[ The Murphy Times ]

[ oh, how enchanting ]

"So Evan, you are here to start a new life as a journalist I see?" Sweat beads ran quickly down Evans soft face as he maintained himself, slipping his thoughts to the back of his mind.
"Y-yes, that is correct." He took a breath like his therapist had told him to do when he was nervous, "I've been studying at a local university near my hometown for three years now and have completed the course with high scores. The local newspaper had also employed me to report on small things that had occurred. It's been my dream since I was young to work as a journalist for your news paper and I haven't given up, I wouldn't be here if I had."
"I see." The interviewer jotted down notes with messy letters. Her poker face was on which cause Evan's nerves to increase. The door behind him opened silently without Evan being aware of it, "Now Mr Hansen, if I called the boss in now, would you be able to give a valid and breath taking report on our interview?"
"Y-yes?" He responded in a half uncertain tone, sounding more like a question. Suddenly a deep voice spoke from behind him.

"With that stutter you wouldn't be able to get information out of anyone."

Evan swivelled around in the seat to see a broad shouldered man with silvery hair and an intense stare. Larry Murphy, the head of The Murphy Times. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were furrowed. An intense but relaxe look rested on his face, causing Evan to internally shiver. He cleared his throat and looked Mr Murphy directly in the eye, trying to remember everything his professor had taught.

"Mr Murphy, eh- hello! I'm Evan, Evan Hansen. I'm here for the interne position you had available." Evan got up and put his hand out for a handshake, Larry shaking it back. "Yes, I know, that's why I'm here." Evan nodded and fiddled with his fingers, unsure of what to say. "So you think you have what it takes to be a journalist here huh?" Evan opened his mouth to respond but Larry hammered him with another. "How many reports have you made and with how much feedback? Positive or negative? Other journalists you aspire to be? And the biggest question I have for you Mr Hansen, why do you want to work for the Murphy times?"

Overwhelmed was an understatement at this point in time, the journalist course didn't cover being bombarded with questions unfortunately. Larry facial expression turned into a semi scowl as Evan regained himself.
"Uh, I've made 25 offical reports and 37 practice ones, and I've gotten pretty positive feedback from at least 30 people who have read over them or emailed me personally," he managed to sneak a concerned smile towards Larry. "I'm inspired by you as you started from scratch in your career and it would be an honour to work for you so I can start off on my own path and help build the paper."

Evan took an excessive breath and looked carefully at Mr Murphy, examining his expression. "Oh, how enchanting." Larry almost snicker. "A town boy with a small amount of experience thinks he can make the big time. And I'm very aware of what I have achieved Mr Hansen, no need to retell me. A good journalist is inspired by the self and no one else, it is seen as a weakness if you build yourself off someone else here Evan. And I would barely call that enough reports to fill a fraction of a paper." The scowl remained put on his face, and Evan was nothing but disappointed and hurt. "Perhaps journalism isn't for you Evan." And with that, Larry moved out of the door, gesturing for Evan to leave. He looked back at the interviewee and hung his head. He headed out dismally with his bag.

--

The sky scraper have a rather fitting name, thought Evan as he tried desperately to clear his mind as he looked up at the buildings from central part. The harsh sides really do scrape the sky. Evan drew his eyes away from the fantastic building and focused on something closer that brought him back to himself. His eyes brimmed with tears as he sat up again, restless on the bench. He watched as everyone just walked past, too caught up in their own lives. He climbed his eyes shut and clenched his palms over his face, hiding the tears. He could feel a panic attack coming on as someone sat next to him, thighs touching. He scrambled up and looked down, wiping his eyes.

"Whoa there, calm the fuck down." Evan was greeted by a rather strapping young man with long brown hair that was tied up in a bun. A camera was slung over his shoulder and he was wearing a rather dark colour pallet of clothing. His eyes were crisp blue with a hint of brown. When Evan looked closer, he noticed the heavy dark rings that hung under his eyes and how scrawny he was, also rather intimidating. "Are you just going to stare at me because it's freaking the shit out of me." And with that, Evan sat back down, still curious about the man, he was no older that Evan himself.

"S-sorry." Mentality hitting himself for stuttering, Evan was starting to wish he hadn't gotten out of bed this morning. "I'm eh Evan, Evan Hansen."
"Well eh Evan, I'm Connor Murphy."
Murphy, like, it couldn't be-
"Like the paper?" Evan couldn't help himself and retrieved a groan in return.
"So many fucking people ask me that, and they freak their shit out when I'm like yeah, like the paper." He looked out at the park then back at Evan. "Don't freak your shit out dude, my dads the boss there. No big deal."

Evan had a sudden hatred for Connor, but empathy and awe at the same time, let's just say he was a big fucking mess.

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