Everlasting Arms (Tronnor)

shot.

Troye

1 PM; not exactly the ideal time to start a new day. Or at least, it isn't in other people's books.
In mine on the other hand, it was perfectly acceptable.

I'm not the type of person to wake up early in the morning – instead I'm too busy sleeping through hangovers and other side effects of my oh-so exciting life. Usually I'd binge on Nutella and coffee afterwards, spend most of my day on the internet or in my bed (or on the internet while laying in bed), and then doze off later, without even turning my laptop off. Repeat, add a party, maybe a doobie or two, and you have a usual week in the glorious life of the one and only Troye Sivan.

Rereading this short excerpt of literary beauty, I do have to admit that it sounds not only a little depressing; but here's the deal: Being left alone and living a hermit life is my happy place, because, even if there's a ton of these ordinary days each month, there were also quite a few that were the extreme opposite.
Never would I describe myself as famous. Well known, probably, but it wasn't like I was surrounded and hunted down by paparazzi as soon as I left my apartment.
I did get recognised by fans (God, do I hate to call them that) sometimes though. Then again, I often felt too socially awkward to properly interact with them.
Well, I guess that's just something you have to deal with as an aspiring artist.

Today though, I was woken up by the shrill ringing of my doorbell. At this time of the day I knew it could only be one particular person who dared to bother me. And it most certainly was not the mailman.

I groaned and yelled "Comin'!" towards the door before rolling out of bed and throwing on some shirt I found on the floor. Then I dragged my feet down the hallway, briefly remembering that I was supposed to attend a meeting at in four hours, which was probably the reason for the unexpected visit, and opened the door.

Greeted by the immediate positivity that emitted from his presence, I couldn't help but let a small smile take over my previously rather pissed off looking features. But that was just the effect he had on basically every living thing on the face of this planet.
Connor Franta's infamous, amazing aura was definitely not a myth.

Being the co-owner of Hear Well Records, you'd might expect this man to have some kind of business-y vibe about him, which was not the case at all.
I had known him for about two years now, and had worked with him for almost as long. Not only was he a fantastic manager, but also my best friend (and crush too, but we'll get to that later).
He was wearing a blue, long-sleeved button-down, that was covered in white polka dots, black skinny jeans and dark dress shoes. As always, he looked downright gorgeous.
I had to force myself to stop checking out Connor's toned form, and look into his eyes, since it was frowned upon to get a softie, just from looking at one of your close friends.
And exactly that was my misery.

See: Connor and I had met at a party at our mutual friend Tyler's, where I'd had one too many shots and started dancing on tables and singing along to whatever song was playing. Connor had noticed that I wasn't feeling too well and in the end, he was the one to rub my back when I full on puked into Tyler's bathtub.
We kind of bonded over this memorable experience and when I had finally moved to Los Angeles, we started to do a lot together. He was the one who 'discovered' my talent and eventually offered me a contract with his record label.
I basically owed him my career and I couldn't have wished for a more supportive friend, but when you spend a lot of time with a person as physically attractive a him, it was nearly impossible not to develop other, definitely non-platonic feelings. Which fucking sucked, because he was straight.
Still, he made me want to sin. Badly.

"Good Morning!" He was as cheery as always and even though I was far from being a morning person he managed to make me feel a little lighter and kind of blushy. Still, I felt like something was off.
I normally didn't get this weird vibe from Connor, but I figured he would tell me if something was wrong with him.

So instead f mentioning it, I just yawned and smiled lightly at him. "What's so good about it?" I asked dramatically.

Connor scoffed. "Aw. Have I interrupted your beauty sleep?" He teased and I rolled my eyes, stepping aside to let him in.

I closed the door behind him and said: "You know I'm pretty damn cute as I am."
"The cutest." He looked at me and winked before speed-walking down the hallway with me trailing a few meters behind. Honestly, he had the tendency to forget that not the entirety of his life was an athletic competition.
We got to my kitchen and I hopped onto the counter when Connor started to prepare coffee. We were in comfortable silence, both of us lost in our own trains of thought. I grabbed my box of cereal and ate straight out of it while watching him intently.
The way his eyebrows furrowed when he measured the water, as if it was the most important task of his life. The way his muscles flexed under the silk of his shirt whenever he moved. God damn it. His mere presence was enough to keep me entertained for at least twelve hours.

Soon, the coffee was done brewing, so he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and poured the almost boiling hot liquid into them. He put a bit of coffee creamer and sugar in my cup while he left his own completely untouched.

"So, meeting today huh?" He rather stated than asked.

I put the cereal on its original spot and shrugged.
"Um yeah." I said. "Even though I have no idea what you guys want to talk to me about."

He seemed surprised and frowned. "I didn't tell you?"
That was really unlike Connor. He was generally one of the very few people I could actually rely on because he always knew what was going on.
Thinking about it, he had been kind of out of it for a while now, I just didn't worry about it. We all had these kinds of days, right?

Shaking my head, I reached for my cup. "Nope. You just said it'd be important." I took a sip and sighed quietly. This coffee was deliciously tasty, leaving a bitter aftertaste on the top of my tongue.

"Oh." He rubbed the side of his head, pensive. Quickly, he snapped out of it though and smiled at me. "Well, I guess then I have some enlightening news for you, Troye boy."

Raising an eyebrow, I tilted my head while dangling my legs excitedly. "Shoot."

"Okay, so." He took the mug out of my hand and put it down on the counter. "You know how the sales for your last EP have sky-rocketed?"

I nodded, a little smug smile pulling on the corner of my lips. "Impressing, right?"
The music was one of the only things in life that I was really proud of. I had put all of my time and energy into TRXYE, my EP – and seeing it sell properly was empowering.

"Yeah. You aren't the only one who thinks that." Connor said. "A couple of people have talked to me about this but I told them I can't decide without your permission because" He took a deep breath. "they were begging for a Troye Sivan album, which is why we go there today and read the contract, maybe sign it. Or not. It's your decision."

I blinked twice, my mouth agape. Did I just hear right? An album? A full-on album? This couldn't be real life.
My tongue felt dry and I knew there were tears welling up in my eyes.
Practically jumping at him, I hugged Connor tightly. "Thank you. Oh God, Connor. Thank you so much!"

He pulled away and placed his hands on my waist, the small action already making me all flustered.
"You're welcome." He grinned. "Now, would you mind taking a shower while I make us some breakfast? Not trying to be rude, but you don't really look like you're ready to attend a meeting right now."
Offended, I hit his chest lightly but he just laughed it off and moved out of the way.
When I was finally in my bathroom, I rid myself of all the clothing on my body and stood under the spray of the shower. Like many people I'd usually let my thoughts wander while showering, but right now, there was only one topic on my mind as little droplets of the warm wetness explored every little curve of my body.

An album. That was a humongous step forward. I was kind of nervous though. This would be a massive project to deal with and I had high standards to work with, and I knew it wouldn't be easy to satisfy my audience. Connor knew that, too.
It must be stressful to have a job like his. He was practically dependent on my success.
Maybe that was the reason he was so uneasy at the moment.

Well, later that day, I would find out that Connor's weird behaviour had absolutely nothing to do with his job.