Under My Skin (Troyler AU)

3 - An Amazing First Impression

Hey it's Bailey. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this story, I really am. But between the last update and this one, there have been many developments that have made it difficult to continue this story. I've fought with myself on this topic for over a month now, and I've decided that I'm going to continue this story. But there's one catch: @awetilly won't be helping me, and probably won't throughout this whole story. Don't worry, we're not fighting or anything, she's just very busy and has been going through some personal problems. And I'm not trying to be rude when I say this, but please, don't go asking her questions or anything.

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Troye's POV

I lost Hayden long ago.
I'm 99.999 percent sure he left me on purpose, perhaps hoping that I'd find a cute guy to hook up with for the night. I can't really blame him; the first hour we were here I kept myself glued dutifully to his side, uninterested in the celebrities roaming about the venue. It's not like I could get to them even if I wanted to anyway; they were all heavily guarded by security guards, paperazzi, and herds of fans. So much so that I couldn't even see one, much less speak to one.
But now Hayden was gone, and I had to struggle through the eccentric, bustling crowds on my own. I was constantly pulling my phone out of my pocket to check for any messages or missed calls from him, with no results. He was probably off somewhere sipping on a sparkling glass of champagne, making googly eyes at passing hunks.
After another hour or so, I was thoroughly fed up and tired. I just wanted to go back to my hotel and sink under the warm blankets for a good thirteen hours. The venue was almost over anyway, and since my ride was MIA, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Or rather, the hands
of a good friend who doesn't live far from here, and is hopefully level-headed enough not to lose all bearings at a venue, aka, an overrated party with a bunch of posh-y, famous people. It was much too loud and crowded to make a phone call where I was, so I decided to venture out back behind the building, where only the distant flashes of cameras and faint beat of the music could be detected, not another soul in sight. I sighed in relief, retrieving my phone once more to unlock it and open the contacts app. I dully noted that it had 14 percent battery; I forgot to charge it before I left. It didn't really matter, I'd be home soon anyway.
I scrolled straight to the 'S's in my contacts, finding Sawyer's contact info at the top of that list. I quickly tapped his name and brought the phone to my ear. After only a couple rings, he picked up.
"Yoooooo, what up Sivan?" He slurred, his American accent thicker than usual.
"Sawyer- have you been drinking?"
"...No?"
"Liar! Dammit Sawyer, don't tell me you're at the stupid venue, too?"
I heard a heavy chortle from his end of the line. "You're here too? Dude, we need to hang out! I haven't seen you since that time at Yuri's when you and that girl almost did it because she thought-"
"Shutup!" I hissed, my fingers clenching tighter around my cell. "We agreed to never talk about that again. Ever."
Sawyer laughed again. "Whatever, man. Hey, did you need something?"
I shook my head, even though he couldn't see. "I guess not. It's fine, I'll text you tomorrow."
"Alright, see you when I see you, man."
"Bye."
I rubbed the back of my neck, stressed, and saw that my phone now had 9 percent battery. Fantastic.
Dejectedly, I turned to enter the building before I got snatched up by a creeper, only to see the hard, iron door hurling towards my face. I only had enough time to gasp before I felt an extreme pressure on my forehead, then numbness. I felt weightless for a few moments, and a warm tingling sensation spread throughout my body, starting at my left cheek and making my toes curl. I forced my eyes open, to see a green-haired, bespectacled man kneeling over me on the cold, hard pavement, with his trembling hand cupping my cheek. He looked kind of like that gay celebrity Tyler Oakley. Oh man, that door must've really rung my bell. I could hear a piercing ringing in my ears; my vision swimming and my limbs heavy.
I could tell the man was talking, but his words seemed distant and echo-ey. I read his lips: Are you okay? I'm so sorry! Please say something, are you okay?
I peered drunkenly into the double-helixes of blue and green in his eyes, trying to focus. I blinked a few times.
"I-I think so, I just..." I didn't have the energy or breath to continue, and besides, I couldn't hear myself speak anyway, so I gave up on that, huffing.
Just then the door behind us burst open once more, and a sharply-dressed man with a large camera emerged.
"There he is! Mr. Oakley, please tell the viewers how you feel about- who's that?"
I faintly registered the muttered "Shit" under the man's breath, because, this was freaking Tyler Oakley. The gay celeb, reality-show star, internet sensation, tens of millions of fans, Tyler Oakley.
What the hell did he think he was doing, knocking me over like that? This would be on the front page of every magazine in existence within two days! I weakly lifted my arms to push the danger-zone away from me, but was caught off guard by a sudden, agonizing pounding in my skull, reminding me that I had just been hit in the head with an eighty pound iron door, flying full force due to the frantic push of Tyler Oakley, likely in a futile attempt to escape the paperazzi crowding around us now. Their cameras were clicking and flashing, making waves of nausea and wooziness to overcome me, and the pounding in my head grew more intense. Tyler noticed.
"If any of you print any of those pictures, I'll sue whoever the hell you work for ten times what they're worth!"
Slowly, the cameras stopped flashing, and the crestfallen photographers lowered them, groaning and whispering among themselves. I closed my eyes and focused on not passing out as Tyler shooed them all away, quite the Kinght-in-Shining-Armor, despite having been the one to cause this problem in the first place.
Once we were alone again, Tyler was quiet for a long moment. I pried my eyes open once more to see him in an incredibly distressed state, on his feet now, biting his lip and running a hand through his hair.
"Can you walk?" He asked me.
"No." I replied bluntly.
"Do you wanna try?"
"No."
"Do you need to go to the hospital?"
I shuddered. "No."
"What do you want me to do then?" He demanded exasperatedly. I shrugged, feeling that tiny effort tire me even further.
"Oh," Tyler said, a look of realization dawning across his features. "I see what this is."
I raised an eyebrow, still lying flat on the ground and not feeling well enough to care. "Do you?"
"Yeah," he chucked humorlessly. "Alright, what is it you want?"
I raised both eyebrows at that. "Huh?"
He seemed unimpressed, shaking his head before responding. "Name your price."
"My price...?"
"To keep your mouth shut about this and stop pretending to be hurt. What do you want? Free merch? An autograph? A selfie?"
"If you're gonna be a dick, get the hell away from me. I don't need any help from someone like you." I spat, the world spinning around me as I attempted and failed to sit up.
"W-what do you mean?" He asked caught off guard and confused.
"Big-headed..." I started, letting my head thud gently back against the concrete as black was relentlessly closing in around the edges of my vision. "Egotistical, selfish, inconsiderate, arrogant, self-important jerks..."
With every word I grew quieter and more unfocused, until everything was black, and I could no longer feel the pain thrashing inside my skull.

So that's that. I'm so, so sincerely sorry it took so long! And if you're dissappointed that Clo won't be writing with me anymore or you think that the story won't be as good because of it, then don't read <3