Never before had he felt the excitement that came with existing. Of course, he had lived through so much and for many years, experienced excitement head on with a large grin and a red face, saw the world and all the beauty within it, met the coolest people he couldn't have ever fathomed- And yet, this was something new.

When he hoped out of the airplane, arms tangled on his old friend, the other gripping a suitcase, feeling the air blow through his face and play with his hair was something new, something he hadn't known even if he stood right there a little over two weeks ago.

But it all felt apart when a shrill voice called out his name, took him out of his state of content that he always felt when the cold breeze trickled down his back- No, this was something more, this was something that even after years of doing it, he couldn't truly fathom it.

Not when someone grabbed his arm and held on for dear life, not even when reporters pointed cameras at their band, not when people started surrounding them. Not even when Karl pulled them away and into a taxi, apologising to the folks who flashed cameras in their eyes, apologising for not standing up and welcoming them even if they wouldn't let go of them, begged for autographs- even when they wouldn't let the driver close the door.

He was in a state of panic, he was terrified of the eyes of the audience, terrified that he would be the one to disappoint everyone and everything and then they would be the one calling him a monster, even if what he did didn't seem to cause anyone but them harm.

When they started to hit the road, everyone sat quietly. Nobody spoke, nobody did anything.

They were squished in there, and it didn't help that Clay was taller than everyone else. He felt flattened and strangled, and but he would rather be put through that then any of his friends.

Fuck being tall.

Clay was silent, listening to music as Bad and Skeppy tried to come up with a conversation that would spark a nerve of intent from the group, but it wasn't really working well.

Karl was staring out of the window, his shoulder occupied by a tired Quackity. Sapnap stared at them with love in the pits of his eyes, glad that the universe and existence confounded his feelings for the two valiant boys. And then there was Clay, locked in his own emotions on the other side of the car.

His phone buzzed and he looked down upon it, hand cupping his chin and when he read the message he smiled.

Are you alright?

Such a small gesture to make his cheeks warm and a smile appear on his painted face.

Yeah we kinda got swarmed tho :c

Yeah I saw that, I was just checking

Why thank you ';)

What is that

What

That

What, it's a one eyebrow up face

That's weird

No it's not your weird >:'((

Stop using FACESSSSS

....

no

How dare you

>:)))

And there Clay felt it again. The excitement that came with existing, the small tingle in his fingertips whenever he talked to George, whenever he was around him, whenever he bickered about books, there it was; It was sticking its head from the sidelines only to peak through but never once did it come out.

"When are you going to tell George you like him?" Sapnap asked, taking out one of Clay's headphones. The blond shot his head up and faced the younger with a bored look.

"What?"

"You heard me."

When he grinned, Clay drew a hand through his hair and turned away from his expectant eyes only for him to laugh in his face, causing the others to turn to the sight.

When everyone caught ahold of what they were laughing about, they started to laugh too. Even Bad was giggling to himself.

"I hate you guys." Clay said when they left the taxi at their hotel.

"We love you too, Clay."