Work Text:
Friends come and go. Bruce doesn’t mind much. He has a few people he’s friendly with; a few people he let Mom meet. He’s been invited over to a couple of houses. That’s enough for him.
But, they’re all surface-level— superficial. They get the same treatment everyone in his life does. Indifference is the closest feeling to describe it. He’s just… not interested in the effort it takes to make a genuine connection like that. There’s little worth in trying.
(When he was a kid, there were times when he imagined he wasn’t human. He pictured the black-eyed, green-skinned aliens approaching him with kindness and kinship, because… he was one of them. Bruce was from the stars.)
Interacting with people feels more like a task to check off the list than anything else. Peers, family, lovers, strangers— they’re all the same. They’re either obstacles or observers.
(Mom is special in that she is someone who loves him. Bruce doesn’t know many else who do.)
He doesn’t have a confidant; there is no person on Earth who has a clue what’s going on in his head.
He doesn’t mind that, either. Not anymore.
Bruce keeps to himself, and that’s just how he prefers it.