"Troye, where are you going I made breakfast!" Caspar exclaims from beside the stove.
Tyler looks up from the newspaper and frowns as Troye slips his shoes on. He knows Caspar made breakfast, he could smell the bacon all the way in his room. It was painful how loud his stomach cried for it. He had to bury his nose in his pillow just to get away from the scent, had to chug the glass of water beside his bed to try and trick his stomach.
"Sorry Cas, I want to get some time in the studio before first period. I'm going to grab an egg sandwich when I get my tea," Troye lies.
"Might as well just set up a bed in the studio, we never see you these days," Tyler sighs.
Troye feels a twinge of guilt, "I know, I'm sorry. It's just the show is coming up and-"
"We know, we know. It's okay Tro just promise you'll be home for dinner?" Caspar says pleadingly.
Troye forces a smile and nods, "for sure, I promise," he says.
"Okay, drive safe," Tyler grins.
Troye waves over his shoulder and leaves the apartment, his smile drops as soon as he's in the hall. Being home for dinner means eating a meal. He'll have to restrict intake for the day now, because even though he'll purge everything he eats he has to account for the calories that will be absorbed before he can casually make his way to the bathroom after dinner. That means no milk in his tea and he definitely can't have the two sections of the mandarin orange in his messenger bag that he was going to allow himself.
He really wishes his complex had an elevator, because even though he's only going down the stairs his knees are already aching a bit. Sometimes he has to sit and take a break half way through on the way up. When he finally gets down to his car he cranks the heat and fiddles with the radio until he finds a decent station. He doesn't really have anything to do at the studio but he needed an excuse not to sit and eat breakfast with them.
When he arrives there are a few students milling around the hallways but he doesn't run into anyone he knows as he grabs a tea and heads to the studio. He goes straight to the three mannequins by the window, fingering the light fabric of the t-shirt under the blazer and adjusting the neck of the sweater. For the millionth time since he first laid eyes on Jacob in the hall Troye' mind flits to the image of the boy in the tweed pants that he's spent so many hours on.
Then Troye has a moment of uncertainty, because maybe Jacob will have changed his mind. Maybe he's just one of those people who can't say no face to face and when Troye texts him this morning he'll make up some excuse and get out of it. Troye stomach churns unpleasantly as he hurries to his messenger bag to find his phone. He thinks for a moment before he composes the text.
'Hey Jacob, it's Troye Sivan. Hope you're still willing to help me for the fashion show, just wondering when you'd be able to meet up?'
He sends it out and sets down his phone because it isn't even eight in the morning and he doesn't expect a reply until later. He's only just turned away to go get his sketchpad when his phone dings in response.
'If you still want me I'm still willing. I'm on my way to school now actually, or I've got free period second, or over lunch, or after school, whatever works for you.'
Troye smiles a little at the text, the boy certainly is accommodating and the hint of self depreciation is cute. He's relieved. It would have been so easy for Jacob to say 'oh sorry I'm actually not going to be able to do it.' He doesn't owe Troye anything, doesn't even know Troye. But here he is, offering up every spare moment he has.
'You're up mighty early, I'm not interrupting your study time? And I'm already at school if you want to pop into the studio now, but if not I have a free period second as well.'
