Painted On

45 Minutes

Troye

"Did you hear?"

Troye kept his head bowed, the hood of his sweater (well, Connor's sweater, Troye couldn't help wearing it), hiding his face from the girls sitting on the bench next to him. He was outside Connor's building, trying to get up the courage to go inside. There was the spare key to Connor's dorm in his pocket, weighing his mind down.

"Hear what?" The second girl asked. They were making no attempt to be quiet. But it didn't matter. Most of the campus had already heard at least some kind of rumor about Troye and Connor.

"You know Troye Sivan, the kid with all those tattoos and stuff?"

There it was. Troye rubbed his temple, trying to fight back a headache.

"Yeah?"

"He was seen chasing Connor Franta across the campus last night. According to Lilly, you know Lilly, Connor was crying and Troye was shouting 'come back' and stuff like that." The first girl sounded proud to be sharing such juicy gossip.

"No way," the second girl said, surprise evident in her voice. Troye could imagine that there was a smile on her face as she processed the information. He really, really hated gossip.

"And you know what else I heard?"

"What!"

"According to Ricky, Connor's roommate, Connor basically hadn't talked to him or stopped crying when he left," the first girl said.

Troye closed his eyes. This was his fault. He hated himself for it.

"Apparently Troye was knocking on their door like all last night and begging Connor to talk to him. Ricky had to make him go away. I heard that Ricky was considering staying here rather than going home this weekend to take care of Connor, but he didn't."

"What do you think happened between them?"

"Beats me," the first girl answered. "I wonder what Troye did to Connor to hurt him that badly."

"That kid is trouble," the second girl said. "I feel bad for Connor."

Troye couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, his mind set on only one thing.

Connor.

He made his way inside the dorm building and up the stairs. It was probably a good thing that no one could see his face, as he was sporting a spectacularly colorful bruise on the left side of his face. His encounter with Ricky flashed through his mind as he arrived in front of Connor's door.

//

He was knocking on Connor's door and begging for him to talk to him with no reply, until suddenly the door flew open.

But of course, it wasn't Connor on the other side like Troye hoped. It was his roommate, Ricky. Ricky was glaring at Troye as he stepped outside quietly and closed the door behind him.

"I just want to talk to Connor," Troye pleaded, "please, just let me insi-"

But before he could finish his statement, he was falling backwards, pain exploding from just below his left eye. Ricky had punched him, hard, and Troye hadn't had any time to get out of the way.

"That was for Connor," Ricky said angrily, looking down at Troye. "I don't know what you did to him, but I swear to God, Troye Sivan, you've caused too much pain already. You should crawl back into whatever circle of hell you came from and stay there and stop causing so much pain for others."

"Y-you don't understand," Troye stuttered, putting a hand over his cheek to try to lessen the pain. He slowly used the wall for support to stand up, swaying slightly as he got lightheaded. "There was some sort of misunderstanding... I didn't... I don't know what... I didn't do anything to him." Immediately he knew that that was the wrong phrasing. He'd obviously done something, he just had no idea what. He was horrible at this kind of stuff, he never had any idea what to say.

"Obviously Connor doesn't think so," Ricky said, crossing his arms. "You know, you're never going to fucking change, Troye. You just go through life thinking that you can break whoever's heart you want. It's disgusting. And why did you have to chose Connor? The poor kid is still so confused about himself and about love, don't you have the decency not to hurt him? Obviously not."

"You don't understand," Troye said again. "I didn't want to hurt him."

"But you did," Ricky said. He sighed. "Now I'd suggest you just go before I punch you again."

"But-"

"I said suggest, but it really wasn't a suggestion. Go," Ricky demanded, "or I'll make you." He left no room for argument, stepping back into his room and shutting the door loudly in Troye's face.

//

Ricky was gone for the weekend. The spare key in his pocket meant that Troye could easily get into Connor's dorm. Technically, it should be easy for him--just unlock the door and step inside.

But he was frozen in the doorway, scared of what was about to happen. Slowly, he forced himself to take the key from his pocket and open the door, trying to calm the fear coursing through his veins.

"Connor," he said softly as he opened the door. "Please, just talk to me. I didn't mean to hurt you or make you cry. I'm sorry." He stepped inside, turning to face Connor's bed.

But he was talking to thin air. There was no one in the room.

"Con?" Troye asked, looking around for Connor. The bathroom door was wide open. The room was truly empty. "Connor?" Troye asked with more urgency. He began searching for some sign of what had happened.

His stomach dropped when he saw what was definitely a note from Connor sitting on Ricky's bed.

Please don't let that be... Troye thought, hurriedly snatching up the letter. He was panicked now, his nervousness forgotten.

Ricky,

First things first, I'm okay. Don't worry.

I'm not going to explain what happened, I don't want to involve you in this. This is just a short letter in case you happen to come back early for some reason, because I don't want to worry you.

Anyway, I've decided that I need a short break. Since it's a three-day weekend and all, I figured why not take a little trip.

On the off chance that you see this letter before I get back, like maybe today, text me. I won't be able to reply from 9 to 12 as that's when my flight is, but other than that I'll be sure to let you know I'm okay.

I'm just flying back home; I'm not going to some crazy place, don't worry. I just want to escape, well, really to escape Troye, and to escape myself right now.

You were wonderful last night, thank you. I really appreciate everything you've done for me.

I'll see you Tuesday.

Connor

Troye gripped the letter tightly. Connor was okay. But Connor was also leaving for the weekend, to get away. From him.

He couldn't just let Connor leave.

If he didn't try to set this straight before Connor left, he didn't know when he'd get another opportunity. He didn't want to let this sit for too long, he wanted to make sure he could fix things with Connor. He was still hoping that maybe they could be at least friends again.

His eyes fell on the alarm clock sitting on Connor's desk. The numbers on the clock were glowing red, glaringly so in the dark room. The moment Troye saw the time, he took off running towards the parking lot, where his car was waiting. He had to get to the airport as soon as possible.

It was 8:15 in the morning and Troye Sivan had 45 minutes to fix whatever fuckups he had made the night before.

The question was whether or not he could.