Mr. and Mr. Oakley-Sivan

5--Buy Me Diamonds and a Beretta

A/N: Hello! I am so sorry you had to wait so long for an update, guys! It took me a long time to really finalize the story plan and make it exactly what I wanted, and I apologize for that. Now that I have the plans solidified (even the ending) the chapters won't take nearly as long unless something comes up.

I'm pretty proud of the ending, tbh. Imagine it like it's a really beautiful island in the distance that you can just barely see over the horizon. You pretend you can smell the flowers on its shores and hear the waves breaking on the pristine white beaches. You pretend you can see the trees sway in its lush jungles and wish you could fly like the seagulls that circle it every day. And, with that scent in your nose and the tales of sailors in your ears, you wait faithfully for the town architect, me, to figure out a way to build a bridge there.

I've only just finished blueprints.

-

0800: The Westin Harbour Castle, Room No. 307

Toronto was beautiful. If you weren't careful, you could confuse the narrow streets and crisp weather with any other northern city. But if you were careful, you'd notice little cafés and knick-knack stores all over the place, on street corners and above popular restaurants. You'd see boutiques with handwoven clothes and little theaters playing works written in their basements.

And, if you were Troye Sivan, you'd see a million people, all completely different and all so interesting that he was actually having trouble paying attention to his friends. Ever since he was little, Troye loved to watch people. He liked to watch them as they chattered into their phones, smiling and crying and laughing and touching up their makeup and going out with their friends. His favorite thing to do was to imagine their entire life up to this point; why they dyed their hair blue and why they had a tattoo of a spring onion on their ankle (he still hadn't figured that one out).

This morning was slightly different. Today, he couldn't go to meetups and sight-see and watch Toronto in all its fantastic, human glory. Today, he had to watch George Olkin file papers and call his secretary until he could finally escape and have lunch with Tyler this afternoon.

At least the hotel had free wifi; skulking outside an office wouldn't be so bad if he could reblog cat gifs until his shift was up and Win could take over.

He dug through his suitcase, searching for the perfect jumper to laze about in. A maroon one caught his eye, and he smirked, remembering his reason for buying it.

No one can see bloodstains on red, can they, Troye?

Because he assumed giggling at his own jokes was yet another sign that he was completely insane, he did his best to restrain himself until he had his black skinnies on and his quiff restored to its usual floof.

1130: Westin Harbour Castle, The Pearl Office

Troye's phone had died. His phone had died, and with it any hope of entertainment had died. And he was pretty sure a rather large part of his heart had kicked the bucket too.

Sneaking around the hallway and avoiding the secretary was pretty much his only option now. Shoving his fallen comrade into his back pocket, he stood and stretched. He was grateful to be out of the uncomfortable waiting chairs just outside George Olkin's office.

He hadn't expected any intruders lurking in the grey hallways. If the triad was going to bomb the location of the last event on the tour, why would they risk alerting the authorities by making a move three months before the planned date? If there was going to be any interference, he could prepare for it at least three cities down.