Remembered (A Troyler Short Story)

Part II

Troye POV

My, what luck seems to fall upon me today.

Let me fill you in on some of the things that have made my life make a 180:

I came to Playlist Live, as a small-time YouTuber with about 100,000k subs, and watched the LGBT panel. I'm in the closet from the Internet, but of course, if a certain American lilac haired boy on the stage happened to remember me, he'd know the truth.

( On an irrelevant note, the new hair color really suited him. It was hard to imagine him with flat blond hair and tiny, frameless glasses now. He looked both older and younger, in the way that he liked more grown into himself yet more youthful and bright. )

During the panel, I saw him take notice of me, and make eye contact quite a few times, but I was too shy to do anything other than stare back. I couldn't tell if he thought I looked familiar, but how could I? I had a growth spurt and looked much different than I did three years ago. I think he expected me to come to him after the panel was finished, since I practically eye-raped him on stage, but on a split second decision, I turned on my heel and walked dutifully away.

I wasn't sure why exactly I did that. I think it was both for no reasons and every reason at once. There were so many people that could've possibly recognized me and overheard whatever conversation we had. I might have embarrassed myself far more than bearable in from of my possibly favorite person in the world that I don't really know. But the most notable one was the fact that he might not have even remembered that day all those years ago. God, if I told him the story and he still had no idea who I was, he might've not only thought I was some desperately crazy fan, but also believed that possibly a stalker.

Then again, it's not often you get trapped in an elevator. And Tyler loves his fans. There was plenty of reason to go up to him. But nonetheless, I left, thinking that I would never interact with Tyler Oakley again, since today was the last day Tyler would really interact with his "People".

But then something happened.

I guess I could take the credit for this occurrence, since I was the one paying no attention to where I was going or who was in the elevator I was entering. I was scrolling through my Twitter feed, after all. But anyways, I got on the elevator, holding my hand out to stop it, but when I finally looked away from my phone, muttering a most likely incoherent apology, well, I still don't really know how well I hid my shock.

I re,ember every detail of the incident, but I'll skip it, since you little shits already know what went down between Tyler and I. But I will say that my foremost purpose not long before arriving at the hotel was avoiding Tyler, and what happens? I get stuck on a fucking elevator with him.

But the thing is, I'm extremely grateful for shitty elevators at this point in my life.

But Tyler remembered me, which was all that really mattered to me right now. And we exchanged numbers. And we're going to meet up, ah, right now, actually. I guess I better get going. But on a final note ( for now, of course, not final final ):

Tyler Oakley wants to be my friend. A fact I find morbidly ironic, since he's been there for me for years, without even realizing it.

I guess it's my turn to return the favor.

➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔ ➵♔

I realized as soon as I left my room that I never learned Tyler's room number, though I know it's on the same floor as my own. I texted the number under his contact name, committing it subconsciously to memory, and wrote: 'Hey, I forgot to ask, but what room are you in?'