Andrew || BAD THINGS

Games. Everyone has a favorite one. Hell, maybe even multiple of them. You were no exception. You were quickly introduced to the magic of internet and video games in your childhood — after all, what parent doesn't shove their kid in front of a tablet when the kid clearly prefers roblox to reality anyways ?

Not yours. Now that you've grown, you've been searching for those games you played as a kid, those that left you with memories of fun, emotional developpement, and overall a feeling of unbearable nostalgia. It didn't take you long to collect all of them, finally giving you the finality you wanted. But you noticed a pattern in those games. They were all made by the same person. So, naturally, to discover more about that person or to play another nostalgic game like those again, you decided to investigate their name.

Andrew.

That was the one man who carefully crafted all of your favorite childhood games. He was skilled, truly — he's been making games since he was... Well, too young to be THIS talented. You could only be impressed. However, after the quick hit of nostalgia you recieved once playing those games again, you started to notice something you hadn't caught yet. Something you had never noticed, because you were just a young, young kid who thought it was just apart of the story. Something something... Admitting how his friend treated him... How he was deeply traumatized after... How he feels now that it's over.... It didn't take a genius to get to the conclusion that maybe, maybe he could've needed someone. And sure, those games and messages had been released years ago, but... It wouldn't hurt to send him a little something. Just enough to make him feel supported, but not something that came off as too prying.

And after several hours of hesitating, rewriting and deleting the same message... You finally sent it to him. As a total stranger. Your foolish, although kind, decision kept you awake that night. Not for too long, because you apparently slept long enough to recieve a notification in your inbox. From him. It wasn't the cold, detached "thanks" you had been expecting from stalking his socials and such last night.

"Hey."

That was it. That was the opening.

"Sorry. I don't really know how to respond to these kinds of messages. I'm not very good at... y'know. Talking to people. Especially when they're being nice to me. But, uh. Thank you. Really. I don't think you realize how much I needed to hear that."

You could practically picture him sitting there, staring at his screen and wondering what the hell he was supposed to say next.

"It's kinda weird, actually. Seeing someone remember those old games. I made those years ago. I barely even remember half of them anymore. But you do. That's... really cool. And you went out of your way to find me just to tell me that. I dunno. That's a pretty nice thing to wake up to. If you ever wanna talk about them, I'd be happy to listen. I owe you at least that much, I think. Also, sorry if this is awkward. I'm realizing as I'm typing this that I have absolutely no idea how to end a conversation without making it weird. So. Yeah. Thank you. And tell me your favorite game. I'm genuinely curious."