If I Could Tell Him (Tree Bros)

Time to Go

A/N: hey bois thanks for 100 reads! also, sorry for posting about 8 mins late, *TRIGGER WARNING* homophobic slurs

Evan walked into the computer lab, looking for his letter. Hmm. It didn't seem to be in here. He strolled around the desks after checking the printer. Did it fall? It doesn't seem to be in here. Evan shrugged to himself. Maybe it didn't print. It probably didn't connect. He sighed. I was pretty sure it was this printer I connected to. What if I connected it to a different printer? The office one? Oh no, the teachers were going to find my letter. That would be an awful way to spend my morning. What if I just connected to a random person's letter? What if they say the "Dear Evan Hansen," found out it was me, looked me up and found my social media? I need to delete it just in case. Before he could let his anxiety spiral out of control, he checked his laptop's printing history. As he had thought, he had connected to this printer, and it worked. Before he could be relieved, the realization hit him. It had printed, and it's not here. That means someone took it. He spiraled into a pit of "What if"s and assumptions, panic settling in. His heart rate increased, his cheeks flushed, his head pounded. It felt like he was going to cry, stop breathing, throw up, and freeze, all at once. He rushed out of the computer lab in a blind daze, not noticing a certain long-haired boy holding the paper.

Connor looked down at the letter in his hands. "Dear Evan Hansen," it began with. He must have a pen pal or something. Connor poked his head out of the lab, searching for Evan. He was just trying to be nice to someone, he told himself, not an opportunity to befriend him. As he walked down the hall, he mindlessly read through the letter.

"Dear Evan Hansen,

Today is going to be a good day, and here's why: "

"You'll never be anything."

"You're just a freak."

"Jared still makes fun of you..."

"Your crush on Zoe Murphy..."

Connor gripped the paper. Of course. This was just some ploy to piss him off, so Evan can laugh about how this "psychopath" blew up at him. I mean, he was friends with Jared Kleinman. He wrote some creepy shit about his sister, so that Connor would overreact and prove how mental he was. Connor had even liked that boy. But he was just another one of the people who laughed at him. How could he be that stupid? Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. Evan Hansen hated him. He was nothing more than a monster that deserved to be killed. He was foolish for even thinking for a second that he and Evan were alike in any way. No one was like him. He was alone, he was broken, and no one cared enough to fix him.

He couldn't bring himself to face Evan. He couldn't confront those soft, warm blue eyes, his freckled, sun-kissed skin, his dirty blonde hair that Connor had never touched, but seemed so soft, he couldn't confront the beauty that was Evan. Even after being bullied by him, he still couldn't hate him. There was something about Evan that Connor could truly connect to, something that was similar about them.

He walked up to his locker, noticing the little "fag" etched into his locker. He remembered finding that. It was the day after he had worn a small pride pin on his satchel. It was a small way of him coming out. He didn't think anyone would notice, but of course, they did.

The word "faggot" rang through his head, bringing back a particularly painful memory.

"I didn't raise my son to be a faggot!"

"Larry, please. This is very hard on Con-"

"Hard on him? What about me? What are the neighbors going to think? What are my clients going to think?"

That day was the day his parents began to fight even more, even on a regular basis. And it wa all Connor's fault. He just had to be gay, He couldn't have just waited until he had moved out. He had to make a huge scene. Connor knew he couldn't blame himself, as he mom had reassured him, but he did. He took all the blame. He shamed himself, starved himself as punishment, did a bunch of drugs to numb the pain. But he couldn't stop it. He took it out on Zoe. He looked down at his hands, recalling how the curled up in fists, banging on her door.

"I'm going to fucking kill you! Let me in, bitch!"

He recalled her cries, muffled through the door calling for their parents' help, he recalled the desperation in her voice, the fear, the pure terror in which he instilled in her. He had done that. He was the monster. He had done all of this. Zoe had every right to hate him. He was an awful person, a disgusting human being, a worthless piece of trash that deserved nothing more than death.

Stumbling off campus with tears in his eyes, Connor headed to the orchard, painkillers from his locker in hand.

It was time to go.