This is your one and only warning through out this entire story: This story has hard lemons and a LOT of yaoi!
If you are sensitive to graphic sexual behavior, please don't read this story!
Ships are: PewdieCry, CryBuscus, and MarziPlier.
All disclaimers are found on my profile!

The war changed everyone's lives. No one suspected Sweden to attack America. But they did, and they hit us multiple times in one day. Miami, New York, Los Angeles, and Houston, Texas were hit with brute force. I, myself was lucky to have been visiting Wyoming with my family when we went to my cousin's wedding that day. A few other YouTubers survived. Pewdie, Marzia, Markiplier, Tobuscus, and Ray all lived. But the rest that we knew were dead. All my friends... they were gone. It was the same with everyone else. The pain was nearly unbearable, like the air had been yanked out of your lungs. I remember falling to my knees, screaming when I found out the news. Miami was gone. Just flat, radioactive nothingness. Everyone dealt with it differently. Marzia and Pewdie started growing farther apart than they were before it happened. Marzia had been putting so much pressure on Pewdie to propose, and the blonde felt cornered. They were still very close, but now they were like two siblings rather than lovers. Markiplier was in Cincinnati at the time for a funeral. His mother had passed away. Bob and Wade, just by chance, had gone to LA to surprise him the day the bombs hit. Mark fell into such a dark place after that, and I felt so bad for him. It hurt him immensely to lose his father, then his step-mother, who died two months before the bombs hit. Now he had to attend funerals for two more people on top of mourning for his birth mother. Thank god Pewdie and Marzia split up when they did, or else Mark wouldn't be here today. Marzia helped him through all the pain he was in at that time and they started dating. Tobuscus lost his parents, friends, girlfriend, dog, everything. He dealt with it differently than all of us did. He started having anger issues first, then that turned to heavy drinking and having multiple people - men and women - in his bed every night. He gave up. No one, not even me, could help him. He refused us all and pushed everyone away, using loud music, sex, and alcohol to do so. Ray was in Chicago the day it happened. He was filming a movie. About two years back, he finally got what he wanted: a job as a director. He moved to Chicago away from his girlfriend about five months before the war started. They were planning to see each other again the month after the bombs hit. After Ray heard the news, he left. No one knows what he did or where he went. We just know that he's gone. And me? I was crushed. Snake, Minx, Scott, Russ, and Red were all gone. All my best friends. Just like that. I turned to alcohol and pushing people away, like Toby did, but I didn't sleep with everyone or party all night. I just woke up, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, downed it, recorded a video, drank another bottle of alcohol, edited and posted a video, ate, stared at the TV blankly as I kept drinking, and passed out. Every single day was like that. And nothing changed. Well... that's actually a lie. There was a big change. I started dating Pewdie. After Marzia and him broke up, he was a mess, and I was his shoulder to cry on. I was actually everyone's shoulder to cry on. When Marzia couldn't cry to Mark, when it got to be too much for my mom, and when my little brother had nightmares, I was there. I was the shoulder, keeping an emotional mask on my face at all times as not to let anyone see my true feelings. But I broke. It didn't happen until the day Pewdie left to go fight the war. He was on America's side, of course, since he was registered as an American citizen. He was the one good thing. The one light in my dark tunnel. And he was leaving. From the time I heard the news to to time I waved him off at the station, my face was constantly neutral. After he left, I broke down. My light was gone. I sobbed into my pillows, drank heavily, and never got up to do anything besides recording and posting games. The only reason I even did that was to keep money coming that my mom could use as well as the money her and Nathan earned from their jobs. Nathan was now 17 and worked at a local fast food restaurant. Mom, though she had the spirit, was no Rosie Riveter. She babysat for the neighbors and did housework around the neighborhood. Every now and again Nathan would also help with building a shed or fixing a car. We lived well. We had everything that we wanted. We were together. And they were happy. So, I guess that brings us to now. I'm here, outside of a nightclub here in Sacramento. We all lived here now, deciding to be close together. I could already feel the music slightly buzzing through me. Toby texted me less than an hour ago to meet him here. At first, I refused, but then my boredom got the better of me as I went to the club. I walked in, immediately being hit with the smell of booze and sweat. I tried to walk around, but was slowly pulled into the crowd, and pressed up against multiple people at once. I felt everyone grinding against me, and hands rubbing down my chest. I pulled away from the group and miraculously made it to the bar. I sighed before I headed up and sat on a stool. Thank god I remembered my wallet that night. "I'll have 3 Fourth of July shots," I said, handing the bartender the money I owed and watched him make my drink. I swallowed each one, wincing only the first time. I sat there for another ten or so minutes before I felt someone's breathing on my neck and hands on my waist. "Glad you could come," I heard Toby's voice slur. I sighed. Of course he was drunk off his ass. I tightly gripped his hands and tried to force them off of me, when he latched on to my neck with his mouth and his hand grabbed my dick through my pants. I gasped and immediately put my hands on the counter. The bartender noticed and slipped a key to Toby. "Your regular room is open," he said in a gruff voice. Toby smirked, and pulled me off the barstool before he started leading down to the room that the key was to. I did the worst thing I could have possibly done just then. I followed him.