TW: hair pulling but it's not descriptive, swearing, self-deprecating/negative thoughts, slight panic attack

Let me know if I missed something.

Roman felt like a coke bottle.

Or more accurately, Roman felt like a coke bottle that had been shaken violently, but the cap remained on. He was a rage of frothy bubbles only refrained from exploding by the very last threads of his willpower.

It was tech week. Which should have been an explanation in of itself as to why the drama student was a ticking time bomb. But not only was it tech week, Roman had two tests and a quiz this week as well as a test and two projects due next week – during show week. And one of them was a group project in which he was the only one contributing.

Roman had also learned today that he had failed the science quiz from last week which dropped his grade from where it had been barely sitting at a B to a mid-C. A quiz which he had studied very hard for and had even somehow coordinated a time for Logan to tutor him in preparation.

Not to mention that he had snapped at his friends during lunch because of all of this and now felt guilty and was apprehensive to approach them again.

All in the day of a life for a high school student, right?

The thespian sighed and dropped his backpack next to his desk. It was 10 o'clock, and he had just gotten home from school after a draining tech rehearsal. Roman loved theatre with all of his heart and soul, but he often wondered if the art was worth going through hell week.

Well-aware of the fact that he wouldn't be getting nearly enough sleep (or maybe even pulling an all-nighter), Roman pulled the English essay he was working on out of his bag and sat down at his desk. He was in for another long night, and tomorrow would be another long day fueled mostly by coffee.

Playing some classical music to help him focus (as Roman often got antsy when there was silence), he began his homework. The music was kept low as to not distract him or Virgil. His twin was sitting cross-legged on his bed making notes on the sheet music in front of him. He would be playing keyboard for the show, and his first rehearsal with the cast was tomorrow at the sitzprobe. Virgil had been at home at 5 after a rehearsal with the rest of the orchestra, something Roman was greatly envious of.

The emo had made a peace sign when Roman entered their shared room as a sign of greeting and to show that he wasn't mad at him for snapping at lunch earlier. It probably would have taken a bit off of Roman's mind if he had actually seen the gesture.

The student soon found himself in a blurry zone as he hacked away at his long list of tasks. He vaguely registered Virgil's movement as he retired for the night around 11, and he was in a daze as he called it a night around 2 in the morning and just went through the motions as he prepared for bed. Then he found himself lying in the dark under the covers of his bed, impatiently waiting for sleep to take him.

He didn't even realize what he was doing until Roman found his hand awfully close to his eye. And then he became very conscious of just how many eyelashes he had. Surely just one or two wouldn't be missed…

No, they would. Roman reprimanded himself. Because you won't be able to stop yourself and one or two will turn into one or two too many.

His hand didn't listen though, and although Roman was perfectly conscious and aware of his actions and how he should stop them, he made no physical move to put an end to it.

At some point, Roman drifted off to sleep, a state that would only last a few hours.

Roman soon woke to Virgil running his fingers through his hair. Usually, he would find it in him to care but not today and not at this hour. Plus, his twin learned years ago this was the most effective way to wake him up.

"Roman?" Virgil asked softly. "Uh we kind of have to leave in 15 minutes, but there's coffee and toast downstairs after you finish getting ready."

This was enough to make Roman open eyes and slowly pull himself up into a sitting position. "With Crofters?" he mumbled.

"With Crofters," Virgil confirmed, chuckling. "Oh, and you have an eyelash on your cheek." He moved closer to brush the lash off of him gently, his fingers barely touching Roman's face. Once again, Roman would normally protest, but it was way too early in the morning.

Virgil retreated a few steps. "I'll let you get ready." He said. "Don't forget we have to leave in 14."

"Thanks, Virge," Roman said softly as he stood up and made his way towards the bathroom. The gentleness that Virgil had treated him with was the first sign to the thespian that Virgil had forgiven him for yesterday. And Roman was eternally grateful. Tech week mornings were hard, and he didn't know what he would do without Virgil.

After getting ready in record time, as he often had to do now, Roman glanced at himself in the mirror and then took a closer look at his face. He then silently swore at what his reflection beheld, but he knew it was his fault and his fault alone.

Fear ran through his body as a violent chill down his spine while Roman conjured up a worst-case scenario for how people might judge him.

Then again, Virgil was his twin, and he would have said something. Meaning he didn't notice at all. He never did. No one ever did.

Roman pushed his negative and anxious thoughts to the back of his mind and pulled on a façade as he applied his makeup briskly. He then rushed down the stairs with 5 minutes to spare, enough time to quickly eat his toast with Crofters while Virgil checked his backpack and rehearsal bag to make sure he had everything he needed.

And then with Thermos containing coffee in hand, the Sanders twins made their way to school for the hump day of hell week.

The school day passed in the same blur that the night before did with Roman just going through the motions and not really processing anything.

The only significant things happened at lunch. Roman, still focused on his actions from yesterday, was apprehensive to join his usual table. That was thankfully resolved when Virgil patted the empty seat next to him with absolutely no malice in his expression, and neither Patton or Logan protested against him joining either. Apparently, the drama student was the only one still concerned about his prior behavior.

If Roman was slightly less sleep-deprived, he may have noticed Logan's eyes narrow in confusion when he turned to face him during their conversation.

The rest of lunch almost passed without a hitch. Virgil and Patton left the cafeteria together debating light-heartedly about puppies. Although Roman was baffled how anyone could debate about puppies even if it was light-hearted.

He made to follow the duo until Logan cleared his throat, "Roman, if I may have a word briefly."

Said student turned around, not paying attention to the serious tone in Logan's voice. "Yeah, Specs, what's up?"

Logan took a moment to fidget with his glasses and scrutinize Roman's face before answering, "Is there a reason you are lacking a multitude of eyelashes today?"

Roman froze. Oh shit. Oh shit. He knows. Oh shit. He noticed. Oh shit. He noticed. Oh shit. He's gonna hate me. Oh shit. What do I do? Oh-

"Roman." Logan's calming monotone voice interrupted his racing thoughts, "Breathe with me. In for four. Out for four."

The thespian tried to focus on Logan's voice as he softly counted in time with his breathing. The two stayed there for a couple of minutes, breathing in sync until Logan broke the comfortable silence.

"Roman, I apologize as it appears that I untactfully asked you about a sensitive topic. However, I am concerned for your well-being, and I would like you to talk to me or someone else about this at a later time when you are more comfortable. Is that satisfactory?"

He nodded, grateful that Logan was not pushing him to talk about it right now. He didn't think that he would be able to handle that. He could barely handle just thinking about it. And he was definitely not ready for the inevitable judging that would come afterward.

"Good." Came Logan's voice again to interrupt his thoughts. "Now I believe you have the math quiz this period. I wish you luck, or as they say in theatre, fracture a femur. "

Roman blinked, "Uh, Logan, that's not-"

"And tell Patton to fracture a femur as well. He shares this period with you, correct?"

"Yeah, yeah I will." Roman decided to not try and correct Logan since if he did, he would definitely be late for his math quiz. He would just have to tell him later. Grabbing his bag, Roman left the cafeteria while waving a goodbye to Logan. Thoughts of seeing Patton filled his head, and the topic they had just talked about fled from his mind immediately.

The remainder of the week was painful, but Roman survived somehow, and it would soon be marked in his mind as just another tech week. Roman supposed tech week, in a weird abstract way, was like giving birth. It was unbearably painful but completely worth it afterward. And then somehow you forgot all the details of the pain and thought it would be a great idea to go through it again.

It was now Sunday which meant it was officially show week, even though this was the one day where Roman didn't have to think about the production he was a part of at all. He spent the day catching up on sleep and then resting his voice and body while working on his homework at a pace slower than a turtle. His day was going pretty well until the text.

At precisely 4:15 pm, he received a text from Logan.

Microsoft Nerd: Roman, I waited until after 'hell week' was over as to not to give you another factor to stress about, but I would like to resume our discussion from Wednesday at lunch. If you think waiting until after show week has concluded would be more beneficial, then that is fine. If you would prefer not to talk to me for whatever reason, I would like for you to at least confide in either Patton or Virgil.

Roman briefly read the text before turning almost as pale as Virgil (which was an accomplishment). His phone slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor as he hyper-focused on his breathing.

Oh my God. Logan remembered. I forgot. I'm going to have to talk about it. Am I hyperventilating? Shit I can't hyperventilate. Virgil will notice. I can't bother him. He can't notice.

"Ro?" Virgil, who was sitting just across the room, had heard the increased speed in Roman's breathing and looked up. Eyes widening, he walked over, picking up his twin's phone from off of the floor before carefully sitting next to him on the bed. Using his free hand, he started rubbing deep and slow circles on his brother's back.

Normally, it was a bad idea to touch someone experiencing a panic attack since the contact could cause them to panic even more. But Virgil knew his twin, and he knew the consistent physical contact was the best way to calm him down. He also had Roman's explicit permission to do this as well, so he continued to rub his back as his breathing started returning to a normal pace.

"Thanks," Roman mumbled. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Virgil handed him his phone. "Anytime." He replied. "Do you want to talk about it?"

There was that phrase again. Talk about it. No, Roman did not want to talk about it. He did not want to explain his recent unhealthy habits. To use Virgil's words, he wanted to hide under the covers until the sun went away.

He shook his head, and Virgil took that as a sign that the conversation was finished. "Okay. Just remember I'm literally five feet away if you need anything."

Before Virgil could stand up, Roman pulled him into a tight hug, and the twins lingered in that position for a while longer. It was several minutes before the thespian murmured a second thank you and pulled back from the hug. Virgil stood up, returning to his side of the room.

Roman took a deep breath and responded to Logan's text.

Princey: it'd probably be better if we waited until after show week

Princey: thanks specs

There. Now Roman had bought himself a bit more time before he would have to explain the unexplainable.

Roman would have liked to completely ignore the elephant in the room for the entirety of show week by throwing himself completely into the moment. The thrill and exhilaration of show week would surely be enough to take his mind off of things.

But he was not that lucky.

It hadn't even been a full 24 hours since the text from Logan was sent yesterday, and here was Roman, again, forced to face the issues that he would like to repress to the very bottom of his mind.

This time it was because of makeup. Monday was the first dress rehearsal, and usually, it was a day that Roman eagerly anticipated. Getting to wear his costume in entirety and style his hair and face to thoroughly transform into his character and then getting to do a full run-through of the show; the first dress rehearsal was one of Roman's favorite rehearsals in the entire run.

Stage makeup was designed to be excessive and bold, so the audience sitting in the very back of the theater could admire Roman's beautiful face just as well as the audience sitting in the front row.

Excessive makeup, however, meant mascara. Usually, this was no problem. Roman wore mascara daily anyways, and he had managed to still apply it even with fewer lashes to work with, so (Logan) no one had noticed that anything was different.

But for this show, Roman would have detailed eye makeup to match his character done by another person. Which meant that not only would another person be focusing on his eyes very closely for an extended period of time, they would be applying mascara to eyelashes with very obvious gaps in them.

And if Roman was not ready for confrontation from one of his closest friends, then he was definitely not ready for confrontation from a mere acquaintance.

This was his thought process as he got into costume and had his hair styled. This was what consumed his mind as his body just went through the motions once again during warmups and the mic check. This was what was pushed aside momentarily as Roman found a jar of Crofter's Jam at his backstage spot with a note saying "Please be careful if you eat this in costume, break a leg" in Virgil's half-scribble, half-neat handwriting that was reserved only for Roman.

This was what was practically eating Roman alive by the time he sat down, 'ready' for his makeup to be done.

He flashed a practiced smile at the freshman who would be doing his makeup and gently closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable confusion and interrogation as to why there were significant gaps in his eyelashes. Roman felt various brushes skillfully apply makeup onto his face; it was a relaxing sensation that he may have enjoyed any other time if he wasn't stressing about one thing in particular.

Minutes passed, and then the small freshman finally spoke. "Ok, you're good to go." They squeaked obviously intimidated by Roman.

The drama student opened his eyes and stared at the freshman in confusion who shrunk under his gaze. "That's it?" he questioned.

"Y-yeah, that's it." They responded.

Baffled, Roman stood. "Thank you." He said, and this was genuine. Judging by the expertise in which the brushes moved across his face, he could tell that his makeup was extraordinary without even seeing it.

"O-of course." He heard the freshman stammer as he walked away. That was odd. Did the freshman not notice the painfully obvious gaps as they applied mascara? Was the freshman just that oblivious or…

Were the missing lashes not as noticeable as Roman thought?

Latching onto the second option to ease his mind, Roman continued through the dress rehearsal in high spirits.

Maybe he could learn to live with his unusual habit.

Another week passed, and Monday rolled around again. Show week was over. The cast party was over. The production was officially over. In some ways, Roman was beyond relieved. Maybe now he could go through one day not being completely dependent on coffee. Maybe he could even come home before a normal dinner hour. Maybe he could focus his mind on his studies as exams lurked in the distance.

But then again, Roman lived for theatre. He lived for the thrill of it and for the adrenaline that had carried him through the past week. He had shed many tears over the finale of this production, and it was practically guaranteed he would shed many more. The memories from rehearsals and from shows would live on in his heart forever.

But moving on wasn't the same as moving forward, and Roman knew it was time to move forward and focus on the week ahead. He was prepared for a week filled with studying and homework as he attempted to salvage his dropping grades in science and English.

Roman loved the subject of English, but his grade in the class was suffering greatly. He had a tendency to not follow directions on written assignments and to take many creative liberties with them. Roman was also rather extra when it came to acting out plays or reading novels in class; the end of the year was drawing closer, and his teacher was completely done with him.

Science was just a subject that Roman struggled with and probably always would. The topics just never seemed to click with him. Luckily, he was friends with Logan, the nerdiest nerd there ever was. Logan happened to be excellent at science, and he was also willing to tutor his friend for a period of time. (because eventually both of their tempers would run dry, and then the tutoring session would quickly devolve)

In fact, one such session was scheduled for today after school. Roman would be meeting up with Logan in the library for about half an hour to review things that would then immediately flee from his brain, never to return.

The school day passed slower than he would have liked, though this was normal considering it was Monday. He made his way to the library and found Logan in one of the smaller rooms specifically reserved for group study sessions. There was a notebook lying open on the table, but the nerd himself was scrolling through his phone, an unusual activity for him especially when he likely had homework to complete.

Logan looked up as Roman entered the room and closed the door behind him. He quickly shut off his phone, as if scared for him to see what he had been looking at and adjusted his glasses before speaking.

"Roman," he greeted and gestured to the chair next to him. "Feel free to take a seat."

Said student frowned as he complied. Something about Logan seemed slightly off. "Are you doing ok, Specs?" he asked.

"Me? I am quite alright, Roman. Thank you for your concern." Logan answered as he fidgeted with his tie. "I would like to ask the same of you. How are you doing?"

"Pretty well." The thespian responded. "I mean I am kind of tired considering the cast party was last night. I don't know why we held it on a school night honestly, and especially after-"

"Roman." Logan interrupted, looking quite uncomfortable. "While I do care about how tired you are, that er… wasn't the question I was asking." The nerd glanced at his friend, silently asking if he needed to elaborate or if Roman would figure it out on his own.

And he did.

It all came rushing back into his memory at once. His actions that Tuesday night. The confrontation at lunch that was now almost two weeks ago. The paragraph-like text from Logan. The almost panic attack in front of Virgil after just thinking about the subject. The freshmen that did his makeup not noticing anything. His actions.

"Roman." Logan's uncharacteristically gentle voice jerked him from his thoughts. "I apologize for not doing this in a more tactful way, but I am afraid I do not know how to. I believe it would be quite favorable to your health if you talked about this with someone. Would that be okay?"

Knowing that there was no excuse, no way to avoid it this time, Roman nodded slowly. He knew that this confrontation was coming. It had been approaching as he progressed through the past two weeks, but he hadn't wanted to think about it. Not the confrontation. And not what the confrontation was about.

"Do you want to talk about it with me?" Came Logan's voice. "Or perhaps Patton? Maybe Virgil?"

Roman shook his head. All three of his friends deserved an explanation, and he knew he didn't have the strength to give it more than once. "All of you." He managed to choke out. "All three of you at the same time."

Logan nodded and then stood up. "It would probably be best to complete this conversation as soon as possible as I am sure this is not a comfortable topic for you to discuss. I believe that both Patton and Virgil are free now, but I will text them. Where would you like to talk?"

Where would he be most comfortable talking about this? Nowhere was the real answer, but Roman knew he had to pick somewhere. He considered the school theater for a moment before coming to the conclusion that the space was too open for the details he wanted to share. He needed somewhere more confined, more cozy.

The obvious answer then presented itself to Roman, and he seized it, clamping his hand tight around it.

"My room." He finally answered. "Virgil will already be there, Patton knows where it is, and it's close to here."

Logan dipped his head in understanding as he quickly shoved his notebook into his backpack and sent a brief message on his phone. "Very well, then. Shall we make our way there now?"

Roman nodded, and the two friends made their way over to the Sanders household in what probably appeared to be a comfortable silence for Logan.

For Roman, however, his thoughts were racing in turmoil and disarray as he felt himself delve deeper into what-if situations and worst-case scenarios. He thought Logan was completely oblivious to all of this until he realized that he was subconsciously matching his breathing to the steady 4-7-8 of Logan's. Roman sent a telepathic thank you to the nerd because if anyone would be a mind reader, it would definitely be Logan.

The negative thoughts were kept slightly at bay thanks to the breathing pattern, but they were still there. Taunting him and causing the tight knot in his chest. The confrontation had been dragged out for so long, it felt like Roman was trying to pull off a band-aid, but he was doing it as slow as he possibly could, so the pain was maximized. Roman was ready to just rip the band-aid off and get it all over with. The delay was making him even antsier.

After what seemed like years to the thespian, but in reality was only 10 minutes or so, the two students arrived at the Sanders household. Roman looked up at his home, a place that had never made him feel anxious before, but now the tightness in his throat and chest was telling him otherwise. He took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, unsure if he was ready for the upcoming conversation to unfold.

Virgil was sitting on the floor leaning against the side of his bed when Roman and Logan walked in. His phone was in his hand, and he was probably scrolling through Tumblr. He offered a peace sign as a greeting when the other two boys entered the room but didn't look up from his phone or acknowledge that they were there in any other way.

Roman sat down, leaning against his bed so he was directly facing Virgil. Logan sat down between them, leaving the space opposite of him open for Patton. This was the way the four had always sat when hanging at Roman and Virgil's place: with the twins leaning against their respective beds, Patton sitting against the wall, and Logan opposite of him. Roman often joked that Logan didn't need to sit against the wall because his posture was already perfect.

Without removing his focus from his phone, Virgil said, "Patton just texted me. He'll be her-"

"Hiya kiddos!" Patton exclaimed as he entered the room, interrupting Virgil's now redundant statement. His tone was light, but his eyes were filled with concern. "Lo said we're having a meeting about some stuff Roman's been dealing with?"

All eyes were then focused on Roman, and he swallowed thickly, uncomfortable from the sudden attention. "Err yeah um…"

Roman's attempt to find a good way to start was cut off by Patton laying a reassuring hand on his knee. His friend had sat down while he had been stuttering like a flustered schoolboy confessing to his crush. The gesture was warm and gentle, and Roman immediately felt at ease. There was something about Patton's presence that always calmed him. It was like an aura of everlasting support and love was always surrounding his emotional friend.

The drama student let his eyes meet Patton's, and the extra reassurance there was all he needed to find the words start. He took a deep breath and put his hand over Patton's as a physical reminder that he was not alone. "I developed a… habit recently, and Logan helped me a little bit to realize that it's not very healthy and that I should talk about it with someone. And I trust you guys, and I think it's only right that you should know about this."

"Roman," Virgil breathed as his twin paused. "Take all the time you need." The thespian looked up to meet Virgil's eyes, and the clear message of "I love you" shone in them.

Roman fought back tears, whether from stress, nervousness, or happiness, he wasn't sure. He broke contact with Virgil and looked down again. "I've been pulling my eyelashes out. I don't know exactly when it started, but it was maybe around a month ago. I'm not really sure why either, but it just sort of… happened. And I know it's bad, and I shouldn't be doing it, but it's satisfying, and nobody ever noticed it until Logan did, but Idon'tknowifIcanstoporwanttostop."

"Breathe, Roman. On my count." Logan softly began counting to four, and the thespian followed his lead as he allowed his lungs to expand and contract in time with the rhythm. He heard Virgil softly tapping to the beat, probably unconsciously, and that soothed him as well.

"What do you want us to do?" Patton asked.

Roman turned to look at him, confused by his question. "What do you mean?"

"We want to help you in any way we can, kiddo, but we don't know what you want us to do. Do you want us to maybe find alternate things you can do? Or if you think therapy is the solution, we could chip in to help pay for that?"

He shook his head. "I don't think therapy is the right solution. I mean it's not like it's an actual mental thing or anything. But yeah, maybe finding other things to do might be helpful-"

"Trichotillomania." Logan interrupted. "An impulsive-control disorder where people have urges to pull out their hair." He made eye contact with Roman. "I did some research. It is a genuine mental disorder, and therapy is a perfectly valid option if you think it will be constructive."

Roman's eyes widened. "You mean it's an actual thing? And I'm not the only one with it?"

Logan nodded. "You are not alone in this Roman, and you never were. There are others who have experienced this, and then, of course, we are here to support you in any way we possibly can."

"We sure are, Ro!" exclaimed Patton. "That's what friends are for!"

The drama student felt tears welling up, and for once, he let them flow down his cheeks. "Thanks, you guys. I love you all so much."

"Aww, we love you too, Roman!" Patton said.

"Group hug?" Virgil offered.

"Group hug!" Patton and Roman confirmed at the same time. Roman mumbled jinx under his breath which made Patton giggle.

The four friends leaned in as Logan murmured something about how a group hug would indeed be adequate.

Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil as he felt Logan lean into his left side and Patton into his right, and the warmth and physical contact of the hug reassured him.

Roman had trichotillomania. He had a disorder where he pulled out his hair. It was something he would most likely struggle with the rest of his life, but that was okay because it did not define him.

Roman was a thespian. He loved the arts in every way possible, and he had a creative mind. And above all, he had the best friends in the entire world who would love and support him no matter what. And that was what mattered.

So I posted this on Ao3 about a month ago, but it took me this long to realize that I could post it here too. Hopefully this was actually okay, and everyone was kind of in character.

Thanks for reading, and have a lovely day!