(Pt 2 to The Lost Boy)
Connor's POV
It wasn't until a year later that I heard of Troye Mellet again.
It was a warm Thursday morning, and as I sat eating my breakfast, my eyes widened, suddenly glued to the TV screen.
"Upcoming Australian artist Troye Sivan will be playing on the Tonight Show this Tuesday, singing Youth from his new debut album, Blue Neighbourhood."
I nearly spat out my musli. I watched in awe as pictures of his face flashed on my news channel, the date of his American performance suddenly ingrained in my head.
How was this possible? The lost little boy, I had saved, had tuned into some sort of pop star, a hundred miles from the cold streets of LA, back into fame, as if he was born into the trade.
I was proud, but my heart unwillingly fell. I felt rejected, as if he had just forgotten about me. I felt as if I could be responsible for his success, and I had gone a year without a single call from him.
Did he really just forget me?
I paced around my kitchen, stopping infront of my Mac book in a sudden sulk. I furiously typed at the keypad, searching for his name amongst other Australian artists.
I saw his success, and gasped, my eyes trailing themselves along the vast amount of followers he'd received. He seemed to be some sort of international star, one that I had for some reason never heard of.
I contemplated my thoughts for a few minutes, unknowingly staring into his ocean blue eyes. I felt my hands clam up, and I but my lip indecisively.
I had to see him, I had to see him again.
-Time Skip-
It was a few days later when I arrived at the tonight show. I had paid for a ticket, slowly weaving through the audience to get a front row seat.
Troye was on as a guest, prepared to preform his most popular song. I was excited to see his face, but I couldn't help the anger that rippled through me.
Why did he just forget about me? What had I done wrong? I had been nothing but kind to this boy. I had rescued him and flown him into success.
And all I got was a blank screen, and a phone number that was probably invalid.
Of course he wouldn't want to stay in touch with me. He was better than me now.
"I would like to welcome to the show an Australian Artist, who today, is making his debut performance of Youth, from his number one selling album, Blue Neighbourhood. Please put your hands together for TROYE SIVAN!"
He began to sing, holding the microphone lightly between his fingers. He looked different with his hair styled. His long curls were no longer matted, but siting quite perfectly, styled with jel. He no longer hugged my coat for warmth, but wore a jacket, one that looked ridiculously expensive as well.
His bright blue eyes were brighter than before, and he grinned out into the audience, shaking his hips to the beat of the song.
He looked as if he had never felt pain, he looked as if he had been born into the stardom from a child, raised in a mansion full of singing coaches and diamond rings.
He wasn't the boy I had met a year ago.
And I didn't like the change.
Maybe I didn't want to know him after all.
The song was nearly ending, his music playing the show out. I saw people stand, teenagers behind me scream. I stood with the crowd, slowly clapping my hands too. He was good, better than amazing, but I just felt disheartened, as if he would never notice me in the crowd.
"Thank you, thank you." He was beginning to speak to the crowd, putting his hands out as an affectionate gesture. "Thank you so much New York." He grinned, the same smile he showed me when I gave him the money.
I felt angry. I was right in front of him, right underneath his chin, and he hardly even noticed me.
Was I that easy to forget?
-Time skip-
After leaving the studio, I walked into the streets, taking a defeated seat on the sidewalk bench. I looked down at my shoes, humming the tune of his song in my head.
I had secretly wanted him to notice me, throw is mic to the floor, and run to tackle me in a hug. I wanted to feel his warmth, his gratitude. But I was left feeling depressed, a sense of worthlessness, as if I was never really needed by him.
He said he would repay me, but where was my thank you? Was it in the words of a song? Or maybe in the fortune he had earned himself.
I just wanted his friendship.
Was that too much to ask for?
I began to rise from my perch, slowly walking through the streets of New York. My head hung low, and I clutched the free CD we all received at the show, reading the various songs this boy had written.
"CONNOR WAIT!" I was suddenly snatched from my thoughts, as I stopped dead in my tacks, spinning on my heal to face the very person I couldn't stop thinking about.
"T-Troye?" I mumbled, my face a picture of shock as he gripped my shoulders. "Y-You remember me?" I was stumped for words, biting on my lip with nerves as he pulled me into a hug.
"How could I forget you Connor? How could you leave without saying something to me? I saw you in the crowd and my heart melted." He was grinning into my shirt like an idiot, taking my hand with the same smile he did a year ago.
This time though, I pulled away.
"You managed to rise to fame, become some sort of pop sensation, and you didn't even think to text me? You promised you would stay in touch!" I felt my anguish rise, and I gulped it back, in a bid to withhold my composure.
"I-I wanted to surprise you." He muttered, looking upset as I got distressed.
"What?"
"I wanted to thank you properly. I thought that if I got back on my feet, I could show you what you really did for me, how you saved my life. You said that my happiness was all the thanks you needed, and I didn't want to thank you until I was truly in that place."
His little speech, made me breathless, my anger tamed and was suddenly replaced with the warmth I felt a year ago.
He was still the same boy.
"Troye I, I don't know what to say?" I smiled, reaching out to rehold his hand. He had tears in his eyes, and I wiped them carefully, with the back of my thumb.
"Say that you'll go out to dinner with me, tonight." He chuckled, intertwining our fingers, looking down at them with eyes full of nerves.
"Of course, of course I'll go to dinner with you Troye." I grinned.
-Time Skip-
"Let me lead you to your table sir"
I smiled as the waiter guided us to a seat in the fanciest restaurant in New York. Troye was still gripping my hand, and lead me briskly to a chair, pulling it out like a true gentlemen.
"So, how have you been." He asked, taking no time to start a conversation. He had presented a bottle of wine, and was suddenly pouring it out for the pair of us.
"I've been better, my company went bust." I spoke honestly, looking down at the red liquid as it swirled around in the glass.
"Oh, Connor I'm so sorry. It was such a new and positive idea. I thought, well I thought you'd be making millions." He sighed, giving me a sympathetic glare.
I explained to him how the sales had just declined, and how the company lacked new ideas. I told him about my lack of inspiration, and the many down days I had faced this year. I told him about how I lost my high street apartment and was now comfortable in a two bedroom flat.
Throughout the whole conversation,, he seemed as if he would cry.
"I-I just don't understand." He mumbled, scraping at his plate with a huff. "How can such bad things happen to such a good person?" He gulped back his sadness and reached out to hold my hand. I could feel myself shaking and I wasn't sure why.
"Sometimes life just doesn't work out the way you want it to. You of all people know that life can change. It's no big deal, I just have to play the cards I'm dealt." I tried to explain myself without worrying him. He didn't need to know that I was in a financial debt of more than what his career was worth. He didn't need to know my worries.
I had made it my job to make him happy, and I wasn't about to ruin it.
"Connor, you deserve so much more than this." He sighed, rubbing his hand against my shoulder. "Do you have anything else to tell me? What about your love life?" He winked, smirking as I blushed red.
"My love life is about as existent as a bunch of flying pigs with rainbows coming out of their ass." I chuckled, shaking my head as he began to laugh.
"I see." He replied, suddenly sitting silent. "Y-you're b-beautiful Con." He stated, exhaling shakily as I began to tense.
He was gay?
"So are you Troye, you know you're gorgeous." I tried not to blush, but it became inevitable as I fiddled with my fingers. He was staring at me. Neither of us spoke.
This was awkward.
"I'm going to the restroom, I'll be back soon." I suddenly rose from my seat, placing my napkin over my empty plate. I looped my jacket on my chair and headed away, anything to relieve the sudden tension.
Had he just admitted that he liked me?
Did I have a chance?
I hoped so.
-Time Skip-
"Is been so lovely seeing you Connor." Troye beamed, as we began to walk from the restaurant.
We were having a stroll through Central Park, a place that looked undoubtably stunning in the evening air.
It had been a long night eventually, our conversation diverting to Troye's success in Australia. Unbeknown to me, he was a child star, featuring in films. He told me about how he was quite wealthy before the accident, and how sending him home caused him to begin writing again, writing until he got signed by a music label.
Troye had worked hard, and in my eyes, deserved every bit of luck he received.
"Troye, I hope we can stay in touch." I sighed, pulling him into my embrace for a final hug. He nodded, chocked up with tears as he pressed his face into my chest.
"Thank you Connor, I'd be nowhere without you." He whispered, pulling back from my comfort. He stared into my eyes, his ocean blue orbs suddenly fixed on my gaze.
"You're so handsome." He giggled, his hand resting on the side of my cheek. My throat locked at his comment, and my anxiety must have been apparent. He suddenly removed his touch, looking at me as if I was offended.
"I'm sorry if that's not your thing, I shouldn't have-"
"I like you too Troye." I blurted, my hand flying to my mouth in surprise. I had just voiced my thoughts, the air thick with tension as his eyes widened.
Great. Now look what you've done.
He didn't speak and neither did I. I just froze as he stepped forward, caressing my cheek with his fingers. He stroked back a lock of my hair, and then stared away, up at the walkway in Central Park.
"Thank you for saving my life Connor Franta."
He pressed his lips against mine, and I didn't resist. I leaned into his kiss, our lips connecting softly in the summer air. He smiled into the action, his hands looping around my neck.
"Wow." I sounded giddy as we pulled away. "Wow." I said again, my voice wavering in shock.
What. Just. Happened.
"I'll miss you Connor. This time I will stay in touch, I promise you." He was holding my hand again, his eyes teary as we had to part.
"Troye, you can't just leave it like this? We kissed? You kissed me." I struggled to speak, too taken back by the situation. My heart was pounding.
"There will be plenty more to come. Just check your pocket."
With that he walked away, his figure growing distant as I stood confused.
How could he just leave me like that? On such a cliffhanger? I wasn't a book you could just put down, an object you could mess around with.
I was a person. A person with feelings for him.
I waited until I was alone before checking my coat pocket. I was confused by the gesture, but did as I was told.
Nestled in the depths of my jacket was a brown envelope, sealed and finished with my name.
I took a seat on the nearby bench, pealing it open.
Dear Connor,
I slipped this in your pocket when you went to the restroom. I was supposed to call by your house on my way back to Australia.
I had always wanted to give you this.
The day you saved me, was the day my luck slowly started to change. I became happier, and I became free. For that Connor Franta, I can not express my gratitude because it's more than what the world is worth.
I told you that one day I would repay you, and of course I am a man of my word.
Thank you for being my saviour, and I feel elated to call you a friend.
Come and visit me in Australia, and we will hang out properly. This will not be the last time we meet.
With all my love,
Troye Sivan Mellet - The lost boy x
I emptied the contents of the envelope into my hand, and my eyes widened and watered.
There was a check for £10,000 and a plane ticket to Perth.
I was going to see him again. And that made me they happiest man in the world.