Chapter Text
You… actually weren’t that bad
You became more of a bassist than a bodyguard, but you didn’t really mind. You still had the goal of protecting Elliot, considering that was your whole purpose, but you could put some of the constant observation aside for his sake.
After they gave you a few weeks of practice (with assistance from Elliot), you knew most of the songs pretty well. You weren’t utterly perfect, which was expected, but you were pretty damn good.
But during those weeks, Elliot started staying by you a lot more than usual. When you practiced, read, or even went out in public, he was with you. And he limited the use of his phone around you, which weirded you out a bit, but digging through his personal items wasn’t going to be an option for you anyway. You also swore he’d gotten much, much clingier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You had been scrolling through Twitter (unfortunately) before finding a tweet that… had your name? Your full name? You read through it and… you were disgusted. It was just insult after insult towards you. Death threats, slurs, and more personal insults— all directed at you. As a frown began to grow on your face, something else caught your eye.
Elliot commented under it.
<<“awwww someones jealous that i have a better, hotter, AND nicer player huh? U poor poor baby ;C”
…That was… interesting. It had many, many more likes than the previous post. And better player?
Oh. The dots were a lot easier to connect now.
You noticed the page refresh as a new comment popped up.
“>> rlly defending a weirdo like that? Theyre a fat crosseyed slag”
Ouch.
“>> wild imagine being so jealous ur saying that a literal BODYBUILDER is ugly”
You kept refreshing the page as the fight ensued, which was interesting to watch. A smile had been snaking its way to your mouth, and it was growing as you kept reading Elliot’s comments. Some of his fans started defending you as well, which was nice. Before the bassist could shoot back with a retort, Elliot responded first.
“>> since ur still so sad abt it ill give ya tickets to my next concert just so u can watch how much better they are than you”
…
“>> bet, i can beat that pussy any day”
…
You put down your phone, turning it off as you rolled over in your bed. You stared at the ceiling as thoughts swirled in your head. Your emotions were mixed. Did Elliot really mean what he said? Like… all of it? A faint yet still constant feeling of bashfulness crept upon you as you laid there, lining out everything you’d read. There were fans supporting you. You. And they hadn’t even heard you play! Talk about following the crowd.
You stared at the ceiling for a while longer, before suddenly remembering you had to attend practice this morning. God, you had to face him after all those comments.
You arrived at the studio a bit after, running a hand through your hair before walking into the room. You knew you had to at least confront him a little about it, but you also didn’t know what to say. Should you thank him? Tell him you could’ve handled it? Do you… no. God, don’t even go there—
As you pushed open the door, you heard the drummer snickering at Elliot, who had a flush of pink on his face as he rolled his eyes. You sighed as their eyes turned to you, quickly glancing away. Why were you embarrassed? You didn’t normally feel this way.
“Elliot…” You paused, clicking your tongue before facing him.
“Thank you.”