Sincerely, Me {A Dear Evan Hansen FF}

{2}

Shit.

That was all I could think. How could I think about anything else?

He read it.

He. Read. My. Letter.

Connor Murphy.

Read my letter.

That's it. I'm screwed.

My hands starting shaking. I trembled in my bed. He read it..

Tears started to fall. Falling onto the paper, that was shaking due to my hands. "..why couldn't you just tell me..?" I mumble, sniffling.

I look at the note he scribbled on, his messy but still readable handwriting. That's when I noticed something else.

His email.

He wrote his email on my paper? Why?

So he can mock me? Yell at me? Get close to me then murder me?

Thoughts swarmed my mind, making it hard to think clearly. I grabbed my back pack that was lazily left on the floor. I pulled my laptop out and typed in his email. I started to write a message.

Dear Connor Murphy,

It's Evan Hansen. Why didn't you tell me? If you were so mad, or something, why wouldn't you tell me?

Sincerely,
Me

I read it over a few times thinking if I should send it or not. I made up my mind. I close my eyes and sigh. After a few moments I opened my eyes and hit the send button.

I set my laptop on the table beside my bed and stood up. Getting into my pajamas my laptop made a weird noise. Like a ding or something.

I pull my pajama shirt on and walk over to it. Looking at my notifications I see a new email. He sent an email. Well that was quick. I open our email and read his.

~~~

Dear Evan Hansen,

I wanted to see if you had a valid reason before yelling at you. I mean, your this really quiet kid and I got a little suspicious that maybe you were gonna try to blackmail me or something. Ok well, I didn't exactly want to scare you.. cause I think you could be a great friend.

Sincerely,
Me

Send this?
Yes/No?

No.

I quickly started to type a reply again. God why is this so fucking hard. It's like talking to him. I look over at my shelves, tempted to pull out the pack of cigarettes and smoke my problems away. No. I have to type this.

Dear Evan Hansen,

I have no idea actually why I didn't confront you. I think I was, but then saw how.. how do I say this? Scared? Nervous? Well I guess I couldn't just ya know.. yell so yeah...

Sincerely,
Me

I read it over about five times before hitting send. I hope that didn't sound weird to him. Wait.. why do I care? Why do I care about him? I care about no one. No one. No one cares about me, so I care about no one.

That's how it works. Right?

~~~

Is this..... is this showing me he cared? Him? Showing he cared.. that doesn't exactly go together.. maybe he's changing..? I start to type.

Dear Connor Murphy,

Are you saying you care? Care about me? I know.. this sounds really stupid. If you don't wanna talk, I'll stop messaging you...

Sincerely,
Me

Swallowing my anxiety I hit send. I started to bite my lip. Scared for the response. I actually liked talking with him. It's like I have a real friend. No, not like Jared. He's a family friend so I'm forced to like him, and he's forced to like me. Connor.. well .. I'm not being forced. I actually like him.

~~~

After sending that message I stood up and walked over to my shelf. Staring at the cigarette pack. It, calling out to me. Me, standing there, staring at it. Finally I grab it and pull out a cigarette.

Holding it in my mouth, I grab one of the many lighters in my room and light it up. I grab it out of my mouth and hold it in my hand, sighing I closed my eyes and put the cigarette back into my mouth, inhaling the drug. Take it out. Exhale. Put it back in. Inhale. Take it out. Exhale. I repeated this until my computer dinged. I slowly looked over at it.

Holding the cigarette between my teeth I read the reply. Huh. Is he insecure? Whatever. Remember? I'm not supposed to care. Then why did I type this as I thought that?

Dear Evan Hansen,

Why wouldn't I care about you? You seemed to be pretty nervous and I guess.. I can be pretty scary or so I've been told. And no, really it's fine. I like talking with you.

Sincerely,
Me

I must already be high if I sent that. I don't care about him. He can go die in a fucking hole for all I care. I. Don't. Care. About. Him.

Do I?

~~~

~Fro