*Tyler's POV*
I was vaguely aware of the people shouting after me, the people grabbing my arms and trying to keep me from running off.But ultimately, there was only one thing on my mind. Troye doesn't care about me. At all. I stopped finally, practically falling off my legs due to exhaustion. I was proud of myself. I'd at least made it to an alley before giving up and breaking down. I leaned back against the brick wall, enjoying the cold against my sweaty back. My breathing was jagged and uneven, but I didn't mind. Concentrating on it was a welcomed distraction from my own thoughts. My own thoughts about Troye.
I whimpered, sliding down against the wall until I was nearly sitting on the paved ground. I wanted to scream, to cry, to punch something so hard I broke bones, mine or theirs. But instead, I just sat there on my heels, feeling too strained to even react any longer. I listened to the shouting and blasting music coming from the building Playlist was being held at. I frowned, the guilt of abandoning my fans eating me alive. But it could of been worse, and I had to keep reminding myself of that. They could have seen me break down, fling myself at Troye and beg for him back like I'd almost done. Thankfully my mind had been a little bit more trustworthy even in it's broken state and I'd fled the scene instead.
"Fuck." I groaned, wondering when my life had become so freaking complicated. I loved my fans, I really did, but at a time like now they only made it worse on me. It's bad enough letting yourself down, but knowing there are millions of people that look up to you as well, now that's stressful. I jumped suddenly, my phone buzzing against my thigh and frightening me. I grab it hastily and scan the newest text, from none other than my good friend Sawyer.
"Tyler, where are you? It's practically a Troyler riot here after that show you put on. What were you thinking running off like that?" I grip the phone tightly, like breaking it would make Sawyer realize how much his words irritated me right now. Couldn't he see that I was hurting? He wasn't even worried about me, just about the reaction I got. It's like I wasn't even supposed to have a life of my own any longer, like I was supposed to be a machine dedicated solely to entertaining others. I wished I could be, I honestly did. I would give anything to turn off my emotions lately. I felt the phone go off again and glanced down with a smile, expecting a half-ass question asking if I was okay.
"I'm not kidding, get back here before things get any worse." So much for seeing if I was okay. I turn the phone off without a second's hesitation and shove it back into my pocket.I shake my head slowly, deciding that I'd have to make some changes to my life soon. I was done caring about people who couldn't do the same for me.
Ten minutes later and I was standing in front of a run-down liquor store. Originally I'd planned to grab some alcohol and head back to my hotel room, have myself a nice little pity party. But with each step I'd became more and more guilty, realizing how badly I'd let down my fans. Some of them probably spent a lot of money just to come and meet me, and I couldn't even brave a day next to my ex-boyfriend for them? I was just so frustrated! Nothing I did ever seemed to be the right thing to do. It all just felt wrong. I sighed, deciding that going back was the right thing to do, regardless of how I felt about it. I turned on my heel and made it a single step before stopping again. There was a couple across the street. Not that that was surprising, I just recognized them from a popular youtube channel called Lush. The channel was dedicated to their relationship and they were always adorable together, no matter what it was they were doing. They didn't seem to be any different off camera, clumsily spoon-feeding each other some type of delicious-looking dessert. For some reason seeing them didn't fill me up with the usual warmth it did, instead I only felt angry. It didn't make sense to me, why they could have something so perfect and I was left with half of a heart. Did I do something wrong to deserve all of this trouble? I blink, realizing that Matthew had been waving at me. I nodded back, forcing a slight smile onto my face. I watched closely, noticing the way he leaned across the table and jostled his boyfriend eagerly. He was going to come over and see me. I frowned, realizing how little I wanted that to happen. I turned too quickly, nearly falling off of my feet, and charged into the liquor store from earlier to hide.
Once inside I looked out the window, relieved to see they were now walking down the road in the opposite direction. My relief faded all too quick though and I was left feeling sick to my stomach. When had it come to this? Dashing into strange buildings just to hide from social confrontation? It's not like I didn't want to meet them, I just didn't want them to meet me. I just knew I wouldn't meet their expectations and I'd end up a big disappointment. That's all I seemed to be to anyone now, including myself. I turned around and studied the store. Inside it wasn't nearly as rough as outside, it looked like your regular run-of-the-mill alcohol store. Well, except for the muscular man with a mohawk standing behind the counter. But I wasn't about to judge him, I doubted I looked any better right then.
My assumption was proven right when I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the glass freezer whilst grabbing a few bottles of whiskey. I didn't look any better than I had earlier after my panic-attack, if anything I was even worse now due to the wind messing up my quiff. I squeezed my eyes closed, blocking the image of myself from my mind. It was far too hideous to picture right now. Instead, I focused on reading the labels of nearly every bottle in the store. I wanted to try something new. Who knows, maybe I'll find an even better Troye replacement!
After grabbing an unnatural amount of alcohol for one person, possibly even a party of people, I made my way to the check-out counter.I flashed mohawk guy an awkward smile before letting my eyes fall to the floor. I counted the beeps of the scanner and frowned. I'd bought thirteen different types of alcohol, even worse considering two were twelve packs of beer. Troye's favourite beer to be exact. No way would I be drinking all of it tonight, but it wouldn't hurt to try. Well, actually, it might hurt but not until the morning after.
"Tyler Oakley?" I looked up hesitantly, my eyes locking with the emerald coloured ones of the cashier. I raised a brow, noticing the hostile edge on his face. I didn't even know the guy, what was up his ass?
"Yes?"
"Wow, never thought I'd have the displeasure of meeting the likes of you." I ignored his statement, bouncing from foot to foot and waiting for him to finish scanning my items. I just wanted to go home and forget this day ever happened.
"Did you do something different with your hair? You've never looked better." I notice the sarcastic tone he has and snort.
"What's your problem?"
"You."
"Why?" I pout, crossing my arms across my chest. He opened his mouth to reply but another voice filled the room.
"Hey Jared! Wait... Tyler?" I look over my shoulder, frowning when I see who it is. What's Steele doing here?
"What are you doing here?" I smirk a bit at the irony, considering I'd just mentally asked the same question to him. My smile quickly fades upon seeing he looks even more hostile than Jared the mohawk man. Great, maybe I can add getting my ass kicked to my list of things wrong with today.
"Buying alcohol?" I say snottily, faking brave despite how nervous I really was. He rolled his eyes, marching across the room and not hesitating to shove me into the counter on the way. I feel the breath get knocked out of me, but continue holding myself back from doing something I might regret. I'm not sure why I'd regret it, Steele most definitely deserved a black eye, even if that was all I could give him before he took me down. I open my eyes, just now realizing I'd squeezed them shut to keep from launching myself at him with fists flying. The first thing I see is a familiar box of beer. I smile, remembering the time I'd introduced Troye to the brand and he'd thanked me a thousand times over for it. Okay, so I did know why I'd regret it after all. It's one thing to try and stop caring for Troye, but it's something completely different to beat up his brother. Even if he deserves it.
"Fag." I breath through my nose loudly, surprised when furious smoke doesn't pour out. How could Steele use that as an insult when his own brother was a homosexual? He was so freaking disrespectful!
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I didn't even do anything wrong!" I shout, snatching my bags up so he'd have a reason not to punch me, and I a reason not to punch him. That was a lot of money's worth of alcohol and teaching some punk a lesson wasn't worth it.
"You didn't do anything right either, it's your fault Troye ran off."
"What? Troye ran off?"
"Yeah, after whatever went down between you two he just ran off and no one's heard from him since. I wasn't there to see it but from what I hear it's your fault. Listen to me when I say-"
"Fuck off, Steele. Everything is my fault in your eyes! You could probably pin global warming on me if you wanted to. Whatever's going on with Troye has absolutely nothing to do with me because, in case you haven't heard, he has no feelings for me at all."
"Why do you sound disappointed by that?"
"I'm not." I lie, clenching my jaw. My mind was going crazy, overwhelmed with both anger at Steele and concern for Troye. He ran off? Troye would never do something like that, he was too tentative, especially in places he wasn't familiar with. Where could he have gone? I frown, realizing he could just be off with Wyatt somewhere, having their own little private getaway from reality. That's probably all it was. Teens in love do stupid things. Whatever, I'd be having my own private getaway with me, myself, and liquor.
"Well, as much as it pains me to say this, I've got to get going. Talk to you soon?" I said, a bit of my sassy personality playing into my words. I noticed Steele roll his eyes just before I left the building. I concentrated on counting my steps as I headed back to my hotel room. It was painfully boring, but it was also better than the painfully painful it would be to let my mind drift back to the thoughts of Troye.
I made it all the way back to my building before my thoughts caught up with me. With each step my feet felt heavier, like they were fighting my sanity with everything they had. I balanced the bags on one knee and jabbed the key into the whole, eager to get into my own room and be completely alone. I set the bags down and flick on the lights casually, looking around the room slowly before nodding for no reason in particular. Home, sweet, home. I debated my next move for a split second before grabbing a bottle out of the paper bag and falling onto the couch. A minute later I was raising the bottle to my lips, eager to get rid of my sober thoughts. I took a hearty gulp but then the bottle slipped from my hands. I scrambled to catch it, but it was too late. It shattered on the floor and I felt like screaming. Wow, that was twenty dollars well spent. Not. I walk across the room to get the dust pan to clean up the mess, but stop halfway upon noticing how badly my hands were shaking. I stared at them in confusion for a moment before sighing. I knew exactly why they were shaking and apparently it was impossible for me to forget it. I dug my phone out and held it to my ear with shaky hands.
"Tyler! Everyone is so worried about you, where on Earth have you-"
"Do you know where Troye is?"
A/n: YOOOOOOO, I am so sorry about messing up my update schedule but my internet was down and auugh. Please forgive me! This is sort of a filler chapter but yeah, they're necessary sometimes. Vote/comment and I'll try to get the next chapter posted for tomorrow!