just imagine me away (tronnor)

1.21

yoooooo guess who's back

me

with a new update 

that's a complete filler chapter that no one cares about

anyways...

Songs Mentioned: "Heartache On The Big Screen" 5 Second of Summer

Emily

I woke up in a good mood. I plugged in my earbuds and started singing along to Heartache on the Big Screen. "Started out like in the movies, but ended like a bad dream...Curtain opened, heard the crowd roar," I sang softly. "This one's a repeat, seen it before..."

I crawled out of bed and downstairs, where I started to pull out ingredients for pancakes. "The camera's rolling, and I forgot my lines." I danced around the kitchen, pulling out a wooden spoon and shoving a drawer closed. "My script is ripped and now I see..." 1.5 cups of flour. 3.5 teaspoons of baking powder. "This is heartache on the big screen!" 

I sifted together the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. "Curtain closes on this cliché, a good story of a bad day..." I poured in the milk and eggs, and the melted butter. "Back to square one, where I started, as I stand here broken-hearted." I danced around the kitchen, mixing it all together. "Fast forward to the end, after everyone's gone home, and they've forgotten it all."

The pancakes were piled on a plate, I was setting it down on the table when Troye came downstairs. "Hey, Em. Make some for me too?"

I laughed, not surprised that he had stayed overnight instead of going home. "Of course I did. You and Con have fun last night?" I asked, winking suggestively.

"I hate you," he muttered. "But yes. And not in the way you think!"

I burst out laughing, probably waking everyone up. "Here, take a pancake, idiot."

"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite. As he ate, Connor came downstairs, rubbing his eyes and obviously still half asleep.

"Hey guys. Em, did you make these?"

"Yup," I told him, swallowing another bite. "Mom and Dad awake yet?"

"Well if they weren't, they are now," Connor said with a mouth full of food. I shook my head at him, then turned to say good morning to our parents. Dad didn't say anything, just sat down and served himself a plate of food. 

"Morning, Connor. Emily," Mom said, yawning. "Troye - wait. Troye, why are you still here? I thought Jack told you to go home at some point?"

"I did!" Dad protested. "It's not my fault he didn't actually leave."

"Troye, your dad is going to be so worried about you, did you at least call him?"

Troye closed his eyes. "Dammit, I knew we forgot something. I'll, uh, just head home now."

"Troye - " Connor and I started to say, but he shook his head.

"I'll see you guys at school tomorrow," he said cheerily. "Thanks for the pancakes, Em."

"Bye, Troye!" I waved before pouring more syrup.

"So why'd he have to leave?" Connor asked, glaring at Mom.

"His dad will be worried."

"I'm sure it would have been fine. I mean, his dad knows us right?"

"Yes, Connor, but he had to go home for other reasons, too."

I froze. Connor didn't know yet. He frowned.

Mom froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Right. Uh. He has medicine and things that he has to take every morning, and staying over for pancakes might not have been a good idea. Connor, Troye's been awake for maybe seven or so years or something, but not everything is completely right."

Connor turned to me, confused still, and I sighed. Troye had wanted this to be his own thing to deal with, and now that Connor knew, he would be constantly checking in and making sure that everything was okay. "Depression, general anxiety, random blackouts no one understands where he either does stuff he won't remember later or he passes out and everyone gets freaked out a little then he wakes up, random inability to move, lots of physical therapy, he's very prone to any kind of sickness, etc. But, Con, he's dealing with it, okay? Not you. So kind of, pretend you don't know?" Connor nodded, his plate still half full but would probably go uneaten.

"Got it. I don't know any of this." Then he stood up and walked upstairs, probably still scared of what could've happened if Troye had stayed for breakfast, or lunch, or even just the rest of the day like they probably both wanted. 

Mom stood up, making to follow him. "Meredith, let him have some time alone," Dad said, pulling her down. Reluctantly, she sat and continued to eat, all while shooting worried glances at the stairway.

I stood up abruptly, having finished, and walked to my room quietly. Before I settled at my desk, I looked back at the table. No one was glancing to see where I had gone.

- - - -

I headed to Connor's room just after dinner. He had eaten in silence, and while Dad hadn't noticed and Mom had been too worried to go after him, I was the one checking in to make sure he wasn't sobbing on his bed blaming himself for world hunger. (That might've happened last time he found out something he wasn't supposed to - that we had an Aunt Rose who was dying of cancer, though he had never met her. Connor had a few flaws and that major one was that even when he had no connection to things, he always thinks that he could've done something to fix the world. He always blamed himself for everything.)

"Connor?"

"Come in," he muttered on the other side of the door.

"You okay?"

"Of course."

I sat next to him. "You're not okay."

"I know," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Can I just pretend that I am for now?"

"Yeah."

Let's pretend.