susurrus / dear evan hansen

lie number three

thank you bluerthanthesky for giving me the wonderful idea to write some jared angst c:

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jared couldn't move a muscle.

"ja...?" evan's trembling voice didn't reach him.

connor was gone.

no more stolen kisses, no more surprise gifts, no more palm pressed against palm.

why didn't he tell him? why didn't he leave him anything?

his hands gripped the steering will, teeth clenching.

"jared."

the last time he was connor he was ecstatic.

they were sitting on the roof together, cigarettes clasp in one hand, each other's in the other. connor was rambling like he did when we he was that happy, about a book he read. jared wish he had listened more. he remembered looking at connor, the moonlight threading his hair with silver, and smiling.

jared's step-mum used to say that looking at the moon for too long can drive you mad. turn you insane. maybe that's what happened to connor.

because why would he take his own life? they were so happy together.

he remembered looking at connor's lips as he talked, squeezing his hand tighter, then gazing back at the moon.

"jared–"

maybe he was done with keeping their relationship a secret. maybe he was done with the stolen glances across the room, with the rushed kisses in the hallway, with the static tension between them as the walked, hands aching for something to hold.

maybe jared killed him.

"jared!"

he shook his head, looking at evan, who was gazing at him with horror.

"are you okay?" he asked carefully.

"yeah. i'm– yeah."

"you weren't answering me. are you... upset about connor?" humour danced on his words.

"no." jared cleared his throat. "why would i be upset over that creep?"

"you look sad."

"nah." he scoffed. "good riddance, i say. nobody even liked him."

evan's gaze lingered on him for a moment more. "if you're sure."

"yeah. i hated that guy."