HOME | DD

Description
When I see your smile...
Tears roll down my face...
I can’t replace...

Cry ran a hand through his brown hair, a white pokerface mask positioned comfortably over his eyes and nose.
He stood in the airport awkwardly, holding a white sign with “Felix” written on it in black marker.
He couldn’t wait to see Pewds in real life for the first time ever, and he was ecstatic. When a blonde haired man with large blue eyes came into view, Cry held up the sign over his head, smiling towards him.
Cry chuckled, watching Pewdie look around for about a minute before noticing the sign and jogging towards it.
He stopped just short of a foot from Cry, staring at him in awe. “Cry...?” Pewdie said low, a large grin spreading across his face.
“Hello, friend.” the brunette said, dropping his arm at his side and waving. “Who else do you know with a mask like mine?”.
Pewdie laughed, and lurched forward, throwing his arms around the American gamer. Cry shivered lightly, hesitantly hugging him back.
Behind the mask, Cry’s eyes were closed tightly... He couldn’t bear to see Pewdie smile face to face, especially how much it affected him just over a computer screen.
Besides, Pewdie was still with Marzia, seeing as how much he said that she would miss him for the week he would be gone.
So Cry would refrain as much as possible from seeing Pewdie smile, because it would break him down.
After a second, Pewdie pulled away and picked up two duffle bags from the floor at his sides.
“C’mon Pewds, I’m sure you’re tired...” Cry murmured, waving a hand and walking towards the exit with Pewdie tagging along behind him like a puppy.
The two gamers walked out through the parking lot, and Cry swirled his keys on his index finger.
He sighed, a bit embarrassed to let Pewdie see his home and car.
He drove a crappy, little, white 1996 BMW, accustomed with a small dent on the passenger door from the horrible driving in Florida.
But Pewdie was clearly trying to be nice, by smiling, horribly smiling, at Cry when they approached the car and unlocked the trunk, tossing Pewdie’s luggage in.
When they climbed in the car, Pewdie looked around. “I like your car... It’s nice.” he murmured, and Cry smirked, laughing.
“You don’t have to be nice, I know it sucks.” he murmured, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot, out onto the road and towards his shack he called a home...

And now that I’m strong I have figured out...
How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul...
And I know I’ll find, deep inside me...
I can be the one...

It was all a lie.
During the ride, Pewdie tried to stay silent, despite Cry trying to make conversation. Don’t get him wrong; he wanted to talk to Cry, but his mind was elsewhere at the moment.
Everything, how Marzia was going to “miss him” and how she was so sad to him go... Lies, all of it.
Planning for the trip had made Marzia angry, saying how they had plans for the next couple days, and that he should reschedule...
But no, that was impossible.
He had a busy enough schedule with Youtube, he couldn’t just cancel on his best bro. So after a fight that literally lasted all night...
Marzia left him. So, since he didn’t want to see Cry feel sad for him, he lied, saying they were together.
Pewdie thought he was protecting Cry, when in reality, he was breaking him down more than his sanity could handle...

“Welcome.” Cry said, climbing from his vehicle and jogging to grab Pewdie’s bags, then leading him to the door.
Cry wasn’t rich; his house was a small double wide, consisting of two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, and a small kitchen.
What scared Cry a bit was that Pewdie was silent the entire ride, making him a bit uncomfortable as he tried to make conversation.
Maybe something was on his mind, he didn’t know.
The American opened the door into the living room, consisting of a television, couch, a small lounge chair and a oak wood coffee table. In reality, the lounge chair was just a cover up, like a painting you put over a hole in the wall...
Except it wasn’t a hole in the wall he was covering up: It was blood, Cry’s blood to be exact.
The stain wouldn’t come off the cream colored walls, and he didn’t have the money to repaint the living room, so he bought a chair.
Cry was just lucky it was a low stain. When they were inside, the American gamer shut the door behind him, usually locking it whenever he came back inside from being forced to get some fresh air from Russ or Scott.
Cry waved his hand out carelessly, offering a smile. “Make yourself at home, friend.”. Pewdie nodded, and rubbed a hand down his arm. “I’m gunna take a shower, airplanes are gross.” he chuckled.
Cry nodded, pointing towards a hallway. “First door on the left.”. When Pewdie disappeared down the hall and Cry heard the shower turn on, he fell onto the couch with a groan.
It’d been awhile since his last “tantrum”, as he called them... He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed it didn’t happen while Pewdie was here...
Too many people have called him insane, he didn’t need his best friend to join that club. But this world is a cold place, and it breaks you.
It had broken Cry, he should probably be dead... The one saving the insane American was Pewdie, of course.
Somehow, his love always pushed through, and he reminded himself he needed to stay alive... He couldn’t leave his friend, wondering what had become of his friend.
Suicide? No, that’s too rough... It would leave to much pain for him.
Cry slid onto his back, positioning his mask correctly on his face. Why couldn’t he be the one for Pewdie, not Marzia?
Cry felt his fingers and toes start twitching, and his heart raced.
He knew he could be there for him...

I will never let you fall...
I’ll stand up with you forever...
I’ll be there for you, through it all...
Even if saving you sends me to heaven

Pewdie stepped out of the shower, toweling off and stepping into a fresh change of clothes.
He walked from the bathroom, ruffling his hair dry.
“Cry?” he called into the living room from the hall, stepping in and not seeing the American.
Crash
Pewdie jumped, his head turning towards the kitchen, where the sound came from. Then he noticed it: a white, pokerface mask on the floor.
Pewdie stepped forward slowly, bending over and picking it up. He stared at it for a second, then walked into the kitchen.
Pewdie gasped quietly, seeing the kitchen. Shattered plates and glass lay merely inches from his feet, making a semi circle in front of the door.
Small droplets of blood surrounding the glass. And then there was Cry, his shaggy brown hair sticking up, sitting in a wooden chair at the kitchen table, face down.
The lights were off, and there were no windows in the kitchen, giving it an eerie feeling. All that lit up the area enough to see was light flooding in from the other room, which was bright and sunny.
“C-Cry?” Pewdie asked, staring at the brunette, slightly wide eyed.
Then his head lifted, revealing he was indeed wearing a mask. His head turned, and Pewdie saw the face of said mask.
It was exactly like the one in his hand, except it looked like dried blood had been rubbed and smeared onto the mouth and eyes. With his mouth only revealed, Cry grinned, large and creepy.
“Pewdie... I’m so glad you’re here... They don’t like you, they only want me... When other people are around...”
Cry said in a sickeningly sweet voice, and then dropped it to a whisper,
“They can’t take me.” Pewdie swallowed, and looked down at the glass. “I did that... But it doesn’t stop them, they can still come in and get me!”
Cry started, his voice trembling and he was almost yelling. “Cry, come on, let’s get you calmed down...” Pewdie said slowly, shaking slightly.
What was wrong with his friend? “P-Pewdie!” Cry suddenly yelled, and shrank back into the chair. “Leave me alone! Don’t touch me!” he screamed, complete and utter fear rang in his voice.
Pewdie tilted his head in curiosity slightly, and Cry let out a scream. Not just a scream, but a scream of pure pain and anguish.
Pewdie bit his lip, then stepped over the semicircle of glass, walking up to his friend. “Cry? Cry!” he said, stepping up to the chair.
“Leave me alone! Get out! Get out!” Cry seemed to sob, clutching the mask to his face. Pewdie shrank away, but shook his head, scared, but he couldn’t leave his friend to suffer.
Pewdie held up the mask that was in his hand, then reached out slowly. He gripped the edge of the mask Cry was wearing, then pulled it away from Cry’s hands.
Cry only screamed louder, his hands violently shaking. Pewdie slipped the original in it’s place, throwing the accursed mask to the floor.
Cry’s screams died down, and he clutched his chest, shaking. “Cry, are you-” he was interrupted by the American lashing out at his face, slicing his cheeks with a piece of glass.
“I said stay- Oh Pewdie... I’m so... so sorry!” he said in a panic, reaching out. Pewdie hissed in pain, bring a hand to his cheek.
“Don’t worry about it, Cry.” Pewdie said, smiling. He was always so lighthearted.
The American looked around, then to his hands, who were cut and bloodied from the glass.
“Oh no... No... No...” he whispered, shaking. “Pewdie, I’m so sorry- I didn’t know, I mean, I didn’t think this would happen...” he stuttered, wrapping his arms around his midsection.
“Cry...” Pewdie knelt down in front of him. “It’s okay, I swear... But, what happened?” Cry frowned, looking down.
“You think I’m insane.” he whispered, positioning the mask correctly on his face, just showing his mouth. Luckily, Pewdie hadn’t seen his face.
What had set him off again? All he remembered was thinking about Pewdie still with Marzia... No, that couldn’t possibly have done it?
Pewdie shook his head, smiling. “I don’t think you’re crazy; But I want to help you. I’m here for you, okay? Even if it kills me.”
Pewdie stood again, and found the light switch, flicking it on. Cry smiled, standing and rubbing the blood from his hands on his jeans. “Okay, Pewdie.”

Description
When I see your smile...
Tears roll down my face...
I can’t replace...

Cry ran a hand through his brown hair, a white pokerface mask positioned comfortably over his eyes and nose.
He stood in the airport awkwardly, holding a white sign with “Felix” written on it in black marker.
He couldn’t wait to see Pewds in real life for the first time ever, and he was ecstatic. When a blonde haired man with large blue eyes came into view, Cry held up the sign over his head, smiling towards him.
Cry chuckled, watching Pewdie look around for about a minute before noticing the sign and jogging towards it.
He stopped just short of a foot from Cry, staring at him in awe. “Cry...?” Pewdie said low, a large grin spreading across his face.
“Hello, friend.” the brunette said, dropping his arm at his side and waving. “Who else do you know with a mask like mine?”.
Pewdie laughed, and lurched forward, throwing his arms around the American gamer. Cry shivered lightly, hesitantly hugging him back.
Behind the mask, Cry’s eyes were closed tightly... He couldn’t bear to see Pewdie smile face to face, especially how much it affected him just over a computer screen.
Besides, Pewdie was still with Marzia, seeing as how much he said that she would miss him for the week he would be gone.
So Cry would refrain as much as possible from seeing Pewdie smile, because it would break him down.
After a second, Pewdie pulled away and picked up two duffle bags from the floor at his sides.
“C’mon Pewds, I’m sure you’re tired...” Cry murmured, waving a hand and walking towards the exit with Pewdie tagging along behind him like a puppy.
The two gamers walked out through the parking lot, and Cry swirled his keys on his index finger.
He sighed, a bit embarrassed to let Pewdie see his home and car.
He drove a crappy, little, white 1996 BMW, accustomed with a small dent on the passenger door from the horrible driving in Florida.
But Pewdie was clearly trying to be nice, by smiling, horribly smiling, at Cry when they approached the car and unlocked the trunk, tossing Pewdie’s luggage in.
When they climbed in the car, Pewdie looked around. “I like your car... It’s nice.” he murmured, and Cry smirked, laughing.
“You don’t have to be nice, I know it sucks.” he murmured, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot, out onto the road and towards his shack he called a home...

And now that I’m strong I have figured out...
How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul...
And I know I’ll find, deep inside me...
I can be the one...

It was all a lie.
During the ride, Pewdie tried to stay silent, despite Cry trying to make conversation. Don’t get him wrong; he wanted to talk to Cry, but his mind was elsewhere at the moment.
Everything, how Marzia was going to “miss him” and how she was so sad to him go... Lies, all of it.
Planning for the trip had made Marzia angry, saying how they had plans for the next couple days, and that he should reschedule...
But no, that was impossible.
He had a busy enough schedule with Youtube, he couldn’t just cancel on his best bro. So after a fight that literally lasted all night...
Marzia left him. So, since he didn’t want to see Cry feel sad for him, he lied, saying they were together.
Pewdie thought he was protecting Cry, when in reality, he was breaking him down more than his sanity could handle...

“Welcome.” Cry said, climbing from his vehicle and jogging to grab Pewdie’s bags, then leading him to the door.
Cry wasn’t rich; his house was a small double wide, consisting of two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, and a small kitchen.
What scared Cry a bit was that Pewdie was silent the entire ride, making him a bit uncomfortable as he tried to make conversation.
Maybe something was on his mind, he didn’t know.
The American opened the door into the living room, consisting of a television, couch, a small lounge chair and a oak wood coffee table. In reality, the lounge chair was just a cover up, like a painting you put over a hole in the wall...
Except it wasn’t a hole in the wall he was covering up: It was blood, Cry’s blood to be exact.
The stain wouldn’t come off the cream colored walls, and he didn’t have the money to repaint the living room, so he bought a chair.
Cry was just lucky it was a low stain. When they were inside, the American gamer shut the door behind him, usually locking it whenever he came back inside from being forced to get some fresh air from Russ or Scott.
Cry waved his hand out carelessly, offering a smile. “Make yourself at home, friend.”. Pewdie nodded, and rubbed a hand down his arm. “I’m gunna take a shower, airplanes are gross.” he chuckled.
Cry nodded, pointing towards a hallway. “First door on the left.”. When Pewdie disappeared down the hall and Cry heard the shower turn on, he fell onto the couch with a groan.
It’d been awhile since his last “tantrum”, as he called them... He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed it didn’t happen while Pewdie was here...
Too many people have called him insane, he didn’t need his best friend to join that club. But this world is a cold place, and it breaks you.
It had broken Cry, he should probably be dead... The one saving the insane American was Pewdie, of course.
Somehow, his love always pushed through, and he reminded himself he needed to stay alive... He couldn’t leave his friend, wondering what had become of his friend.
Suicide? No, that’s too rough... It would leave to much pain for him.
Cry slid onto his back, positioning his mask correctly on his face. Why couldn’t he be the one for Pewdie, not Marzia?
Cry felt his fingers and toes start twitching, and his heart raced.
He knew he could be there for him...

I will never let you fall...
I’ll stand up with you forever...
I’ll be there for you, through it all...
Even if saving you sends me to heaven

Pewdie stepped out of the shower, toweling off and stepping into a fresh change of clothes.
He walked from the bathroom, ruffling his hair dry.
“Cry?” he called into the living room from the hall, stepping in and not seeing the American.
Crash
Pewdie jumped, his head turning towards the kitchen, where the sound came from. Then he noticed it: a white, pokerface mask on the floor.
Pewdie stepped forward slowly, bending over and picking it up. He stared at it for a second, then walked into the kitchen.
Pewdie gasped quietly, seeing the kitchen. Shattered plates and glass lay merely inches from his feet, making a semi circle in front of the door.
Small droplets of blood surrounding the glass. And then there was Cry, his shaggy brown hair sticking up, sitting in a wooden chair at the kitchen table, face down.
The lights were off, and there were no windows in the kitchen, giving it an eerie feeling. All that lit up the area enough to see was light flooding in from the other room, which was bright and sunny.
“C-Cry?” Pewdie asked, staring at the brunette, slightly wide eyed.
Then his head lifted, revealing he was indeed wearing a mask. His head turned, and Pewdie saw the face of said mask.
It was exactly like the one in his hand, except it looked like dried blood had been rubbed and smeared onto the mouth and eyes. With his mouth only revealed, Cry grinned, large and creepy.
“Pewdie... I’m so glad you’re here... They don’t like you, they only want me... When other people are around...”
Cry said in a sickeningly sweet voice, and then dropped it to a whisper,
“They can’t take me.” Pewdie swallowed, and looked down at the glass. “I did that... But it doesn’t stop them, they can still come in and get me!”
Cry started, his voice trembling and he was almost yelling. “Cry, come on, let’s get you calmed down...” Pewdie said slowly, shaking slightly.
What was wrong with his friend? “P-Pewdie!” Cry suddenly yelled, and shrank back into the chair. “Leave me alone! Don’t touch me!” he screamed, complete and utter fear rang in his voice.
Pewdie tilted his head in curiosity slightly, and Cry let out a scream. Not just a scream, but a scream of pure pain and anguish.
Pewdie bit his lip, then stepped over the semicircle of glass, walking up to his friend. “Cry? Cry!” he said, stepping up to the chair.
“Leave me alone! Get out! Get out!” Cry seemed to sob, clutching the mask to his face. Pewdie shrank away, but shook his head, scared, but he couldn’t leave his friend to suffer.
Pewdie held up the mask that was in his hand, then reached out slowly. He gripped the edge of the mask Cry was wearing, then pulled it away from Cry’s hands.
Cry only screamed louder, his hands violently shaking. Pewdie slipped the original in it’s place, throwing the accursed mask to the floor.
Cry’s screams died down, and he clutched his chest, shaking. “Cry, are you-” he was interrupted by the American lashing out at his face, slicing his cheeks with a piece of glass.
“I said stay- Oh Pewdie... I’m so... so sorry!” he said in a panic, reaching out. Pewdie hissed in pain, bring a hand to his cheek.
“Don’t worry about it, Cry.” Pewdie said, smiling. He was always so lighthearted.
The American looked around, then to his hands, who were cut and bloodied from the glass.
“Oh no... No... No...” he whispered, shaking. “Pewdie, I’m so sorry- I didn’t know, I mean, I didn’t think this would happen...” he stuttered, wrapping his arms around his midsection.
“Cry...” Pewdie knelt down in front of him. “It’s okay, I swear... But, what happened?” Cry frowned, looking down.
“You think I’m insane.” he whispered, positioning the mask correctly on his face, just showing his mouth. Luckily, Pewdie hadn’t seen his face.
What had set him off again? All he remembered was thinking about Pewdie still with Marzia... No, that couldn’t possibly have done it?
Pewdie shook his head, smiling. “I don’t think you’re crazy; But I want to help you. I’m here for you, okay? Even if it kills me.”
Pewdie stood again, and found the light switch, flicking it on. Cry smiled, standing and rubbing the blood from his hands on his jeans. “Okay, Pewdie.”