one shots because I write a lot but don't polish or finish shit

Too much

This is based around stimulation overload, as something I frustratingly experience regularly. It's overly simplified and under detailed here however.

characters are from Dear Evan Hansen, the musical 

(cursing) 

(like a lot)

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It happened a lot. He wasn't sure exactly how many times, he wasn't always there. But he'd been there enough times to know what to do. Everyone has their limits after all.

The first time it happened was sort of chaotic.

Connor sat amongst the rest of their small group in the cafeteria. Jared, Evan, Alana, his sister, and the occasional one or two others. Alana was in the middle of helping Zoe with homework, all of them joking about something absurd that had happened during class. But the cafeteria was so loud and Alana was clicking her pen so frantically and Jared's chewing that gum and it's so irritating and Zoe just keeps tapping. And it was all too much, too much too much. He couldn't handle it.

"All of you just shut up!" Connor slammed his hands down on the table, then took off down the hall, being sure to grab his phone on the way out. Too much too much too much. It kept running through his head. He managed to find a quiet place off on the side of the school to wind down, skipping his next class.

Meanwhile, the group of awkward teens still in the cafeteria sat shocked while a third of the school stared at them. Alana was the first to speak, saying something along the lines of "what just happened," only much longer and more complicated and to herself. None of them saw him again until the second class after lunch, which happened to be the last of the day.

The second time it happened Evan wasn't exactly there, but he got the text at three in the morning. From zoe nonetheless.

It had been a long day, classes were either boring or testing, and the unit was ending so Connor had to study for the test. 2:15 is when he finishes with homework and notes, or decides he's done with them anywho. He's ready to fall asleep, he really is. It's the weekend and everything so he can sleep in. But the bathroom is next to his room, and someone is in the shower and they're playing music and it's awful. Zoe couldn't have picked a worse time to do the dishes because the water is going and the glass and the pots are clinking and sloshing and he can hear it from where he is. The cars keep passing his window and the lights are going by in flashes that just keep going. There's a plate on his desk that's starting to stink and yeah it's his fault but it just crosses the line. It's too much again.

Connor practically throws himself off the bed, not bothering to change or thinking to grab his sweatshirt. Instead he throws on his long gloves and his headset, heading for the door. He can hear Zoe start to say something but it's cut off by the song starting. He walks, not sure exactly where.

That's when Evan gets a text. It's short and unexpected, one he wouldn't have gotten if he weren't awake already. "Connor?" he knows what it means. It's not the first time he's gotten something like it at that hour. "Haven't heard anythng yet" he shoots back quickly, and ponders whether or not to correct his error. Zoe responds just as quickly, "chck in w/him pls."

Evan sighs and switches to text Connor instead. "Street? destination?" he figures short and simple is in their best interest. It's another minute or two before he gets a response, which he forwards to Zoe with an estimate of how long he'll be gone.

Connor is trying desperately not to yank his hair out while he wanders down in the general direction of the nearest park. Everything is still just too much, so when his song is briefly interrupted by a soft buzz in his pocket he's about ready to throw it across the road and curl into himself at the same time. He stops to collect himself on a nearby bench, not exactly at the park yet. It takes a minute of breathing before he can check the text and shakily type out a message. "Ramsey and Watt" and "Castle Park" is all he says, almost immediately getting a response. "Stay safe."

The third time it happens Connor's actually at Evan's house. Him and jared both agreed to stay the night, and they'd been in his bedroom for the past three hours. But that room is so small compared to three rowdy teens and Jared really sucked at that game and the game over screen was too bright and the sound effects were so irritating. Too quick it was too much too much too much. He excused himself to use the bathroom, though he headed for the living room instead. And yeah that helped solve the problems he had with the room and the game, but now he had new problems. Like the tick of the clock or the smell of the stray pasta that had fallen onto the stove earlier or the rain hitting the window and it was still just too much.

Connor hadn't realized just how long he had been sitting out there, with his face buried in his knees and a few stray tears. But Evan had. He noticed how uneasy he was when he left, and how he was shaking when he went to check one him. Evan carefully approached the shaking boy, holding out a headset attached to his phone.

"You can change it if you want but," he offered it to him, smiling gently. Connor took it without a second guess, Nickelback clouding out every other sound. And while he could still smell the awful burnt pasta and see the glare from the window to the tv screen he managed to drown it out. Evan came back with a fluffy blanket a little while later, him and Jared curling up with their own on the other side of the couch. He fell asleep not long after, but things weren't so overwhelming anymore.

Something similar to that went down a few too many times after that, but the boys were getting better at handling it and helping Connor out. He learned what helped and what made things worse; though a less than fun, and frankly quite tedious, experience. Usually he just needed to drown it all out and take a minute to cool down. Like when they were at the mall, he took off with his headphones and curled up on a bench at the far end of the building until he cooled down. Avoiding talking or touching other people at most costs, but it was nice to know he had someone nearby. He was gone for only a half hour, give or take a few minutes. But it wasn't always that easy. -- . . .