A/N: Okay this is going to be an obnoxiously long author’s note, so I apologize in advance.
First of all, this is going to my last update for a while (roughly five weeks I think). I work at a residential summer camp, which means that for the next month-ish I will have almost no free time, and what free time I do have will be spent completely exhausted and surrounded by other counselors, which doesn’t really lend itself to writing. I’m sorry you’ll have to wait so long, but I hope you stick around because I definitely think y’all will like what happens in the next chapter. :)
Second of all, I’m really nervous about this chapter. There’s a lot going on, it’s very much in Troye’s head, and I had a lot of trouble getting it to a point where I felt good about it. So please please please let me know what you think in a comment. I really want to hear how you guys reacted to this and the impression you have of Troye and Tyler’s relationship so far. It’s also kind of short, because like I said last chapter, these were originally going to be combined. The chapter title comes from the same poem that the title of this story comes from (Scheherezade by Richard Siken) and there aren’t any warnings I don’t think.
Finally, I think this will be the last chapter that I dedicate to someone because I only intended to dedicate the first few, but this chapter is dedicated to PersistentlyDreaming. Not only is she a really amazing writer (go check out her stories, you will not regret it), but she has showed me so much support with this fic and I have really appreciated it.
As always, thank you all so much for reading and please comment and vote and all that jazz! I’ll miss you guys <3
The day flew by in a whirl of interviews and panels and selfies with eager fans. Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to put the argument from that morning to the back of my mind. Of course, it was always there, clawing around, searching for purchase in my thoughts, but I found it fairly easy to follow Tyler’s lead and ignore it. The promise of sorting it out later was soothing as the day took on a hectic quality. It wasn’t until we were about to go on stage for our Q&A that it came back, slapping me in the face with its sudden urgency. The backstage area was dimly lit and swarming with busy looking people. I reached out and pulled Tyler’s sleeve, tugging him towards me.
“Tyler,” I hissed, “I still think we should announce it.” He was silent for a moment before responding, his face nearly blank, but when he spoke his tone instantly gave away what he was about to say.
“Troye-” I cut off him off before he could tell me how crazy I was again.
“No, listen,” I said, our faces only inches apart so we could speak quietly enough not to be heard, “I need this, Ty. I need to feel like we’re going somewhere and like what we are isn’t something to be ashamed of. I’m not asking if you want to do this, I’m asking if you’re willing to sacrifice our secret for me.” Tyler looked at me helplessly, biting his lip. I held my breath, some part of me still praying that he would give in. Then he started to shake his head slowly and something inside me seemed to rip, a silent scream trapped in my stomach.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” I wanted nothing more than to want to yell, to have to restrain myself from slapping the apologetic sorrow off of his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to anger. Instead I turned away from him, trying to hide the hot tears pricking my eyes. My throat was tight and my stomach was in knots and I knew it had nothing to do with wanting to announce our relationship and everything to do with wanting Tyler to care. I felt his hand on my shoulder and I walked away, wincing as it slid off. I couldn’t leave the backstage area, but I needed to put some space between Tyler and myself while I put myself back together.
Composing myself was as simple as the internal promise that as soon as this was over I would find a bathroom to break in. For now I had to go on stage, answer cutesy questions, kiss Tyler, and leave. I took a deep breath, trying to remind myself I wasn’t actually drowning, and turned back towards Tyler, my face blank. He looked like he was about to say something, but I just shook my head. One step at a time.
In moments we were being ushered on stage, mics pinned on, reminders about spike tape and timing muttered around us in thick Italian accents. The flutter of activity before performance that was so familiar was soothing in a way it wasn’t supposed to be. The crowd roared when they caught sight of us and I waved, smiled, laughed. In reality it was all just acting. Troye Sivan playing the role of the version of himself that everyone else wanted to see.
I registered surprise in Tyler’s eyes as we began riffing and teasing as always and knew I was doing my job. The chemistry was there, at least on the surface, and my mind was decidedly nowhere. We slid through the questions easily, one by one. I used the seemingly endless energy of the crowd to keep me going, and before I knew it it was time for the kiss.
No one knew it was coming but us, but we had been planning this moment for weeks. We led into it by talking about the campaign, thanking all the fans who had donated. It was my job to bring up the kiss. I remembered the Skype call when Tyler had informed me of this. “You got us in this mess, bitch,” he had giggled. I had tried to pout, but he made faces at me until I couldn’t help but smile.
Tyler looked over at me, waiting for me to speak. I took a deep breath, trying to continue with my act. “So there was this one moment in a livestream, where we said that if we reached half a million dollars-”
“We didn’t say,” Tyler interrupted, “Troye said.” I hated that he was right. I hated that I was suddenly wondering if I even had the right to ask him to reveal our secret. After all, this was all my fault in the first place. He hadn’t even wanted to kiss in front of all these people, much less tell them we were soulmates.
“Okay, fine. I said, that if we reached half a million dollars I would kiss him.” The roars from the crowd tore through me, and the makeshift walls I had built around what had happened backstage were gone. And this was real. This was very very real. “So, without further ado…”
There was a strange electricity crackling under my skin. All my fear and confusion from earlier colliding with adrenaline and nerves and a powerful, unexpected endearment as I watched warmth spread over Tyler’s cheeks. He was nervous, probably more nervous than me. “One… Two… Three!” It was the energy of thousands of screaming fans that propelled me towards him, that prevented me from freezing.
Something changed the seconds our lips met. I felt it immediately. This was supposed to be a quick, chaste kiss, just something to satiate the fans, but Tyler’s fingers flew to my jaw and his lips were softly urgent, working against mine. He was apologizing, practically begging for forgiveness, without a word. My lips moved in response, almost against my will. Forgiving him was a talent of mine. I felt naked when he pulled away. I was stripped bare of all pretence and strategy, just a skeleton deaf to the cheers washing over me. I think I smiled. I think I was about to say goodbye and run off stage. But Tyler stopped me.
“Troye and I have a bit of an announcement for you.” I swear my heart stopped beating. I certainly wasn’t breathing. I looked over at Tyler, my eyes wide, sure I had misunderstood. “I wasn’t sure about telling all of you, but Troye convinced me, so you have him to thank I guess.” He laughed and his eyes were warm and encouraging. I played along because I didn’t have the capacity to process what was happening.
“Yeah, you know Tyler, trying to ‘have a private life,’ or whatever.” I etched finger quotes around the words, a good approximation of goofy sarcasm dripping from my voice. Tyler’s laugh was somehow louder than the collective laughs of the entire audience. Or maybe I just heard it more clearly than anything else.
“So, some of you may have noticed that Troye and I have timers.” The wave of sound that rolled off of the crowd was staggering as they realized what was about to happen. Tyler was giggling as he tried to press on through the noise. “And that we keep them capped…” He turned towards me, our eyes locking. Under his awkward smile and apparent nerves there was something hard and almost forceful in his expression. “Well… I’m sure that many of you have theorized that we’re soulmates. I mean I’ve seen the gifsets.” He turned back to the crowd to roll his eyes sarcastically. I remembered the first time he sent me one of those gifsets during a Skype call, how he had tried to make fun of it, all while grinning like an idiot. “So, um, I guess we’re just here to say that, um, you’re right!”
Tyler’s voice squeaked on his last words and he physically stepped back at the overwhelming screams of our fans. He giggled nervously, running a hand over his face. His blush was back, brighter than ever. I reached for his hand, the familiar feeling of his fingers wrapping around mine like an anchor, pulling me into the reality he had created for us. My cheeks hurt from the smile I hadn’t even realized was there. I squeezed his hand and it seemed to bring him a new bout of confidence. He brought his mic back to his mouth.
“Um I’m gonna get really gross here for a second, but I just want to say that I would go to the ends of the earth for this boy. Like y’all think you know how amazing he is, but you literally don’t even know the half of it.” I tried desperately to swallow the lump rising in my throat, even as a smile tugged persistently at the corners of my mouth.
“Literally shut up,” I muttered into my microphone, not able to look at him. I wasn’t sure the audience heard me over themselves, but from the little squeeze of my fingers I knew Tyler had. I pressed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut for a second. I was not going to cry on stage.
“Okay, well that’s all y’all! Byeee!” Tyler’s cheery voice rang in my ears as he put his mic down, not letting go of my hand.
Somehow I managed to squeak out a quick “Bye guys!” before following him off stage.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the heat of the stage lights to the cool and dim blue lighting backstage, but I didn’t wait. The second we had put the stage behind us I dropped Tyler’s hand, blindly gathering him into a vice-like hug.
My breath felt unusually hot and moist as it gathered on his neck. There were tears running down my face, but the shaking in my shoulders felt more like laughter than sobs and there was a wild smile thrown recklessly over my mouth. My fingers dug into Tyler’s back and his dug into mine. He was so incredibly solid and he had some jagged edges, was full of imperfections, but he was mine. I realized I hadn’t said anything yet, so I whispered against his skin,
“Thank you.” And then, because it didn’t seem like enough, I pressed a kiss into his neck where my face was buried and repeated myself. “Thank you.” I kissed the hinge of his jaw. “Thank you.” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” I paused for a moment to take in his unusually bright eyes, and then, because I could and because it didn’t matter anymore and because I damn well wanted to, I kissed his lips.
It wasn’t a long kiss, but it felt like a revelation, sweetness mixed with the salt of my tears. When we broke apart Tyler was laughing. “Do you know any other words?” he asked, casually wiping tears from my cheeks even as he teased me. I shook my head, smiling.
“Nope.” I popped the p too loudly and Tyler giggled, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I’m so sorry, Troye, I don’t know what I was-” I cut him off,
“No, I’m sorry, I was being ridiculous…” Tyler shook his head, silencing me.
“It doesn’t matter. We were both being idiots. Just let me be sorry for both of us this time, okay?” I nodded, biting my lip as I tried to come up with a name for the weird mixture of feelings swirling in the pit of my abdomen. I decided, without any real authority, that this was probably happiness. I wondered where I had ever gotten the idea that such a complicated emotion could ever be one-dimensional.