*this is part 2 to Love You Goodbye*
*warning: violence (murder basically)*
**chuckles* get ready for da feels*
*also this is dedicated to Lovintronnor because she's like the sweetest thing ever*
Troye hated himself. He knew he fucked up big time when he left Connor alone a year ago after he told him he loved him.
He was scared though. Scared that maybe Connor didn't love him anymore because he wanted to leave. Or scared that he would be taken away from Connor by his occupation: singing.
Troye was doing shows everywhere now. Europe to Australia to USA to Canada—Troye was traveling all around the world. He didn't want to leave Connor hanging.
But he did, and he hates himself more and more everyday for it. He keeps thinking about it—that day—and he keeps reminding himself how stupid he was for leaving just because he was frightened into making a wrong choice.
Troye realized what he did a month too late. Just a month after leaving Connor alone Troye tried to call him—tried to tell him he was sorry—but he got no answer.
He's called him three times a day for the past year yet never gets an answer. He always hears a beep and then Connor's oh so beautiful voice telling him to leave a message. Which he always does. He leaves him a message three times everyday pleading for him to answer a call, begging him to talk to him.
But he gets nothing. All he wants is words from him but he gets absolutely nothing. He gets a recorded message that anyone that calls him can hear. He gets a fucking broken heart and guilty soul.
Yet for some reason he never gives up. He's kept up the same routine for a year—call Connor before breakfast, during lunch, and after dinner—and he intends to do it the rest of his life if that's what it takes for Connor to answer him.
Troye repeats that day in his head over and over and over and over. Sometimes he thinks someone recorded that day, put it on a video, and slotted it into Troye's head, then pushed repeat just to spite him.
He analyzes everything that happened that day. Everything. The events before, the events after, Connor. He thinks about how he wanted nothing to do with Connor before he went to his house, how he was ranting to his manager—Emma—that he had to go see his ex. Then he thinks about how when he got there Connor's beauty was undeniable even when it was sweatpants snug on his waist and red eyes and messy bed hair and—fuck, he was so whipped for that boy.
And he thinks about the way Connor's lips felt against his when they kissed and the way Connor's body felt pressed right up to his. How Connor would crush Troye's hands in his when he was overwhelmed from pleasure and how his face scrunched up when he came—his lips parted, his back arched, and he let out a loud groan—and he looked so pretty.
Then he thinks about when he left. The note he lay on the table with the glass of water next to it, just in case Connor was too tired to get up and get a drink himself. He thinks about the fear that was installed in his brain for no damn reason and how it's the cause of him not being with Connor right now.
He thinks about after. After the part where he left, after the terrible chapter where he thought it was okay to leave his loved one. But after was just as bad as before. After, Troye had a breakdown. He cried and cried and cried because he wasn't laying in bed right now with his Connor.
Troye remembers the day so clearly he almost wishes he didn't. It's just reminds him how terrible he is, how terrible he felt, and how terrible he was to Connor.
![Byler Oneshots [Completed] by jolu1100](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/312783817-80-k545412.jpg)
The guilt was taking him over. It ate at his stomach and made him feel weak—weaker than he's ever been, weaker than he's ever seen someone be—and he didn't like it.
Most days now he didn't even sleep. He stayed wide awake with no intention of going to bed because of the fear of the damn nightmares that always came. They usually consisted of Connor. Connor being murdered, Connor dying, Connor not loving him anymore.
Troye shivered, not realizing that he had caught the attention of everyone in the room. Emma looked at him with curiosity in her eyes, silently asking if he was okay. He wasn't. He sent her a small smile anyways, telling her not to worry.
As for everyone else in the meeting for his new album—they went straight back to what they were doing, starting to talk about sales and publicity and marketing. But Troye didn't care. All he cares about nowadays was Connor. All that was on his mind was Connor.
As soon as they released everyone from the meeting he bolted, running to his car and hopping in, planning to go straight back to his hotel and rest. Sadly, though, he was stopped by Emma.
"Troye you're not okay. The others might not notice it but I do. What's wrong?" She asked. She was genuinely worried about Troye. He hasn't been himself for a year. He was sad, possibly depressed even.
Troye drops his head so that it's on the steering wheel. "It's Connor."
When hearing that Emma saddened. He really wasn't okay.
"I'm sorry Troye." And she was. She was sorry that Troye had to go through this, sorry that he had to experience such a heartbreak.
"My fault," he mumbles. "I gotta go."
Troye makes it back to his hotel room safely, running into very little fans and managing to take a picture with every one of them.
He doesn't really mean to, but as soon as Troye's head hits the pillow he falls asleep.
Troye had absolutely no clue where he was. It seemed like some type of abandoned building. It was old, most definitely. The paint on the walls was chipping, the floorboards were scuffed up and some were even missing.
He looked to his right to see a window that showed the city—of what Troye assumed to be—New York. Then he looked to his left, seeing Connor sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a abnormally wide smile on his face.
Connor stood and started to run up the stairs, Troye deciding to follow him. Troye was slower at running so by the time he got to the top of the stairs Connor was already inside the room.
Troye tried to walk in but could not walk through the door. He kept hitting this, thing. It looked like glass. Troye reached his hand out to touch the barrier. It felt like glass. Troye wound his fist up and punched, immediately bringing his hurt hand back to his chest. But it was definitely not breakable like glass.
Suddenly the light inside the room Connor was in went out, yet Troye could still see perfectly inside.
"T-Troye," Connor whimpered.
Troye banged on the wall, desperately trying to get through to his scared lover. His eyes widened when seeing a woman appear behind Connor, wrapping an arm around his waist, bringing a knife to his neck.
Troye pounded harder on the barrier as Connor screamed to help him. But he couldn't. The woman cut a slit across Connor's throat and let him drop to the ground as he bled out while Troye cried because he couldn't save him.
Troye woke up with a gasp. Tears were already rolling down his face and he was panting hard.
"J-just a nightmare. It's not r-real Troye."
