Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Since today is Mateo birthday, he would’ve been 26 years old, according to my calculations. Yk i wonder what his life could’ve been after September 5th. Would he be married to Rufus? Would they have a house together? Would they have a kid or maybe more? Would he look like an actual 26 year old, maybe look like his father more? What he would he said if he saw the world now? Would he have been nervous about being 26? How would he have spend his 26th birthday? Would Rufus be nervous to give Mateo his gift? Would Rufus propose on that day? I’ll never know. WE’LL never know. That’s not something to be mad about, yes it’s a bittersweet thought knowing we’ll never know what the life of Mateo Torres, JR. could’ve been at 26, but at least we got to hear his story even if it was his end day story.

Chapter Text

MATEO TORREZ
Death-Cast did not call Mateo Torrez because he isn’t dying today, also because
Death-Cast isn’t around to tell him. In this universe, Mateo Torrez will never hear someone else say: I regret to inform you that sometime in the next twenty-four hours you’ll be meeting an untimely death.

A buzzing noise was clattering my thoughts, my hands were sweating, and fidgeting with each other. I can’t mess this up for everyone; they all worked many hours to finally finish this gig.

“ok, Mateo, all you need to do is pose well and follow our instructions”, he said, voice blunt and bored. I look at him, my photographer in this project, who may or may not have been editing my body to look nothing like the real body I have. I nod to him. I feel bad for him, for everyone. They need to work with someone who didn’t have the ‘model body’. I wonder if they cringed when they needed to take pictures of me, wishing they had gone with someone else for this project. I shake my head, no, I need to be grateful I even landed this job. Dad needs money more than anything now; he can’t do it himself, so it’s up to me.
I look around, seeing everyone working on the set for the photoshoot.

Relax, Mateo…It’s ok if you aren’t doing anything while everyone is doing their jobs perfectly and swiftly. You don’t look like a kid who's waiting for their dad to tell them what to do.

Deep breaths. I inhale, wait a few seconds, 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. then exhale.

My palms still feel sweaty, but at least I’m okayish.. at least you’re doing better than old Mateo, you worked hard to not go back to online life and not stay at home just because you’re scared of million possible deaths just by stepping a single foot outside.

I waited for someone to tell me to get ready. I can’t go up and immediately go. What if they think I’m rushing or too impatient? What if they start making rumors about that in the industry, and I'll be known as someone who can’t take a breather? What if they think I’m a know-it-all?

Finally, someone came up to me.
“Mateo? The dresser is ready, clothes are already there, if you
need help, just ask, alright?”. I smiled nervously, “Oh, and one more thing, once you’re done, come to me, I'll be doing your makeup.” I wanted to at least say something so it wouldn’t be awkward, but she left before I could even say thank you. I sighed, it’s ok, I was just too slow.
Next time, for sure.

The walk to the dresser wasn’t that long, it had the same boring white walks I’be always see when I walk here.
The dressing rooms give heart attacks. A single GENTLE push could make it sound like you just gave birth and badly need to use the restroom. The room had empty hangers except for one, which I assume is the clothes for this photoshoot. I look at my reflection. My shoulder, my waist, my curls, my glasses, everything about me doesn’t seem like a model.

Maybe if I start doing different things to my body? Maybe my diet?... maybe I'll try the ice cube diet.. Maybe.. Maybe…

I look in the mirror again, I’m nothing like the pictures show.

I paused. What am I even thinking about? I SHOULDN’T think about this now, I need to get ready for the shoot. The silence became more clouded, more suffocated, like I did something I wasn’t supposed to. Like a taboo.

I feel exposed. I stare at my legs hoping the shorts will magically transform to long shorts. Why are they so short? Couldn’t they just edit the shorts to be shorter in the editing process so in the photo shoot I could have comfortable very good length shorts? Why make me wear this when they going to edit everything of what makes me? These shouldn’t even be called shorts! The shirt isn’t helping either.. its just a random brand blue shirt, problem is it’s real tight, you can see the outline of my stomach. I hate it, I looked in the mirror. My body changes at every angle.. Even the mirror can’t show the real me, I don’t even know how does the real me look like. I scan myself before I landed on my shoes, there the only thing I like from this
outfit. I pause, zone out, and then frowned. I shouldn’t be so rude.. people made this, spent hours thinking and making it. It’s not their fault I’m overthinking, nobody fault but mine..

I gotta keep my act together.. just a few more pictures than I’ll go visit Dad! I grab my clothes on the floor and finally went out of room.

I look around, I sometimes pull down my shorts whenever I see someone. I finally found the nice lady for the make up. I walked closer like a kid who’s walking in the school office for something small.

“Hi.. I’m ready”, I called out, hopefully not weirdly at all. She smiles at me, “Alright, love. Sit right here and I’ll work on you. You’ll be in good hands!”. I nodded, sheepishly sitting down. I didn’t know what to do, i took off my glasses, i sat there as she did her magic. The photographer and the assistants of the tech seem so serious and blunt it makes me freeze, but the make up artist and designers that check if i have the right outfit seem so nice to me. It’s opposite professionalism ig.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ (doing this so y’all know when i do time skips)

The shoot was ok. Not like i was about to cry and wish i never had the body i was born with. The way the photographer was looking at me, i didn’t like it one bit. I hate the shots angle of my legs and body. Ik that’s what they’re supposed to take pictures of but the way they handle it was awful.

Im in the dressing room, seeing the white walls made me suffocated. The vibe of the room was similar to the environment of the shoots. I’m changing back to my own clothes, my hands shake as my vision turns blurry. Fuck.. I’m crying. I need to get out. Faster the change, the a faster i can see Dad. I avoid seeing the mirror, if i see it I’ll probably vomit just by seeing my body, a reminder on what i lack.

I guess my body isn’t cooperating now since im staring at my build.

I scan,scan,scan,scan,scan.

I see flaws, i see wrongs, i see lacks. My breathing starts to be harsh and hard to even breathe normally. My whole body shakes, my head spins making me crotch on the floor. I touch the cold dirty floor, the texture of it brings me to a balance a bit but not quite to snap me out of my distortion of a body.

I gasped for air, i place a hand to my chest. Patting it so my heart can be in a steady rhythm. I didn’t care when tears fell down, standing my shirt and the floor. I just wanted to be alright. That’s all i want..

After long long minutes, i finally calmed down. My breathing was ok, my tears were dried, my hands didn’t shake violently no more.

I grab my phone, i stop to see the black screen. It showed my broken state, i look at the distorted mirror of the dressing room. My eyes were puffy, my nose red, my cheeks were covered with dried tears. I look like a mess but for some reason this mess doesn’t make me want to vomit.

I look back at my phone, i looked at the time. Visiting hours were almost over. I definitely want to see Dad after all this.. i have to clean myself up tho. Even if Dad is asleep i still don’t want him to see like this. I read that it’s a possibility that people in comas can hear you and feel your touch when you hold their hand, i don’t want Dad to force himself to wake up, ill be waiting for as he wants to.

I wiped my tears with my sleeve, i have to buy tissues for my nose.. i don’t want to wide it with my sleeve, it makes my noise hurt… and i need cold water for my eyes so they don’t look too puffy.. I’ll stop by the bathroom. I stood up, the mirror has seen me be disgusted of myself, sad of myself, and other stuff between that. Now it’s witnessing my redeem of myself. Kinda.

I like the outfit i have, it was baggy. No body tight insight. I’m not over excessive with the whole baggy thing, i just like clothes that thought hang too tight that it shows the outline of my body or makes me turn blue from suffocation. I smile as i look at my sweater, the sweater is from Dad, technically. Sometimes steal his clothes whenever i miss him. The pants i got them as a Christmas present and were too big for me, i have to put a belt around it. I really wish the gigs i accept use this kind of clothes for me instead of tight clothes and revealing clothes.

I walked out of the room, hopping to not bump into many people. I’m happy this the final time i do a project with the photographer and the group helping him, minus the make up people. The lady and her team were super nice.

I finally made it to the bathroom, nobody was here. Thats great, now people won’t give me stares or ask me what happened.

I grab the paper towel and blow my noise, i did it multiple times until my nose was clear. I turn on the water from the faucet, i splash the water to my face. The cold water hitting my face, it made feel like it gave me a reality check. My main focus was my eyes. I tried not to splash that much. After i was done, i dried myself and got out of the bathroom.

I look at the time, i really hope i can see Dad today..

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Hi dad..” i say quietly, i finally made it to his hospital room. His heart monitor beating regularly and calm, nor response to my hi. It’s been like that for two years.. I’m positive Dad will wake up, i just have to wait when he does.

“Today was hectic.. i did the usual today, I’ve missed you. How was your day?”

No response, just the heart monitor. He would ask “why the word hectic, Mi Hijo?” I would tell him why, he’ll comfort me. I’ll sleep in his arms like always. He’ll tell me how his day was at work and silly little stories that happen in work, some fake ones to make himself sound cool as i laugh and tell him “Mentiroso”. Those always cheer me up, I’m planning to tell him all the stories that happen to me. I’ll tell some happy ones, stressful ones, tired ones, yearning ones. Whatever one that made him look at me like I’m infant again and tell me, I did well when he went so sleep for two years.

I laugh looking down at the sweater, “i stole another sweater of yours, they kinda fit me now.. two years ago this would’ve been wayy too big for me.. it still does kinda.. it still does..” i look down, i try not to cry. I don’t cry for a second time today, but it’s hard… without him. I was so afraid of leaving the house, the fear became worse after Dad went into coma.

“Uh..” my voice cracked a bit, “i should go, Dad. I have to take a shower and do my stuff then call Lidia. I’ll tell her how you been”

I stood up and got closer to Dad. His sleeping form was a repeating calm state, i kissed his forehead. “Te duermas bien, Pa”

“I love you from here to there”.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I finished my shower, after visiting Dad. Somehow i feel better than how i felt in the shoot. Lidia couldn’t call today because she needed to do something with Penny, i texted her, ‘i hope it goes well☺️’.

I put down my phone as it vibrated, i didn’t need to look to know it was Lidia.

It was time to do my daily routine, this routine became a habit after Lidia force me to do her skin care routine since her place had no power and Penny was not great in hot humid weathers. Tho, i don’t go through all of her steps.. too much wanting to itch my face when she does those face mask and nose strips for hours on end.

I pause in the middle of putting moisturizing cream. I don’t get it.. i can’t fully look at my self in the mirror when i go to photo shoots and don’t have someone to talk to after those. I have a hard time to even stare for a second, but today since i talk to my Dad i can fully look at myself without wanting to cry, tremble, or vomit. This always happens, it always random too. Like i can talk to someone im comfortable with but if they talk anything about model features or anything like that then i can’t look myself in the mirror.

All of this making my head hurt, i decided to continue putting the cream.

I feel good, im fresh out of the shower, i talk to dad, no thoughts of the photo shoots, no bad thoughts of my reflection. I ate my left food from yesterday, which i almost completely forgot about until my stomach growled.

I was finally parting ways with the bathroom, idk how Lidia and penny could stay hours in the bathroom. I already feel drain from doing after shower routine. I’m gonna lay down…

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Chapter Text

RUFUS EMETERIO

Death-Cast did not call Rufus Emeterio because he isn’t dying today, though someone might call the police on him if he snaps at a certain person.

“I won’t retake the picture, it came out great. We got the shot we needed” I said for the million fucking time in the span of these 30 MINUTES. I grip the camera, I looked down on it. Will it break if I hit someone with it? Probably..

“No you have to! I look complete wrecked! I don’t look like this with my other gigs! You need to edit it like they do. The advertising will flop if you made this official. People want to feel good with the product. How tf are they going to feel that when they see my pictures!?” The already beautiful model I’m working with says, i never bother remembering their names, their pictures will do the remembering for them. Though at the moment Im going to call them, Whiny Bitch.

I don’t get why we have to argue about literally fucking distort someone image just so they can feel better about themselves. It doesn’t matter how many people complement them, they never feel satisfied. They think they care about what others think, but truth is they need their own approval to feel beautiful. That’s no poet shit, it’s a real fact. People just don’t realize it.

This is why i sometimes hate social media. People and even KIDS start to self-doubt themselves just cause they think they don’t measure to the standard they want for themselves. I’ve met beautiful goddess, surprisingly yes Ik, but they doubt themselves because they like someone appearance than compare that appearance to themselves. Its sickening.

“You look fine, I’m not going to edit it drastically, alright? I’ll probably edit the lighting and that’s it. Besides if you really are a model, you should already have a massive influence on people just by looking at your picture on anything, hell maybe even on a dildo while I’m at it. Plus this is MY SPECIALTY, you might be the model but i pull the strings on how it gets captured on screen”, I really hope this won’t be big ass problem just because I don’t want to show everyone false fantasies. Maybe i gotta add more truth to the conversation before it becomes a whole court issue. “You look wonderful like the model you are, I’m not going to deny it. You don’t need any more editing to make you look like inhumanly beautiful”

I looked at them, they finally calmed down, nobody was in the room with us because we were in my office, double good points for me. No court drama. I can tell they want to say more and i can tell im not ready for another cuss. Not that it was cuss out, just maybe a breakdown of insecurity shit.

I can see their lips tremble, they don’t make eye contact with me. I bit back a sigh, I’m not sure how long this is going to go for. Maybe i should get uber some food. Chicken strips… chicken… fried chicken… my chicken food thinking was interrupted by the now overwhelmed model, “you don’t get it..”

Their tone harsh, their hands were tight up to a fist. I can tell they can’t form a proper one, before i can say anything they just walked out.

I stare at the ceiling. Maybe i was too harsh, ik im a lil too much with body images, with reality, with vulnerability.. but i can’t comfort people just so they can say ‘no i look like shit’. I’m not trying to be mean or be a bitch. Ik some people truly don’t see their beauty, some pretend they don’t see their beauty for others to complement, some genuinely think the modern beauty standard is key.

I look back at my desk, my camera laying where i left it. I grabbed it, and look at the pictures. I don’t get the mindset people have for bodies and beauty standards. What if they were the most gorgeous person but was an asshole? They should focus on personality too if they going to keep worrying about their appearances.

I scan the pictures i took of the model, all of them look real to me. I look for flaws or anything that shows the ugly abomination model. Either i need glasses and a whole lot of vision checks and my work as photographer should be held hostage or the model is really insecure. Honestly, cruel choice but i think it’s the second one.

I remember the first time I ever body edited someone. It was for a project about sport shit like water bottle and clothes. The main person of this whole project wanted me to photoshop the model, and so i did. I needed the money so i couldn’t deny the task. I wish i did, no money will burry the guilt i saw  of people talking about how they looked at the model and saw themselves in the mirror, thinking they should just stop eating. After that i stop taking gigs like that and made sure i can do whatever the hell i want to the projects.

🎐⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ (look ik these doesn’t fit Rufus  aesthetic shit but i love these lil cute emojis so much pls spare me💔)

I edited the photos, they didn’t come out bad. I did as i promise. I only edited the background, shaded. I never once touch the model body to edit to be bigger or better, leaving their body as it was.

My phone vibrates violently, the Plutos are probably off from work. Probably asking who’s gonna cook today. I hope it’s not me…im too fucking lazy to cook.

  [The Plutos🧌]

Tahoe🦅💥

Who’s turn is it to cook

Cause ik my ass isn’t gonna do two nights of making dinner again

I literally had diarrhea 😭

Mal🦶

Stfu

Wtf do we even have in that fridge?

We seriously need to stop buying junk shit or else we gonna be more than big backs

Tahoe🦅💥

Your ass cheeks 🖕

Mal🦶

Hoe

Has roof gotten a turn of cooking dinner?

This is racist af, what happened to diversity in this unfair household?

Tahoe🦅💥

I believe he hasn’t done any dinner making these past weeks🤓📊

I groaned, i really don’t want to cook, but it’s fair since Malcom and Tagoe been doing their turns. I still have rights to complain tho.                

[The Plutos🧌]

                           Why tf are y’all deciding shit without me?

Mal🦶

It’s calle fairness mf

We literally sign a paper for this

I chuckle a bit, that piece of paper was framed in the living room as proof we all agreed to be fair roommates and if we have a argument we’re all going to couple counseling sessions so we can make it the therapist problem too.

Tahoe🦅💥

That’s right

Your ass ain’t gonna be excuse for these rotation turns

  Fuck yall btw im gonna choose what i cook, not what you stupid mfs want

Starve, if y’all don’t like it

Tahoe🦅💥

I would like to put in a request☝️

                                                  Eat shit

Tahoe🦅💥 sent a video

Mal🦶

Tagoe I’m gonna jump your ass

How tf did you find this shit?

Mental health fr

I’m gonna sign you up

I was gonna click it but Malcom just saved me a non payed advice not to. I put my phone in my pocket and started to put my stuff in backpack.

I look at the time, it’s 2:46 PM, i don’t like working after 3 PM, if i have important work, I’ll do it at home. It’s crazy to think i have my own studio for my work and me, even have an assistant whose work is a questionable.

🎐⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I decided to make Mac and Cheese. Easy. Simple. Malcom taking a shower, i heard Tagoe bang the door and said slurs cause he really needed to go.

“I hate it when he hogs the bathroom, he’s just showering”, Tagoe said with annoyance as he walked to the kitchen counter, “i seen his dick before, it’s not like I’m gonna stare as i pee, that’s gay af” he paused, silent in the air. “Not your gay yk?, it’s ok, be who you are”

I rolled my eyes, i can’t believe we can’t be normal roommates but again I’ll probably miss this random weird shit, “you should know he hogs the bathroom once he showers. Plus it’s gonna be weird if you piss while he showered, that’s just gross. You know when you flush it slows down the shower water too”

I can already feel Tagoe lifting a brow. He didn’t made a comment tho. There was only a silent between us. It’s not bad silent, it’s silent cause we either both zone out or have nothing to talk about.

🎐⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I finally finished the Mac and Cheese, Tagoe was the first one to serve himself. I murmured “Big back”, he scoff and laugh.

“Don’t call me a big back just cause I’m the first one, i just prioritize my stomach first than y’all”

I shake my head, we both sat in the couch. We don’t have a dinner table cause the kitten and sofa are in one room, we tried to have a dinner table but it just took up a lot of space. Instead we got a coffee table.

Malcolm join us a few minutes later, “Did we ever finish Manifest?” He said, he was looking at random shit in TV as he ate. “Nah i think Rufus got mad at the love triangle” Tagoe responded.

I sighed hard, “I hate it so much, the cop guy was good then he turned bad and THEN he fell for another girl then he went to the blond after her husband died? Like tf make it make sense”

Tagoe snickered, “Team Edward or Team Jacob flashbacks”, Malcolm laughed with his mouth full. Gross… but It’s nice to chill with them like this. After the whole thing with the model, shit just been down for me.

Even if they’re dumbasses, they just get me. They don’t force me to say my feelings, they just shrugged and help me pass through it. Ofc if it’s some shit that’s messing the whole orbit down, then will confront me.

Chapter Text

MATEO

I’m pacing around the apartment,

murmuring about reasons to tell Lidia how about she doesn’t check my gig photos this time. It’s been a few days and it got published.

I don’t want her to loose hope every time she sees the obvious body editing my photos have. She always gets upset and tells me it’s not fair. Ik it is but i can’t do anything about it.

Truth is i haven’t even seen it either, i don’t want to see what they did to my body. I feel like I’m gonna stare at it multiple times and then stare at the mirror for hours to see those lack flaws they edited. One thing for sure is that i don’t even need to look at the photos to know they edited me. They do it every time….

All i see is The inhuman me.

Inhuman.

Inhuman.

INHUMAN.

I keep checking my hands to see if they’re trembling, every check provokes it. I need to calm down, she’ll know… i don’t want her to worry..

I feel my throat fighting as tears threaten to spill. I can’t… cry. Not right, not ever. My throat tightens harder. I look around, trying to find an escape that Ik ain’t there. I gulp, i can already feel the nasty liquid in my noise trying to come out.

I grab tissues, after cleaning my nose, i went to the freezer and grab a single cube of ice and a cloth. I then went to the restroom. I look at my eyes, puffy with massive red coloring them. It’s obvious I wanna cry. I took off my glasses, gently putting them on the counter. I put the ice in the cloth and put it close to my eyes.

The cold and wet water speared around my eyes. Making me want to pull it away from the sudden sensation. I grumbled, it always felt so cold on my hands like frostbite even with the cloth holding it.

(Pls don’t use just straight up use ice directly to your eye, it can cause irritation. Just use a cloth and put the ice there or get an ice pack. Only do this if your eyes are dry, if you got allergies, eye strain, and puffiness. I’ve used this for puffiness and eye strain. Works pretty well)

Ive used this technique back when i did therapy for fear and anxiety of going out of the apartment. Back when i wanted to hide my puffy eyes. Back when i was worse with crying. Back when I just hated the same question being asked.

Why are you crying? Ms. Shall, my old therapist, never said it in a harsh tone, didn’t force an answer out of me.

Sometimes I’ll tell the truth, sometimes i’ll make obviously lies. Sometimes i just got tired of giving answers. I wasn’t trying to rude, i just couldn’t with the same question.

It’s been about 10 mins, i drop the ice in the sink and put the cloth in beside it. I look closely at my eyes. They seem a bit ok, i splash water on my face then dried.

I walked out of the bathroom, i just realized… What time is it? I quickly pulled out my phone, it’s 10:27 AM.

That’s good, very good actually. Lidia will come around 12 AM before picking penny from daycare.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I decided to distract myself, instead of spiral to the same thoughts all over again. It’s no used to panic on something that keeps happening and make my situation worse.

Lately, I’ve been watching kitten videos! The lil bean paws are so cute, the kittens gentle but tired face just seem so precious.

All these videos make me wonder what would it be like to have company with a cute kitten. Dad, for one, i think would be overjoyed. He’s always in awe by tiny creatures. I think it’ll be a great gift for the both of us, but I’ll probably have to wait till he wakes up and has enough strength.

I look at the time, 11:30 AM. Lidia should be here, i let out a relief sigh.

I’m ok, I’m fine, I’m good.

I check my hands, this time the checks don’t provoke trembling.

I smile, maybe this time, the results will be different.. maybe the disconnection between the model and me won’t be there no more, maybe Lidia reaction will be different.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It’s now 11:56 AM. Lidia will be coming in a few minutes, after all that panicking earlier i don’t feel very paranoid.

I grab some snacks from the cabinet, and sat on the couch as i placed the snacks on the coffee table. I wonder if she was close, I decided to text her.

Lidia🫶

you already coming?

Yeah

I’m just walking to your apartment

I whispered ok like she could even hear me, i walked to my door. Unlocking it, i was waiting till i heard her footstep to open the door.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Oh sweet! You got the snacks ready” Lidia said as she walked in. Already eyeing the snacks.

“Yeah, i decided to pull them out already. How was work?” We both sat on the couch, i was started to think my nervous were pulling pranks on me now since i can already feel them making a bad pit in my stomach.

“Eh lame as usual.. enough about me! You excited to see your sexy self in the photos?” Lidia said excitedly, smiling wildly. I laugh a bit. Embarrassed, still feeling the bad pit growing bigger in my stomach clutching harder.

“Lidia i think you’re exaggerating a bit with this new gig i finished”. She always flattered me when my photos came out, even if they were all.. different every time, even with the same old body of mine.

She looked at me like i said something offensive, i can already tell she was going to give me a lecture.

Chapter Text

RUFUS

It’s been a few days since the gig, after i edited the pics and send them to the uppers. They said it was good and gave me my paycheck.

No feedback, no fake ass smiles, just straight to cold business.

It’s been like for that for years. I’m sick of it, kills my whole mood down.

I groaned as i lay on my bed, still in my work clothes cause im too fucking lazy to change. I lay there, zoning out.

Is this how the rest of my career will be? Same routine? same cold boring shits pics of products? Seems pretty lame ngl. I look at my abandoned backpack from a few minutes ago.

Now that i think about it. When was the last time i ever taken photos personally? Not by someone else’s project or product?

I stood up and walked towards my backpack. I pulled out my camera. I stand there for a bit.

Not rushing to see the results of pictures, not sighing automatically from rapidly pushing buttons, not scanning thousand times before deciding anything.

Just letting my hands feel the camera, for once not for dollar making reasons.

I walked towards my window, moved aside the curtain and looked outside. I aimed my camera to whatever caught my attention.

Tall ass buildings, the sky, the sun, the clouds, people who like ants from down there.

I finally decided to take pictures of the scenery, which was basically everything i saw.

I stop to look at the pictures. It wasn’t what i expected.. they look cold. Bored even. No thoughts in those shots.

Eighteen year old me had better pictures and they were all captured in my phone. They were black and white because i used to view the world like that. Those pictures had some sort of emotions scattered in them.

What have i been doing all these years?

What am i doing?

I stare at my pictures repeatedly. When did i start taking boring ass pics?

The loud noises outside of my window suddenly got quiet. I could hear myself swallowing my saliva, my silent breathing. It never got quiet. Not in this city, not in my world.

I froze, the camera started to weight hard in my hands but i gripped it harder. Staring at the empty screen.

Did i just lose years worth of inspiration? Did i accidentally killed it?

Cold. Empty. Lifeless. Boring. That’s all the pictures show me. That’s not my thing. That’s not my meaning.

My thing is capturing, showing life, some poetic shit in photo language.

Somewhere inside me, the spark that thrive my life and inspiration, flickered… dimmed. This time, idk if i can relight it again.

🎐⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ (y’all i was struggling on this scene for WEEKS)

Malcolm was making dinner this time. All that shit of my lack of skills made me hungry so i went to the kitchen, just to see what he was doing.

Tagoe? Don’t know where his ass went. Probably in his room. I’ll go to his room to annoy him after i checked what Malcom making to get rid of these down ass thoughts with burning food thoughts instead.

“Yo” i said as i walked in, Malcolm was soaking up some pasta. He hummed back in response.

“You making pasta?” I looked at his soggy pasta. “Yeah, thought i might try something different”, Malcom shrugged his shoulders.

“Aight.. cool” I looked around the kitchen. It’s been a long time since i purposely avoid my thoughts, I’m not the type to get downer thoughts get to me.

I look in the pantry for snacks. The sounds of plastic and crinkly fills the kitchen through my ear, the texture of the snacks through my fingertips, finding anything to keep away from rethinking my whole life choices.

“Did something happen?” Malcom said, i paused and looked at him. “Huh?”

“Did something happen? You’re too quiet and you’re not insulting my cooking” He stared at me like he said some daily facts about life.

“Nothings wrong man, just hungry asf” I laugh a bit, i close the pantry.

“That’s ass, you never miss an opportunity to make fun of my cooking. As much as it annoys me, i rather have that than Emo Rufus”

I frowned, is it that obvious. I let out a scoff. “Shit in the industry just making me tired”

🎐⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Dude you should do a personal project! Stop taking money gigs and make your work. Your shit will be mad popular” Tagoe said as grab a soda from the fringe. “Yeah i agree, if you fee wrong about doing these gigs just make your own. It’ll be in your own rules, your vision” Malcolm said beside me as he munch on his spaghetti.

I told Malcom about the industry and lack spark i be having then Tagoe came out of his room and heard us. They waited for me to spill more and when by the time i was finish the food was too. I sigh, “it’s not that easy, idk what to take photos of.. plus we need the money”.

“Well think of one! Just take your time. No biggie, don’t even bother with money. Both me and Malcolm can handle it, weren’t you the one that told us you wanted people to see your work as inspiration? All you’ve been doing are just products and clothes, it doesn’t yell out ‘Rufus work’ it yells out ‘Rufus desperate for money’. Make that dream come true, dawg. That’s why you lost your passion”, Tagoe moved around in the kitchen. He always does that when he talks, i like to think he’s invested in the conversation.

Malcolm hyped him, “exactly mf! Eighteen year old you would’ve already cussed you out for doing money gigs and not Rufus gigs. I think you should take a break from taking money gigs”.

Tagoe finally walks to the sofa and sat with us. “You just gotta wait till the inspiration comes to you” he said, i looked at him with a brow raised. “You tryna be a poet?”

Malcolm put a hand on my shoulder, “what Tagoe is saying just you shouldn’t force some passion shit to photography, you start photography in a while YOU used to know” i gave him a look as well, Malcom sigh, “as in take pictures in the moment, where you feel like eighteen again”

“That doesn’t make any sense” i muffled as i ate my food.

“Ugh then idk, let’s try poetic speech another time. Let’s eat” Malcom waves his hand, as Tagoe turned on the tv.

Chapter Text

Hey!!! Uhh how’s everyone doing?? I’m def not doing this so yall don’t see the lack of updates… Im sorry for not updating that much, I’ve stuck with assignments and I’ve been burned out, i barely touch profound cause I’m recovering from the will power i lost to those fuck ahh assignments. Those bitches beat me up good 😞. I have fall break now and i wanna write but lowkey im bummed out like a soggy sausage, i only wrote like little bit for chapter six these week and im still not finish at all, nowhere done actually. Sooooo how’s y’all thoughts so far on this story? I truly want this story to inspire others to make other aus for tbdate like for example I’m gonna tell you the ones i listed. Which are streamer au, high school au, coworkers au, second chance trope, childhood friends au, neighbors au, tattoo artist and book store owner, one night stand trope, etc.

I have many scenarios and i hope i can accomplish them and actually finish one by one and hopefully my fics get known in the Tbdate fandom.

There are so little fanfics about Tbdate and i lowkey need more I’m sure y’all feel the same. If yall got anything to say, say it, I’ll respond as soon as i get the notification.