BABYGIRL | tronnor

CHAPTER 3

(This is how I imagine Connor, but with a silver lip ring, minus the tongue piercing. Also only the tattoos on his forearms are colorful and they fade/ombré to black ink tattoos from his elbows to his shoulders.^)

CONNOR
Everything in LA is literally walking distance, so soon enough, we reach my house. Pretty decent sized, too. But you would think drug businesses roll in heaps of money, and let me tell you: they do. But the key is to make sure you aren't suspicious to the cops, so I make the outside look okay, but the inside look like a millionaire's mansion. See, ya gotta use your brain.

But anyway, I unlock the front and walk into the foyer, which still looks like a normal house. But when you turn the corner, welcome to the millionaire's mansion. Yeah, I'm proud of my house don't judge me. I turn to look at Troye's reaction and his jaw is dropped. (Queue sound effect from the Messy Boys collab with Troye and Tyler where Tyler puts his beer in the machine and Troye just screams. It's extremely specific, I know.)

"Thanks? I guess..." I say and laugh.

"Wait dude this is so dope. How much did this all cost? Oh my sweet baby Jesus... Even though I'm Jewish." Troye scans the interior with his eyes.

"You're so weird. But to answer your question: a few million." I smirk. One of my bad habits, I will admit, is that I absolutely love to show off. Well, that and I leave the cabinets open.

Troye skims his fingers over all the things within reach of him. "Connor your house is so cool. God I wish I had a place like this... or at least a place with running hot water." Troye comments. To be honest, I feel really bad for him. It's not like he enjoys his job, he's just trying to survive LA. I shouldn't have been too judgmental yesterday, but of course I'm not gonna admit that. I glance at Troye again and he's still looking around, his bright blue eyes lit up with amazement.

"Alright, let's get you fixed." I say pulling out the first aid kit.

He groans and stomps his feet in a mini tantrum, "But I wanna look at more things!!!"

"Alright, well, I thought you weren't five. But I guess I was wrong. Sit on the counter my Baby Girl." I tease.

Troye rolls his eyes but hops onto the counter, "Don't call me that! It makes me feel like I'm 'working'." He raised his fingers and air quotes the word working.

"Roll up your sleeves." I command and he does, revealing several dark bruises up and down his arms.

"Connor, I'm fine, really. I've been through much worse anyway." He says, pulling away his arms.

The thought of him being in worse conditions hurts me but I brush it off. "Troye, I don't care about what you say.
All I know is that this isn't healthy and I'm gonna fix it." Troye pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. I can't help but admire him, but I scoff instead, "Fine. I'll make you a deal. You can hang around my house for a bit only if you let me treat your injuries."

Troye's gets really excited and roles his sleeves up again, handing his arm to me. I laugh as I spread the ointment onto his bruises and cuts. "You're so childish."

TROYE
I admire the way Connors arms flex when he reaches for my other arm, looking at the colorful sleeve inked onto his skin.

"HEY BABY!" A girl with long ass dark hair runs into the kitchen. She hugs Connor from the back and kisses his cheek. I just watch confused. He smiles and turns his head to kiss her cheek back and says, "Love you."

HOoooooOoOooolllLLLLDDDddd UP. Who's this chick? Connor's girlfriend? Well, he didn't exactly say he was gay.

She's only wearing a sports bra and compression shorts... Ok, what?