Fear Evan Hansen

12

Oh goodness this is gonna break the fourth wall so much. *hands y'all Flex Tape*. Be prepared.

Jared's POV: (sorry. I just love writing his POV)

I got off the floor, lying on my bed. I stared at the ceiling, my eyes stung and I had the urge. The urge to do something that completely ruins me. The urge to do something idiotic.

But just the thought of getting out of bed was nauseating. I used all of the strength I had to grab my phone. Only because it was ringing. "Hello?" My voice was quiet, almost raspy. "Hey Jer! Are you ok?! Where are you?!" Oh fuck it's Evan..

"Well Zoe told me you didn't need me. So I'm at home right now."
"Why would she say that?" He sounds worried.

"Oh well, I wouldn't know, it's not like you hate me or anything." I said in a sarcastic tone.

"What? I don't- I- No I don't hate you-" He stammered out.

"Well then why did you tell your precious little girlfriend that you did, huh?!" My voice cracked, even more tears forming.

"I-I-I was just- I told her that I did. I said I hated you. But I was joking! It was all- all just a joke! I thought she- I thought she was smart enough to figure that out-" I'm not ready for another argument.

"Ok. Whatever. Bye Evan."
"No wai-!" I hung up.

I shouldn't have done that, but it was irreversible. Sure, I could call him back, but I don't want to face that embarrassment.

Instead, I layed on my bed and contemplated life decisions.

"God Evan. I miss you already." My voice gave out, I talked to myself. It's just me, myself, and I. That's all I have.

Just call him back, you won't regret it.

No. I fucking refuse.

Suit yourself. But I promise you, he doesn't hate you.

I'm desperate to change the topic. Please let us change to topic.

Ok. You want a topic change? Remember when I spoke about this thing called a 'reader'?

Of course I remember.

Would you like me to explain? Or no.

"PLEASE."

Ok ok, just...prepare yourself. This is gonna be a lot to take in.

Ok. I'm prepared.

I sat up in bed, worrying what it could be talking about.

So. You aren't real.

The fuck is that supposed to mean?

So you know...just gimme a sec. I need to think of a- Oh! You know Spongebob, right? He's a fictional character!

Yeah?

You are also one of those!

"What?!" I said out loud, my head spinning and my hands trembling with what I would guess is shock.

Yeah. You're from a musical. And you're in a fan fiction.

"Like...those ones I wrote back in middle school? I'm in a- How?!"

Yeah. Like those pieces of shit.

"Rude. Well is there an author? Or something?"

Why yes, author?