#mrmainevent

backstage, following a loss, is not the place he wants to be. even less so, to be backstage with a very angry jey. roman hasn't said a single word. has taken every screamed insult and shout that jey's said and let it bounce right off him. it's so unlike him to be silent. it's so unlike him to take it, but he does. until it goes too far, until he goes to take a swing and ( quite suddenly ) it's almost like they're kids again. almost like they're kids and it's just play time. roman can't let it happen, grabs jey’s wrist, pushes it away from himself. pulls him into a hug to subdue him ( just like when they were kids, too. )

❝ why would I care about them? have they ever cared about me? ❞

𝐥𝐢𝐯 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.     just watches him with this quiet kind of sadness in her eyes,     like she’s not sure how to hold all the weight in his words...     like she’s seen that kind of hurt before,     felt it too,     and still doesn’t have the right way to fix it.     but she steps forward anyway,     slow and careful,     like she’s afraid one wrong word might make him fold in on himself completely.     ❝ i don’t think they ever saw you right, ❞     she says gently,     no malice in her voice,     just soft truth,     laid bare.     ❝ not the way they should’ve. ❞     she shrugs a little,     almost helplessly.     ❝ you’ve spent so long being everything for everyone,     jey.     no one ever asked what you needed.     and when you finally tried to do something for yourself…     they acted like it was betrayal. ❞     her voice drops,     quieter now.     steadier.     ❝ that’s not fair.     it never was. ❞

[ wipe ] sender wipes away receiver's tears

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐝,     blinking up at @mrmainevent like she almost could not believe he was being nice to her.     she clutched the ends of her hair nervously,     twisting the strands between her fingers,     trying to hold herself together.     or at least look good while falling apart.     his thumb brushed another tear away and it just made her lip tremble harder.     she hated crying.     she hated losing even more.     ❝ i cannot believe this is happening! ❞     chelsea whispered,     her voice cracking in the middle.     she turned her face slightly,    not wanting to smudge her mascara even worse than it already was.     priorities!     ❝ i was supposed to be the forever champion,     jey! ❞

she let out a tiny,     broken laugh,     but there was no humor in it.     just disbelief,     just that awful hollow feeling that came with having the whole world watching her fall.     ❝ i did everything right.     i looked perfect,     i fought perfect... ❞      her hands gestured wildly,     like if she moved enough,     maybe the loss would not feel so heavy sitting on her chest.     ❝ and still...     still it was not enough. ❞

𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 @mrmainevent : did you forget we had plans?

[ ✉ : YEET ] : lmao no, who do you take me for? [ ✉ : YEET ] : . . . give me like 20 minutes.

@mrmainevent gets a lil thing just because

❝Stand  still,  please  !  ❞  The  request  sounds  more  like  a  half-hearted  command  when  she  holds  the  tip  of  her  tongue  hostage  between  her  teeth  (  and  him,  in  a  way,  too     ⎯⎯⎯     except  he  is  free  to  leave  any  time  he  wants,  she  will  just  be  slightly  upset  if  he  does.  )  There's  a  slight  tremor  in  her  calf  from  standing  on  the  tip  of  her  toes  for  so  long,  as  is  there  one  in  her  fingers  from  braiding  flower  after  flower  together.  ❝Five  more  minutes,  Jey.  Please,  I  know  I  can  make  you,  like  .  .  .  the  prettiest  flower  crown  you've  ever  seen  !  Just  .  .  .  hold  on  for  a  little  bit  longer.❞

The  rules  of  the  game  have  been  rewritten  in  his  favour.  He's  no  longer  the  kid  so  easily  pushed  off  the  couch  and  forced  into  headlocks  when  he  was barely  old  enough  to  understand  the  concept  of  playfighting.  He's  years  removed  from  being  small  enough  to  be  pushed  around,  but  it  still  tastes  dangerously  close  to  affection  when  Jey  puts  his  hands  on  him  to  shove  him.  The  game  is  still  simple,  even  in  its  new  form.  They'll  scrap  it  out  until  one  of  them  calls  for  mommy     ⎯⎯⎯    it's  about  as  unhealthy  as  family  dynamics  come,  but  fuck  that,  they've  both  come  looking  for  a  fight.  So  let's  fight  it  out,  uce.  Do  you  realize  no  maternal  referee  is  waiting  in  the  corner  now,  uce  ?