Help~Sincerely Three (a Dear Evan Hansen fanfiction) COMPLETED

Chapter Ten-Criminal

We're walking back to Evan's house. After I asked Evan and Jared out, we just hugged for a really long time. It was nice. They're both more cuddly than I could have imagined.

"And then Matt said-" Jared is telling a story, and as much as I'd like to say that I'm listening, I'm not. I'm too wrapped up in my own thoughts. I just squeeze his hand tighter and sigh.

This whole thing leaves me wondering: do they actually love me? I've known them for a while, but everything feels so fast. I don't know. I'm just being paranoid. Evan is on the other side of Jared, probably lost in thought as well.

Of course they don't love me. Why would anybody love me? My hair is gross, my skin is too pale, my eyes are ugly. I don't know how people can even look at me, let alone love me. How come Zoe gets to be attractive? We have the same genes, so why can't I be more like her?

"Connor. Con. Connie. Connoroonie. Contradiction. Con-artist. C-" I look down at Jared, and his gaze shifts from playful to soft. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I mumble. He shakes his head, squeezing my hand tighter.

Finally, we're back at Evan's house. It's around five; I should probably go home. At the moment, though, that's the last thing I want to do. We sit on the front porch. Jared and Evan talk a bit, but I don't really listen. I'm too busy picking out everything wrong with me. I hate being insecure.

"Connor, really. What's up?" Jared asks, gently placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Nothing."

"Connor."

"Jared, I swear, nothing is wrong." Jared just shrugs. I sigh. "I should really go home, so..." Evan nods, and I quickly stand up, walking back to my jeep. They remain silent as I back out of the driveway and begin to drive in the opposite direction of my house.

You shouldn't be doing this.

Shut up.

No.

Turn around and go home. Now.

No.

Go. Home.

No. Why are you so pissy with me? I'm in control of my life. Not you.

I am you.

I know that!

Then why are you talking to me like a different person?

Because I can! Just, like, shut up already!

No.

Fuck off.

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalal-

Fuck off!

Unfortunately, getting into unnecessary arguments with myself is actually something that happens a lot. I'm a jerk, even to me. My grip tightens on the wheel, and I drive a bit faster. I know exactly where I'm going.

Old habits. Just old habits.

I blow my hair out of my face, trying to pay attention to the road, but it's hard. I'm just slow today, that's all.

After a good fifteen minutes, I reach my destination. It's getting dark out, so I should be fine.

I park in front of an abandoned, broken up child's playground.

Jesus fuck, Connor, go home!

No!

With a sigh, I hop out of my jeep, pulling my hood up and opening my trunk. It feels like a lifetime since I've done this. Quickly, I grab the big bag nestled in the corner of the trunk, closing the door and quickly walking over to the playground. There's a big wall, full of other people's (along with a couple of mine) designs. I take a couple of spray cans from the bag, before throwing it on the ground next to me. I shake up the blue one, painting my first streak across the wall.

There's something soothing about it. I don't know what it is, but I've been doing this for a while, and it's the same feeling every time. It's soothing and frightening at the same time.

I'm only half way finished with my painting when I hear footsteps behind me. My heart seems to have stopped. Shitshitshit. I freeze, not turning around.

"Turn around and put your hands up, you're under arrest for being caught in the act of vandalism and intrusion of privet property." Slowly, calmly, my heart beating out of my chest, I lift my arms in the air, spinning around to face the female cop. She cuffs my wrists behind my back, pulling me into the back of her cop car. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be held against you." I sigh, leaning my head against the window.

I'm brought into a small police station a couple of blocks down from where the park is. I'm shoved into the one cell they have. It's small, dirty, and filled with a bunch of guys with long hair, tattoos, and muscle shirts.

"What are you in for, kid?" One of the men asks me.

"Vandalism." The man nods. "You?"

"We drove an ATV into a Walgreens." I feel my eyes widen.

"On purpose?" I ask, louder than I probably should have. The man shrugs.

"I don't remember. We were drunk." Another one of the men grunt.

I told you so.

Shut up already!

I sigh, leaning against the wall.

I'm not a bad person.

I'll be out soon.