Taking Hits

Part 14: What Are You Talking About?

Over a month went by. Connor had heard nothing from Troye. The few texts he had sent remained unanswered. His calls were never picked up. As if the boy had just blinked out of existence - or at least out of Connor's existence.

Connor felt numb. He went about his days routinely, not allowing himself time to think, time to feel, time to regret. He knew he was close to lapsing back into a state of depression - he could feel it creeping up on him more and more each day. But he couldn't let that happen. He owed it to himself and to everyone else in his life. Plus, if Troye ever needed him again, he had to be strong.

And that was enough to keep him going for now. He'd make a point of exhausting himself and staying up so late that he'd just collapse on his bed at night and almost immediately achieve unconsciousness. Then he didn't have to think about anything. He didn't have to lay there while his thoughts tormented him with what was, what might have been, what could be. It worked most nights, and he was usually able to sleep until the late morning.

But on others, he would wake up yelling, crying, shaking. He'd have to squeeze the life out of a pillow to try to calm himself.

Sometimes, he remembered the nightmares. Other times, he was blessed not to. His mind conjured all kinds of grave images and unbearable scenarios that he couldn't drown out. And when he did remember, there was no way to block them, there was no way to escape their haunting presence and return to sleep. So he'd either stay up all night and distract himself with TV shows, come close to overdosing on sleeping pills, or take a couple rapid-fire shots of alcohol to try to block them out.

In short, Connor wasn't healing with time. Even though he harassed Troye's sister almost hourly about the boy and got updates daily, he still worried constantly. He still felt guilty for somehow hurting him, for not being there to fix it, for ruining everything between them.

He didn't know what to do, or even if he could do anything. He didn't know if he even wanted to go on without Troye. He'd never realized how big of a part Troye had played in his life, even when they were just friends. How would anyone ever come close to filling that spot? They wouldn't, Connor knew. No one could ever replace Troye, not completely.

Connor's life felt meaningless - more than it had in a long time. He felt it wasn't worth it. Even with everyone who knew his name, everyone who admired and loved him, everyone who was still there in his life, it still didn't make up for the fact that half of him - half of what he was living for - seemed to be gone now, disappeared for God knows how long - maybe for forever.

At least that was the mindset he had when the annual VidCon festival came around. It was being held in Anaheim again this year, and Connor had been obsessively checking the list of "featured creators" every day leading up to it.

'Troye Sivan' never appeared on the list. It was a long shot, Connor knew. There was probably no way Troye was ready to just show up at something as big as this. And Connor didn't know what he would even do if Troye was coming. He figured at least it'd be a chance for something though - to say hi, just to see him, to confirm that he was ok.

But Connor didn't get his hopes up. He didn't know when the next time he'd see Troye was, or even if he'd see him again. God, that thought hurt. It felt like a gaping, raw hole in his chest that was slowly being carved larger and larger. He dismissed the idea, closed the VidCon website on his laptop, and finished packing.

The VidCon venue wasn't all that far from Connor's house, but he let them set him up in a hotel nearby anyways to make it more convenient. Connor drove there the night before it started and made himself comfortable.