nogla to his best friend Sean. Their eyes filled suppressed laughter as Nogla face suddenly became indignant at something Brian said before they all burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching at each other in an attempt to stay upright.
Ryan’s lips lifted upwards automatically at the sight at most of his friends joking around with each other; their joy was infectious to him and for a second he forgot that he wasn’t with them. He forgot that he didn’t have the right to be with them. His eyes hollowed out at the thought, the light leaving their depths.
He shook himself of his intruding thoughts, starting over to where they were all standing. He was glad that he had arrived so early so that there wasn’t a line yet- most people didn’t start arriving at the convention until about 10 o’clock.
Mini was the first one to notice him heading towards them, greeting him with a bright smile and an cheerfully exclaimed “Hello!” Tyler and Evan followed suit, giving him their own acknowledgements.
Ryan felt lighter all of a sudden, his lips twitching upwards briefly as he asked, “Do you mind if I take a picture?”
-
Clutching the photos they had taken in his hand, Ryan walked down the sidewalk, humming to himself. He felt better for having the courage to approach them, lighter even, but the voices were still there to hold him back, to tell him that he wasn’t good enough for them and that he would only drag them down.
So what was the truth? Ryan sure as hell didn't know; just thinking about it made his heart heavy and his head hurt.
He stepped into a coffee shop, and ordered the first caffeinated drink he saw on the menu. He sat down in the corner of the café, disjointedly grabbing his cup of coffee when called, still lost in a haze of confusion. Because that was what this was really; confusing. He couldn't sort his emotions out, nor his opposing thoughts. Was he worth it? He couldn't tell; he had no idea how to even start to figure any of this out.
Shaking his head dazedly, he got up, making his way for the exit. He pushed the door open, looking down at the handle and therefore missing the person standing right in front of him.
Shit!
His head snapped up, an apology on his lips, before he realized he had just bumped into Tyler and he stumbled over his words in surprise.
“S-sorry man,” he got out, smiling in what he hoped was in a disarming way- he didn't want to bring more attention to himself then he had already.
Tyler smiled down at him- damn his ridiculously tall frame- waving off his concerns. “Nah, don't worry ‘bout it- I'm just so fucking tall that people miss me.” He chuckled at that, and Ryan was trying to find an opening to leave the situation when his giant-of-a-friend spoke again.
“Wait dude, haven't I met you before?” Tyler asked, his eyes widening in realization. Ryan almost groaned aloud- the last thing he had wanted was to bring attention to himself.
Luckily, before Tyler could say anymore on the subject the rest of their friends walked into the coffee shop. Mini made a beeline for the counter, wasting no time in indulging in his love for all things caffeine as the rest of the group piled in around them.
Ryan found himself in the middle of the smiling, laughing group of friends and was once again overwhelmed with a hollow feeling he just couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how hard he tried. What the hell was wrong with him?
A panicky feeling clawed its way up from his gut, fluttering around his chest before it tried to rip and tear its way out of his throat as he stared around him with wide, shining eyes.
“You good dude?” Tyler asked, lightly bumping his shoulder into him as his he glanced at Ryan out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah,” Ryan bullshitted, chuckling slightly to try to ease the tension only he could feel. He didn't notice Tyler’s eyes widening in recognition at his laughter, as the American played it off, shooting a crooked smile at him.
“If you say so,” he said before walking away with feigned ease, giving Ohm the space he obviously thought he needed. There would be more time to knock sense into the Chicago native’s skull later, but for now he would let him deal with whatever insecurities he had (as it was clear that Ryan was pretty fucking nervous around them). Now that he had met him, there was no way in hell Tyler would let their troubled friend stay without them.
He watched Ryan walk out the café door sadly, glancing to the side as Craig walked up to him, coffee in hand.
“That was Ohm, wasn't it?” the twenty one year-old asked as they watched Ryan’s figure fade away into the all-encompassing sunlight.
Tyler nodded, a frown marring his face. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, unable to get past the lump that had suddenly appeared. “Yeah it was.”
They turned back to their group with troubled expressions, both thinking about their friend who clearly hadn’t been alright- by any sense of the word.