Nice Posture Nonsense | One Shots

Break (Nice Posture)

"Jerome....? Why are you doing this...?" Andrew asked, walking slowly towards his friend.

"Loneliness and YouTube combined do things to you, Andrew. They make you do crazy, irrational things. Things you wouldn't do if even one person had stopped to ask if you were okay, if you needed a break. Loneliness and YouTube, they do that to you. I thought you, out of everyone, would understand that." Jerome said with a bitter, twisted smile as he aimed the gun at the room full of people.

"I get needing a break, but holding a convention room full of kids and teens hostage? Doesn't that seem a bit far?" Andrew said, glancing around at the 100 or so people in the room.

"Maybe it used to feel that way to me, but now? I've completely lost it, Andrew. You know what a job like YouTube with no breaks will do to a person's spirit." Jerome said, twirling the pistol.

"I don't know what it feels like, Jerome. I took breaks. I established a day off. I gave myself breaks. Why didn't you?" Andrew said, stopping a few feet from Jerome, looking up at him.

"By the time I wanted a break, I was already too far in. I had committed to three streams a day, every day, even on holidays. If I took a break without content being uploaded, there would be an uproar. I'd lose subscribers. I'd be put under even more pressure to produce content than I already am. Look around you, Andrew. They're kids. Kids are ruthless, they don't understand boundaries, they don't understand that we are human too." Jerome said, his voice gradually growing louder and louder and more agitated.

"Not everyone is like that, and you know that. You yourself even say just because you're PG doesn't mean you're family friendly. By the time they're thirteen or fourteen, they'll get the jokes. You aren't aiming yourself at kids, and you know that."

"Yeah, I know that! But it doesn't stop them from watching my streams! It doesn't matter who I'm aiming at, anyone can watch whatever they want." Jerome said with an edge to his voice.

"Jerome, please, just put the gun down. You don't have to do this. You can take a break now. Jerome, dude, please." Ryan uncrouched from where he was protecting some terrified kids with his body, making sure to still block them as best he could, taking a step to him.

"John, don't you even start. You left as soon as things started going downhill for me, making a claim that you just wanted to grow as your own creator. If that had been true, I would've been fine with you leaving. But it wasn't. As soon as the channel hit a bit of a lull, a bit of a decline in views, you left. Then you just waltz in and pretend you didn't disappear for a year. Don't even bother." Jerome spat, swinging the gun to point at Ryan.

Ryan threw his hands up and sat back down. Jerome's tone suddenly changed, his posture crumpled. "I - I - I - can't do this anymore. I'm so, so tired. Just - please, please, I can't - I - please, please - help me, I can't..." He collapsed in a heap on the stage where he'd been shouting from, the gun dropping from his hand to the floor.

Everyone stayed frozen for several moments, until the doors opened. Jerome's parents stepped into the room.

"It's okay Jerome, we'll help you."

tbh I've been working on this for a while, whenever I'd get upset I'd come here and channel that emotion into writing (example: the second to last paragraph is basically how I'm feeling right now, but I put it in the context of the story)