the trip that started it all

Chap.39

}{}{}{ hello my smilies, I just wanted to thank Mary( conn-da- bonn on tumblr) for help in plot development from the drama to come.

P.s. possibly a lot of Pov changes so yeah. Enjoy!

Connor's pov

I have been crying ever since the flight has landed and made it safely to my apartment a week ago.

No, this isn't an apartment anymore. An apartment can be can considered home and this doesn't feel like home. A home is where even if its silent, you feel loved and cared for because of the memories.

Memories like the cuddles we had, the kisses we shared, the laughter we laughed, the childish ways, the inside jokes, the first spark, disney, the understanding, and, the thing that brought us closer than ever, amplify.

But all those memories, I need to count them all as lies. I don't want him to hurt me by saying everything we shared was a lie, but i refuse to hurt myself over saying that only half of it was fake, if that. It hurts way more trying to understand which ones are real because they all blur together and I see want I want to see, not what is actually there.

I need to get away. From here. From friends. From family. From the world. Everything here reminds me of him. I know people remind me of Troye. If it was my friends, asking if I were ok, to fans, not knowing we had broken up, tagging me in old pictures and post about being a cute couple, because trust me, I've already got that this week and it just happened.

With every @ or #, every text post, every edit, every picture made me cry harder and harder.

I need to get out of here. I know Troye has to be hurting to, he has to be. The way he looked at me was genuine. Then again, people can say ' lol' without meaning it. It can be just the same as ' I love you'.

I want to go somewhere before we dated. Somewhere that can't be corrupt my lovesick mind. a place i was with him, but could also be alone if needed.

I booked a last minute flight and started to repack my bag. I gathered new clothes, hair products, and anything vital.

I was looking for anything else in my drawer when I saw it. My little white book. My heart sunk as I picked it up, knowing what was inside, knowing the joy I had for this. I flipped the cover to arrive on the first page.

My dream wedding

I flipped to the next page.

The perfect tux

I started to flip through fast as tears arrived in my eyes.

Color skims

Flower arrangements

Catering

invite list

Potential First dance list

Cakes.

The pages went on and on. How could he do this to me? To us? My blood started to boil as I heard his words over again in my head.

I ripped out every page except one. It was a drawing of Troye in what i imagined his suit would look like, his cute little flower sticking out and his hair done nice. I put my heads in my hands above the photo and cried about how I'm never going to see it happen.

All because I wanted to be happy, because I was happy. Maybe I just don't deserve that...

I packed the bag and headed to queenstown.

#### Troye's pov####

I didn't sleep on the plane. I couldn't sleep on the plane. Not with the thought of Connor on my mind.

I got off the plane and found my bag as soon as I could. I called an uber and watched the world go by so slowly. We made it and i paid the driver. I grabbed my bag from the trunk.

I had this scene planned out in my head like in the movies. I walk in, looking frantic for him. He would hear my heartfelt speech and jump into my arms. I would take my necklace off to place the ring back on his finger.

But things aren't like the movies.

I opened the door and it was a barren waste land in there. Nothing seemed thriving or full or life. Every time I would come back from Australia, This place was filled to the brim with color.

I walked through the apartment and felt my heart shatter, knowing I'd have to go more days without him.

I walked to the bedroom and knew he had been here. The room still smelled like him and the bed wasn't made. It killed me to know he knew I was coming and he got out, to know I missed him, but what? A week? A day? 20 minutes?

I walked to his side of the bed and saw scattered papers everywhere. I sat down and looked them all. All wedding ideas with some sketches. I looked at the book that sat on the nightstand. Only one piece of paper stayed. A picture of me in a tux with a tear stain to the side. In the corner, I saw his little cf for his signature. My heart fluttered at the sight, at the thought:

He doesn't completely hate me.

________________________

Connor hadn't been online in 15 hours. My only hunches are that either he's on internet restriction or that he is near or in Australia.

I continued to refresh until O finally saw him post something.

It was a picture of the ocean under a sunset from an airplane window. At least I know he's near Australia. I need to find where so I can find him. I know he's pissed. He has a right too, but I just hope he can forgive me.

It's like he just walked out of my life as soon as he walked in it.