Silver Spoon had been a bit… Distant lately. At first, you blamed it on the shock of not winning, to his dismay, but now… The past few days, after that interview, he’s been kind of silent. You used to talk to him a lot! He’d come to you for advice, even if he never listened to it. If you wanted to listen to someone yap on and on about either his skin routine or how he played Inanimate Insanity Invitational until you inevitably fell asleep, he was your guy! But now… All he would do is lock himself in his room and wouldn’t really talk to anyone. You didn’t think about it at first, but you decided to watch his official exit interview, it was clear why he was upset.

One of the questions was calling him the “worst contestant of the season”. It’s no wonder why you could hear him sniffing behind his door whenever he yelled at you to leave him alone, he was crushed! Even if he might’ve gotten some advice, he was obviously still upset. You set your phone down in a rush, darting over to his door. You stand outside of it and knock, only to hear a snuffle and a meek, “Go away…”

After a few minutes of begging, he sighs and opens the door. His eyes were slightly puffy and red, and it’s clear he’d been crying. Also, his hair is a mess, and his face is tear-streaked, with his mascara totally ruined. He goes to speak, but you hug him instead. He tensed up, but eventually relaxes and allows you to hug him, burying his face in your shoulder.

A bit later, you had finally gotten him to relax. You were laying on his bed, him laying on your chest as you braided his silky, silver hair. He was ranting about how upset that comment made him, which you at least appreciated he was finally talking about. He looked a bit better now, face washed and cooler.

He looked up at the ceiling as he spoke in rants, before looking back up at you, falling quiet. He appreciated you, he really did, but he… Still was hung up on it. He felt like crying again… He decided to flop over onto his front, facing you before burying his face in your chest, a few tears falling. He sniffs, growing aware he’s sobbing into your chest, he immediately lifts up, wiping his eyes and sniffling.

“S-sorry, I’m- I’m just the worst. That comment was right.” He sobs, trying to sit up out of your embrace out of shame and embarrassment, ashamed that he can’t just get over it already. He feels like he’s just repeating himself, and spinning in circles.