Sunday 23rd February 2014
Troye's POV
"Troye, I don't know what's wrong with him, he has barely left his room in days!" Ricky Dillon fretted down the phone. "You're our last hope, he'll talk to you!" He added, before knocking on Connor's door again. I could hear Connor's muffled reply from his room, and an agonising shout for Ricky to go away.
"See, he won't talk to us!" Ricky now came back on the phone, his voice sounding weak and fragile, as if Connor's closed off behaviour had hurt him. I nodded to myself, my phone now pushed up against my ear as I rushed through the airport.
"Well, I'm boarding my plane in an hour, so I will be there tomorrow night." I mumbled as I wobbled past a few people. My bags were too heavy to carry, and I was alone, due to booking a spontaneous trip to LA all of a sudden.
I heard Ricky ramble a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone, now leaving me faced with a long haul flight and worry gathering in the pit of my stomach. I really did wonder about Connor sometimes. I wondered what he kept from me, something so big that he had to bottle it up and hide from the world. As much as I loved him, his fragile personality scared me. I didn't want to break him.
I suppose I had always had a soft spot for him, a certain twinkle in his eyes captivating my attention. He was the sweetest soul, so perfect and beautiful, but he never believed that, and it worried me. I could probably say I had a little crush on him, scrap that, a mammoth crush on him, but he could never know, and that saddened me.
Just as my thoughts consumed me once again, I forgot I was standing in line, now ready to board a plane. God I hated flying. All of the screaming babies surrounding you, and the toilets the size of coffins, full of germs and incredibly tight. The only thing that usually got me through was the thought of LA, the beautiful scenery and the American youtubers. Or in my case Tyler and Connor, my two best friends.
I took my window seat, fortunately at the back of the plane, and now stretched my legs out, snuggling into my warm jumper and putting on my headphones. As much as this flight would kill me, I was doing it for Connor, so it was most definitely worth while.
Monday 24th February 2014
It was nighttime in LA, and the sounds of late night city traffic annoyed me, as I sat in a taxi, queued up between cars. I had to see Connor soon, or my worry would get the better of me. Throughout the flight I had constantly thought about every situation, each one leaving me in tears when I thought what he could be going through.
I had tried to text and call him, maybe lighten his mood whilst I was travelling on the road. Unusually there was no answer, each time his voicemail ringing through my ear. So, to calm my nerves, I constantly rung Ricky or Kian, just to make sure he was okay, still responding to their knocks.
As I got to the o2l house, I suddenly froze, my finger not wanting to ring the doorbell anymore. I wasn't sure why, but my heart was beating rapidly, my hands soon becoming clammy as I gripped my bags. I had a sense of dread in my stomach, a force that was pulling me back again. I want sure that I could handle Connor upset, it would physically pain me.
Soon enough I managed to knock on the door. My head kicked in and told me what to do. Connor needed me, and I wasn't about to let him down.
"Just knock and tell him you're here." Ricky smiled as we stood outside of his room. Kian was taking my luggage down the hall, a clear look of concern on his face as we worried about Connor. Before I knew it, I made one bang on the wood, now interrupted by a load groan from behind it.
"Con it's me." I stuttered, desperately hoping he would let me in. I could hear movement in the room, a loud sound of footsteps now getting closer. Suddenly the door swung open, revealing him, my friend, my crush, my Connie.
"Troye?" He questioned, confusion easily lacing his voice. "What are you doing here?" He added, now looking down at the floor, obviously avoiding eye contact.
"I was worried about you." I answered, my arms slightly opening, hoping to pull him in for a small squeeze. He saw the gesture and almost fell into my embrace, now feeling quite fragile as I held him. His hair was flat against his head and he was dressed in no more than sweats, but he was beautiful nevertheless, his green eyes still sparkling, even with their now bloodshot appearance.
"Can I come in?" I asked, leading him over to the bed, his frail body still gripping onto mine. We sat down, closely but with enough space to breathe. I studied his features, frowning as I saw his tired eyes, and pale face. He really wasn't looking after himself.
"Connie, what's wrong babe?" I smiled, taking his shaking hands in mine. He looked down at them, Flinching as a tear escaped. He looked like he was about to break, too sleep deprived to form a normal sentence, to emotional to even look at me.
"I'm wrong." He whispered covering his face with his hands. I had expected him to pull the 'I'm fine card' or 'I'm just a bit stressed', but this time he was going to open up to me, and as much as it killed me to see him cry, he needed to let it out.
"Connor, there is nothing wrong with you, you're perfect in every way." I soothed, edging closer to him. I saw him shake his head, his face still buried in his sweaty palms. I knew he was about to crack, and before I knew it a loud whimper left his body, tears streaming from his eyes.
"Con, you need to tell me what's going on!" I spoke up, now pulling him into my chest as he sobbed. I cupped his face in my hand, and caressed his cheek. For a minute we looked like a couple, or at least something with a spark. He stared at me, his eyes judging mine. It was almost like he was trying to read my mind, decide whether to tell me something. I had a gut feeling that this something was big, very big.
"T-Troye p-please l-listen and d-don't hate m-me." Connor hiccuped, now trying to dry his tears. I brought my hand up to his face, wiping his eyes with the tip of my thumb. He seemed comfortable with it, so I nodded my head, gesturing for him to talk.
"I-I'm, I-m" he stuttered, biting his lip so hard it left an imprint on his gum. I took his hands in mine and smiled, nervous as he gulped down the lump in his throat. "I'm not going to hate you, no matter what it is." I added, hoping that would encourage him.
"I-I'm gay." He cried, now falling into my lap, his hysterics now getting me emotional too. He didn't dare look at my expression, fearing I would be mad or confused. But I was ecstatic. Even with this fragile moment, my stomach couldn't help but release fireworks of excitement, my ever growing crush now exploding.
"I'm so proud of you Connor!" I beamed, grinning wildly as he brought his head up. I saw a small smirk plaster itself on his face, his eyes now sparkling again as he realised it was over, now that his weight had been released.
"You're not mad?" He questioned, clearly astonished as I started laughing. I was gay too! Why on earth would I not accept him? I shook my head, and reached out to hug him again, now kissing his head as we got close.
"Is it better now that you have told someone?" I asked, rubbing his shoulder as he slid against me. I felt him nod against my chest before slowly closing his eyes. It was understandable that he was tired, he hadn't slept in days.
"It's better now that I'm cuddling you." A few words slipped out if his mouth, his mind probably hazy as he went to sleep. Fortunately he was too tired to see my cheeks flush Crimson, because little did he know, that cuddling him made everything better for me too.
