- TROYE -
My job for the rest of the day was sitting in Tyler's office, reading his vast collection of gossip magazines while answering the occasional phonecalls for Tyler.
My feet are propped on his desk and I am leaning back on his desk chair, reading a magazine when the phone rings again.
"Tyler Oakley's office, this is Troye speaking" I state, pulling out Tyler's notepad that I put his phone messages on. I write the time and date on the top of a new sheet, waiting to relay the message onto the paper.
"Where's Tyler?" a man asks.
"He's busy at the moment. Can I have your name?" I ask, pen ready to write.
"You know my name. I was there a couple days ago?" he states, rudely.
I did?
The only person I met in the past week who doesn't work at the theater was Mi--.
Oh.
"Mike?" I ask, anger building inside of me.
"Yeah. Where's Tyler?" he repeats.
"Why the hell do you think I would tell you that?" I spit.
"Cut the crap and tell me where he is. I need to talk to him"
"Don't you dare come near Tyler ever again" I warn.
"Or what?" he laughs.
"Or....I'll tell Sawyer" I say, smiling when I hear the silence on the other end.
He's scared of Sawyer. I knew that much by now.
"He's my fucking boyfriend. You've known him for what? A week?" he says
"I don't care what you think. If you ever come near Tyler or even talk to Tyler, I won't hesitate to call the police" I growl.
"You can't stop me from seeing my boyfriend" he argues.
"Watch me" I say before hanging up the phone.
It takes a while, but I find a way to block his number on Tyler's office phone. I take a deep breath before facing another problem in front of me.
Do I tell Tyler?
A couple hours later and I have returned to my previous pasttime of leafing through magazines when Tyler barges through the door, breathlessly.
He flops onto the couch, and lets out a frustrated groan that is muffled by the cushions.
"Fun day?" I laugh.
He groans in response and shoves his face further into the pillows.
"I'm going to take that as a yes" I say, stretching my limbs before starting to walk over to him.
"How is me groaning a good thing?" he asks, flipping onto his back on the couch.
"I could think of a couple scenarios where you groaning is a very good thing" I smirk.
"Kinky" Tyler states, looking at the ceiling.
"What's up?" I ask, plopping down on the couch next to his head.
He's very short, and even when his entire body is lying down on the couch, there is still a little bit of empty couch leftover.
I think it's cute.
"My head hurts" he mumbles, rubbing his eyes from underneath his glasses.
"Do you want me to get you some medicine?" I ask.
