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In his own head Bob was someone amazing and talented, he was the hot popular jock that all the cheerleaders and hot girls wanted to date; he was the super smart kid that could answer complex math equations in seconds; he was the one with unlimited talents who could do anything and everything...
But to everyone else Bob was a loser, a stuttering, socially awkward mess. No one liked him, hell, half the kids in his class didn't even know he existed until junior year of highschool. But even with everyone teasing him and him being bullied or going unnoticed 24/7, he still knew he had potential, he knew if he had just gotten through the screaming voices in his head he could be the person he always saw in his head, the sexy smart kid.
But getting through those voices was hard when his mom barely paid attention to him and his dad paid too much attention. The most his mom gave a shit about him was when he was born, when he was small and cute, before she knew how much of a loser he'd turn out to be, and frankly his dad was just a pure asshole, he would raise his voice and get angry at him when he simply breathed the wrong way.
Bob cared too much about what people thought about him, whenever someone threw a snarky comment at him he threw one back (they were never good though). He kept his head low, pretending to not hear when people whispered and giggled about him. He was tired of caring. So fucking tired of it. But he couldn't help it, with all his self-doubt he couldn't help but care inside his head, his thoughts racing, beating him down more than his dad did.
"God his glasses are so big"
"His hair's so greasy all the time"
"I heard not even his mom gives a shit about him"
"Explains a lot, he probably barely got hugged as kid"
"The most he's been touched by is probably from his own hands"
Whispering is all he ever heard around him, sometimes the occasional loud comment and then the bursting of laughter from everyone in the area.
The only peace he could find was the extra work his teachers assigned him for after school because frankly he was never the smartest, that's one thing he knew he'd never be able to get good at. Of course the work frustrated him but at least he was frustrated over the work and not the people around him. And with the work came the teachers - they were patient and friendly. It wasn't just to Bob, they were funny with everyone, Bob wasn't that special.
Whenever he'd try to talk it came out wrong, he always stuttered or said the wrong word or spoke his phrase wrong, it was rare when he got out a straightforward sentence. It was another thing his dad would discipline him for, so in general it was rare for him to speak at all. Even when his dad wasn't around he felt like he'd get a smack on the head for speaking wrong, but what replaces the smacks were giggles and teasing, so he resorted to silencing himself through the entirety of highschool, he barely heard his own voice at all.
Then when he finally got into the naval academy he was hoping for a fresh start, for less teasing, but he got the same from most of his squad, there were a fair few that didn't completely hate him, but they still gave him light teases from time-to-time, even those got into his head, making him mad. It wasn't even the comments that made him mad, it was the fact how much they bothered him. He liked to call himself a touchy feely fool, someone who always laughed outside and joked with everyone around him, but he was always secretly stuck in his head, asking stupid questions, some that didn't apply to the situation and some that went too deep. He very often got caught up in the web of the several voices racing in his mind, telling him lies that meant nothing, that he knew meant nothing, but they still impacted him and aggravated him.
Whenever he got the chance to talk to one of his fellow teammates he felt like spilling his guts out to them, telling them all his trauma and everything that's been happening to him since the ripe age of four-years-old. Nineteen years- it was - nineteen years of being stuck in the same godforsaken small town with only a few fake friends through the years and no one to tell his secrets to really fucked with him, fucked with him more and made him more fucked up than he already was. This made him an oversharer. He got too comfortable too fast.
Bob Floyd: the laughing stock of everywhere he went; the punchline to everyone's jokes... because that was all he was ever good for.