Tyler POV
I got nervous. And let me tell you that mama. Never. Gets. Nervous.
My fingers hovered over the send button, wondering if I should really do this.I could always say no...
I didn't know what to do. Usually I would do whatever was good in that moment... But this was so much more important.
Then my fingers slipped.
And it was out on the net forever.
I desperately tried to cancel it or delete it but he had seen it already. I waited for a reply. None came.
Not until the next day.
I was woken up with a ping. I looked up to meet the glare of my laptop. It made me think of Troye. 'A light of a thousand suns,' he would have said. A sad tear came out.
My eyes were still adjusting, but I'm pretty sure it was something along the lines of 'did you know it was me.'
I tried to make out the time. It was 3 fucking 04 in the morning. There was another ping that indicated another message.
Troye: Answer me, dammit. I know you're good at ignoring people but this is fucking pathetic. I'm trying to sort this out and maybe even give you a chance.
I started typing after that. My reply was going to be sorry, but after a few spelling mistakes and then autocorrect to top it off, I ended up with 'sexy.' Too late, he had already seen it by the time that I had realised. And that was all I needed to fully wake me up.
I nervously drummed my fingers lightly on the table, waiting for a reply.
Troye: FUCK YOU, TYLER OAKLEY. IF YOU COULD JUST STOP BEING ALL FLIRTY AND SHIT BECAUSE I'M ACTUALLY TRYING TO TALK TO YOU.
I DON'T GET YOU.
DID YOU HAVE TO BREAK ME LIKE THAT?
I. HATE. YOU.
YOU'RE THE ONE THAT CALLED ME A FAG, YET YOU'RE NO BETTER.
WE WERE FRIENDS. AT LEAST I THOUGHT WE WERE...
DID YOU EVER CONSIDER ME AS YOUR FRIEND?
DID I EVER EVEN MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?
AND WHY?
WHY, TYLER. WHY?
