Troyler One-Shot Collection

♣The Photo Booth Pt. 1♣️

Also, it's official: I'm in love with Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift. I may or may not have listened to it for four hours in a row, I mean we'll never know.

Also, this may or may not be a bit of a PLL AU, in which Troyler is Emily and Maya [ minus the whole A thing, the "murder" ( if you've read the book, you'll know that there actually was a murder whoops ) ( also MAJOR SPOILER ALERT FOR EVERYTHING ELSE IN PARENTHESIS BUT I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THIS but Maya never died in all sixteen books of the series, just thought I should let you all know ) ( also Caleb and Paige never existed ) ( also Spencer ended up with Wren and Ezra was an asshat and Hanna married Aria's brother and Aria was with Noel and Emily was all over the place ), being into someone before they disappeared, etc. Just, well, you probably remember the photo booth thing... ]

But yeah, they're both sixteen, they're in high school, yeah yeah yeah I won't say anything else.

Troye POV

Naturally, the one day where my life truly does change forever is the day that the practically unthinkable happens, the one occurrence that everyone knew was possible but extremely unlikely, the one matter of circumstances that no one ever considered a logical thing to predict.

Naturally.

Before this happened, I thought I could go through life in the predictable, conventionally "normal" lifestyle, never once fully questioning the unthinkable suspicion that had been a constant inkling in the back of my mind for so long. I though I could live the life everyone, including my parents, believed I would live, with a stunning wife, a steady career, may a kid or two, and a dog. Never once worrying about money, never once questioning the relationship I had with this mystery woman, never once thinking that it wouldn't be exactly like that.

But no. Because for reasons unfathomable to me, my next door neighbors, the Frantas, moved away without a word. I never even got to say goodbye, even though one of their sons, Connor, was one of my best friends.

Anyways, that was quite a shock for the entire perfect town Rosewood, Pennsylvania, the town of dolls. I don't say that I'm a joking manner, either; everything looks perfect, shiny, and clean, right? Well, as it is, most of the people here are cold-hearted, not caring much about other people as long as self-preservation was involved, and only out for themselves. No one questions it, though: why would you, when you're supposed to believe that everyone is perfect?

It doesn't matter much. The point is, the Frantas are gone, no one has any idea what happened to them, and it was the greatest piece of gossip for the town's residents to discuss amongst themselves ever since they've been gone. Some have even deemed the Franta house bad luck, as no one has even attempted to move into it, in the two years that it had been empty. A bad omen, everyone called it.

But then one day, when I was walking home from school in my usual stride, earbuds in listening to Taylor Swift's new album, I saw the sight that everyone, including myself, thought impossible.

Moving trucks inside on the Franta house's driveway.

Or should I say, former Franta house.

I yanked my earphones out, stuffing them haphazardly in my jumper's front pocket, and jogged up to the house to see what was going on. Boxes were laid out on the sidewalk, clearly theirs, as they were duct taped shut and freshly packaged. Another U-Haul truck was parked on the curb, the back propped open with a random assortment of furniture inside.

Then I saw some boxes familiar to me, with a few knick-knacks poking out. Connor's stuff. I walked slowly, as if in a trance, towards the box. Recognizing all sorts of things of his, such as various swimming medals, a burgundy jumper, and even a picture of the group of the five friends we all used to be - Connor, Caspar, Joe, Alfie, and I - I reached a hand out, to touch the remnants of a friend I've missed for so long when a voice called out.