the boy they called troye

18

Lose It - Oh Wonder (Jerry Folk Remix)
It's late at night, and Connors 18. He's staring at the ceiling, the same plain white ceiling he stared at the previous nights before. The same plain white ceiling that's a sharp contrast to the bright colored flowers growing outside.

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering when he was 5 and his parents told him that they were moving to a new place. Perth, Australia. And Connor can remember being scared, and maybe a little bit excited, but mostly bored. Because what are you supposed to do on a 19 hour plane ride?

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering when he arrived at the big suburban home that's surrounded by equally big suburban homes. It's a little neighborhood, one where nothing ever changes and nothing's ever new.

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering when see saw him for the first time. He was unpacking his box of light sabers and Legos when something caught his eye. There's a window on the very far side of his room right above his bed that you can see over the fence threw. At first Connor was opposed to the idea of being on the second floor but he gave in, and now he regrets it. He can remember looking up for that split second and finding him there, short and pudgy and all alone. Everything got brighter.

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering when he was 6 and was waiting at the window for a glimpse of the curly haired boy that wandered to the field of flowers everyday. He had asked his mom who he was only earning a distracted shrug, after all mothers aren't supposed to know about little boys that probably shouldn't be alone but are.

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering when he was 8 and he saw the boy return with another boy and remembering the pange of jealousy he felt. He looked the same age, his hair blonde and his jaw way to sharp for a little boy.

"Mathew listen," he remembers the boy saying. "This is a very special place for me. I come here everyday so you can't tell anyone about it!" Connor wanted to be apart of the secret. They left with a handful of flowers and returned the next day with them in their hair, bond together like crowns. The boy with curly hairs was a bright yellow, and Mathews was blue. Connor remembers that when he probably shouldn't, that's the last time he saw Mathew.

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering the stories from middle school. 'Oh him?' They'd say, happy for something to gossip about. They say he's a little bit crazy, that he's homeschooled because he's not aloud to be around other kids. His eyes where to bright and his arms where to long.

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering being 10 and hearing the boy sing for the first time. It was nothing beautiful, but the kind of voice that demands you to listen. He was laying on his stomach amongst the flowers like he was everyday when Connor got home from school. He had a pile of random colored flowers next to him and he was weaving them together to make another on of his crowns that ever since that day with Mathew he's never taken off. Only to change colors that is.

It's late at night and Connors 18, remembering when he was 14 and the boy who was 13 looked like he was 7. He was small and on occasion when he'd speak to himself Connor could hear how small his voice was too. Then when he was 15 and Connor learned from friends that the boy was 14 he looked a little...out of place. His arms grew to long while the rest of him was short and his eyes where to big for his face. It didn't last long though, when he turned 15 and Connor 16 (he kept tabs on the boy in the flower field) everything evened out and he was just tall and he was just skinny and his eyes where still bright, his hair still curly.

It's late at night and Connors 18, and he's remember every Friday since he saw Mathew because every Friday Troye wears the same black crown of flowers. Connor had heard the story of Mathew before and not the one in the bible his mother carries every Sunday but the one of the boy Troye used to know.

It's late at night and Connors 18, recalling the story like someone's telling him right this second. Mathew was sad. To sad to be a little boy, to broken to be happy, and too confused to go any further. There's a cliff, so Connor has heard, that over looks the sea only a few miles out of the small suburban neighborhood where nothing ever happens and nothing's ever new. Supposedly this sad little boy Mathew jumped off of it they way you would jump off a jetty. With eyes happy and body damp.

It's late at night and Connors still 18, remembering that Saturday when Troye walked back to the filed of flowers with an extra crown in his hands, a purple one in his hair. The one in his hand was the one that used to be in Mathews hair and Connor watched as Troye sat there and painted the flowers black. They must have been fake ones, Connor thought, which is weird because Troyes were all real.

It's late at night and Connors 18, laying in his bed thinking of boy that's somewhere laying in his own bed and he closes his eyes, but the memories won't stop playing.
----
Am I Beyoncé yet?

(Get it because I randomly dropped a book? No okay I'll leave)