A Piece of Me (Tracob)

Break myself (to give back to you)

It's been three days, three days since Dr. Lawson gave us a reality check, and it hit me hard that day and took me out, but I got up again, and since then I've been surprisingly...okay.

I mean, I'm still worried and anxious, obviously, but I've decided that, no matter what, I'm not going to give up hope now.

Which makes me worry that it'll hurt later if things don't end the way I desperately need them too, but again... I'm not worrying about that now.

It's 7:30 am, I've just gotten out of bed and shuffled downstairs to make coffee. Troye's bedroom door is shut, and Nash is snuffling around in the living room somewhere, I can hear his collar jingling.

"Hey there," Troye's head pops up from where he's laying on the couch and I take a step backwards.

"Jesus," I mumble. "I wasn't expecting you to be up this early."

Troye sits up all the way and shrugs. "I woke up and wasn't tired, so I came out here with Nash. How are you?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Fine."

"Really fine, or fake fine?"

For the last couple of days, Troye's been a little... overprotective, almost, of me. Like he's trying to shield my feelings from any damage, which, secretly, I love being just the tiniest bit babied by him. I know it's not his fault, but the truth is that for so long I've been doing everything and getting nothing, so just for once, to feel like kind of, maybe I'm the one being taken care of...it's nice. Different.

I sigh, combing my fingers through my messy morning hair. "Really fine."

"Good, me too. I'm fine. Great, actually. I was thinking, and I reckon I'm pretty much cured."

"Cured?" I repeat slowly.

"Well, not cured cured but...better, you know? Pretty much back to normal. I mean, I've still got this cast on my leg and, and the memory thing, well there are still some - a lot - of issues to work on with that-"

"Just so we're clear, you didn't magically remember everything overnight, did you? Or am I just dreaming right now?"

Troye's smile slips a little. "No, no, I- I didn't magically remember, and you're not dreaming, I didn't remember everything. But, uh, some things!" His smile goes back up, along with my heart rate. "I remember some things, sometimes. I was listening to the album, Blue Neighbourhood," Troye gets up and trots after me, talking while I walk into the kitchen because I need coffee before I can process things in the morning.

"I was listening, and I remember touring those songs, like the audience and stuff, it was so loud and way bigger than I thought, and I was really nervous at like, every show, I was scared to go on, but then I did and I would have so much fun, and I remember once I saw you up in the balcony, I knew you were up there, and everything felt so good and right in that moment, I looked up and blew you a kiss. Cause I was happy," he adds in a soft little voice. "I was really happy."

My fist is frozen, clenched around the French press. I remember that night. It was one of his first shows I went to. God I was so whipped for him. That was the night that the reality of it all, his life, his fame, it hit me all at once and it felt like a fever dream, watching him perform to a crowd hanging onto his every word.

"You remember all of that?"

"Well, I'm thinking of it now, so I think yeah, I remembered that."

"God," i set down the pot carefully. "Somewhere deep in your hermit brain, you knew I needed something good this week and hermit brain provided."

The corners of Troye's mouth go up. "I guess so, huh?"