#Dear evan hansen fanfic

[antpelts]

When they were little Evan and Jared wanted to travel the world. So their moms both set aside savings accounts for them as gifts for college graduation to go on a tour of Europe because they were going to be friends forever. Right? They're 22 now and Jared's graduated and Evan's getting there. They've got the option to skip the trip and save the money or go ahead and take it, under the assumption that the other would skip they both take a chance.

[dearevan-nortonao3]

Hello. It’s Ev again. This is my shameless ao3 advertisement blog. Because I want people to read my fics. I need the attention.

Anyway here have my fics so far:

[morg-among-the-stars]

Grow

Word Count: 7,384

This is the best one-shot I’ve ever written as well as the longest. Just look at that word count! This started out as a cute and fluffy (community) college fic, but it turned into a lot more than that, so I hope all you Kliensen enjoyers like it!

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Jared has never been all too nice to Evan.

For a long time, he found ways to excuse it. He'd excuse his rudeness as jokes and dark humor; always telling a speechless or borderline-offended Evan, "I'm just messing with you, it's a joke!"

It wasn't until he started a term at the local community college that he allowed himself to get hit with the truth. (Not to face it, for he'd faced it a long time ago. Getting hit with it is something all it's own.)

From what Jared remembers, Evan kept his head low for the remainder of senior year, got his diploma, and had plans of starting community college.

Evan was the most paranoid anyone had ever seen him, genuinely fearful of not getting into a two-year school with a one-hundred percent acceptance rate.

He was also paranoid for a separate reason entirely; still trying to shake off what senior year had done to him.

Jared went away for one final year of summer camp and Evan spent his summer working at the local Pottery Barn, trying to save up money for his classes in the Fall.

Unlike Evan, Jared procrastinated heavily on starting community college.

When the Fall semester came around, Evan kept to himself for the most part.

By high school graduation, he had upgraded from being a family friend to a good friend, which Jared would refer to Evan as to his extended family, who vaguely remembered the anxious boy's name.

Jared didn't talk about Evan much, but when he did, he kept his words positive.

Knowing that Jared talked positively of him even after senior year and all those damn emails he paid him to write made Evan feel genuine happiness in his soul. He was Jared's good friend.

Though, not having Jared around during the start of community college did something to him.

It sounds desperate and he is painfully aware, but he was lonely and for the first time in his life, too busy to reach out.

Always worried about one thing or the other; a paper to work on, or a continuing afternoon shift at Pottery Barn.

It felt good to be busy, for Evan has never been busy with work or school. (His anxious habits led him to be a diligent student and employee; he didn't mess up many things and when he did, he tried hard to fix them. The people skills aspect of customer service was still a work in progress.)

But now, a semester is under his belt and the following Winter semester is fast-approaching.

Evan was smart enough to register ahead; one less thing to check off his to-do list.

On the first day of the Winter semester, Evan rides the shuttle bus to the campus. It's an hour long commute that isn't the best thing in the world, but he makes do.

He is grateful for his schedule, he only has a general English course today and then he has time to kill before the commute to work. Mondays for the next handful of weeks won't be terrible, unlike every other Monday in existence.

Though, other days of the week aren't so nice, which he takes note of when planning his first week.

Take life day by day, a motivational phrase that's written in the margin of his planner.

A mantra of sorts that Dr. Sherman told him during a recent session.

Habitually, he gets to class early and picks a seat near the back of the classroom by the window; not in the way back. A sweet-spot to listen well to a lecture, but not make any eye contact with the professor and risk being called out if he mumbles an answer to himself.

Students file in, some one-by-one and others, in small pairs or trios.

As the classroom gets full, Evan sits alone in the sort-of-back near the window.

People don't pay him much mind, except for the occasional friendly, "Good morning."

There's a face he sees walking in the door, wearing those same dorky circle glasses and having the same affinity for graphic t-shirts that Evan has always been familiar with.

But Jared looks different, the months of summer and the midst of Fall have treated him well.

Maybe a little too well, because Evan is struck by something strong that he's felt one other time in his life.

Jared sees him and without a second thought, goes to sit next to him; at ease that he has a friendly face to talk to.

His good friend, Evan.

Evan looks at him, specifically at Jared's biceps.

There's muscle on them that wasn't there when they were in high school.

Jared isn't shredded by any means at all, but he looks strong, looks good.

He swears he doesn't have a thing for muscular people, but he wants to ask a million questions about what happened during summer camp and why Jared didn't warn him of his new build.

But Evan has learned better than to ask blunt and odd questions as a means of conversation, so he starts off simply and prays that the small crack in his voice goes unheard.

"Jared- Hi, how've you been?"

He wants to also ask how Jared's time at summer was and what he's been up to in the last few months.

He also wants to apologize for never asking any of these questions before now, when he hasn't asked anything yet.

His mind is trying to slow itself down and organize his thoughts in a coherent way. Being scatter-brained does him no good.

"I've been good, ready to get back to work." Jared tells him, it comes out lighthearted and a bit sarcastic, "I need this class for my major, so I'm getting it out of the way."

It's the same kind of sarcasm that Evan has grown accustomed to, though it's not used at his expense for once.

That feels good, the comfortability that'd sprouted around graduation a few months back is still there.

Before there's anymore time to continue on, the class starts and Evan readies himself with a notebook and pen, and flips through his other notes for a clean page.

Jared, getting himself straight (awful choice of words) at the same time, glances over at Evan's page-flipping and he sees vibrant highlighter marks and neatly written words printed line-after-line down the page.

As the introductory lecture progresses and assignments are laid out, Jared finds himself looking at Evan, at his organized, colorful notes.

Evan became the type of person that Jared mocked in high school. For one reason or another, he hated those people who's notes were written in neat handwriting with little doodles in the margins and color-coded to stay on-top of things.

But now, that he's older but also because it's Evan, the pretentious note-taking isn't pretentious at all.

It's almost cute is the coherent thought that Jared comes up with.

He gets back to his own notebook and before either of them know it, they have an essay due next Monday and class is dismissed.

"Where are you going after this?" Evan asks while packing up his belongings.

There are a few hand-sewn stitches to rips and tears in Evan's backpack that Jared notices, along with two minimalistic patches sewn onto the small front pocket.

One patch is a yellow smiley face and the other is a rainbow that's out of order with the words, "Choose Kindness" printed underneath it.

Both patches are most likely from Heidi, a little too bright for what Evan prefers. (Or maybe not, maybe Evan doesn't mind that vibrance and showiness anymore. Jared wouldn't know.)

"I was gonna go home for a while, I have a late shift tonight."

"Where are you working?"

"The Best Buy down the road."

It makes perfect sense in Evan's mind when the answer comes from Jared's mouth, he wouldn't expect anything different.

Jared must be able to sense this, because he's smiling as soon as he says it, smiling faintly as it clicks into place that he's still the same geek who thought he was too cool to proudly be friends with Evan Hansen.

But now he sees it, Evan is still the same introverted guy he knew, but he's found his footing now that they've gotten away from the hell that was high school.

Evan is put together. Well, more put together than what he used to be.

He looks good, standing a little straighter, and his dark, sunken under-eyes aren't as dark nor sunken.

Granted, they aren't at the place of a person who gets a square eight hours of sleep a night, but Evan looks like he has been improving at least somewhat in the taking-care-of-himself department.

"What about you? Do you have work right after, or...?"

"No, I don't have work until later. I mostly sit in the library and get homework done until work."

Jared looks at him a little oddly and follows him out into the hallway,

"Are there any study-buddies you have in the library?"

Evan laughs a little to himself, something he wouldn't have be able to do a while ago.

"No, but I don't mind the alone time." (He didn't mind the alone time when his best friend wasn't a viable option, that is different now.)

"I was going to go home, but I don't have to," Jared states, in a way he thinks is cooly, pushing his hands into his jeans pockets. "And, I have no idea what to write my essay about and you're a genius writer, so I thought you could... help me out some?" (Smooth, Jared. Smooth.)

There's light that flickers in Evan's eyes, he can sense it that Jared doesn't want to simply mooch off his work like he did back in public school.

If that was his intention, he would've been more direct, like every time he was stumped or blatantly uninterested in high school. Saying something along the lines of, "Evan, there's no way I can get this done on my own. Give me your notebook, I'll be done with it in a minute..."

Evan separately takes, "genius writer" that isn't laced with sarcasm for once in their damn lives, sets it into his heart, and makes his way to the library with Jared walking right beside him.

Amidst the whispered catching up that they do, Evan learns that Jared is genuinely scratching his head about this first essay, trying to figure out how to answer the prompt that was written across the whiteboard during lecture: What is one thing a person can do to maintain happiness?

Evan already has a vague outline drawn up, he is going to talk about the importance of going outside and getting away from screens and the internet, and how too much of it can be damaging to one's mental health. (Writing about hard-hitting things can sometimes be healing; this wouldn't be the first time Evan wrote something that would make his heart ache. When consistently reassured by his eleventh-grade English teacher that only she would see it, he wrote a paper about his dad and all the feelings he had towards him. Allegedly, the teacher had gotten teary-eyed when grading it.)

Jared is sitting with a few ideas in his head now, but he would rather listen to Evan ramble about the importance of going outside.

Though it's understandably dampened, his love for cool, dewy grass under his feet and warm, golden sunlight on his face is still there.

Evan more-so talks about sitting on a front porch for a moment or going for a walk around the neighborhood as opposed to hiking or forest-bathing.

He is without a doubt passionate about this subject, maybe he's been itching for someone to ask him why too much time online isn't good for a person's mental health and why soaking in the sun can be greatly beneficial.

Every few seconds, he looks at Jared to gauge whether he's bored or not, he definitely falls into the latter category.

Jared listens to Evan talk and damnit, the truth hits him. He's still fluttery in the chest around Evan Hansen, still in love with him.

In love with him and all those articulate words in his head that he never lets out. (Until his fluttery-hearted best friend shows up on campus and wants to listen to him talk for hours. Jared was always too cool to admit it, but he thought Evan was quite smart and liked listening to him talk about this, that, and the other subject he was interested in at the time. He thinks that now, still.)

They are only in the library for thirty minutes before Jared shuts his laptop and flips backwards through his notebook, checking the watch that's in front of a few colorful paracord bracelets: one lime green and another, blue and forrest green braided together.

"You know, we have time before work." He starts, Evan looks at him past his own laptop, a little curious. "We can go back to my place for a bit if you want. I've got some camp stories," He leans a little forward, grinning, "that I can't say here."

That intrigues Evan, who looks down at the corner of his laptop to check the time. He has roughly three and a half hours before he has to get to work, plenty of time indeed.

He wants to hear these camp stories, but he also wants to gain answers to the millions of thoughts and questions that are racing around in his head like bumper cars.

So, he begins to pack up once again, telling Jared (maybe a little too eagerly) that he would love to catch up, and Jared drives them to his house.

Jared's bedroom has not changed one bit.

Evan spent many an afternoon practically breathing down Jared's neck to make sure that the emails for the Murphy's were perfect down to the last detail. (Which failed him in the end, but Jared has forgiven him for it all. Memories that are fading little by little.)

Before that, he visited on occasion, when Mrs. Klienman wanted Jared  to hang out with him. They were each other's one-and-only true friend.

Unbeknownst to both of the boys, Ms. Hansen and Mrs. Klienman shared the same sentiment of lonely sons who needed someone their own age to spend time with.

When Jared and Evan were little, time spent in Jared's room was always one adventure or another. They would take turns trying to beat Crash Bandicoot levels on Jared's well-loved Xbox 360. Other times, they would wreck his bedroom for the sake of a grand pillow fort.

Though, during the warm months of Spring and Summer, the boys would be told to, "Get off that game and go play outside!"

In the backyard of the Klienman household was Evan's favorite thing in the entire world: a big climbing tree with a long rope attached to a tire swing.

As much as Jared liked to crack a cruel joke, the irony of a tiny seven-year-old Evan Hansen falling out of that tree, only to fall out of a tree three times its size roughly a decade later has never been brought to light.

As a child, Evan was a brave little boy, climbing higher and higher to focus on the burning sun on his skin as opposed to his tired and stressed mother. His tired and stressed mother who would not explain why his dad hadn't brought that really big truck back for him to pretend to drive.

Jared liked to swing in the tire swing and have Evan push him higher and higher until his stomach flipped and he felt like a superhero flying through the sky.

Though his life wasn't the best during those times and forward, Evan's play-dates with Jared gave him something to look forward to.

He doesn't remember when they stopped happening, though Jared does and he has apologized for it immensely in recent years; facing the truth and stitching up slowly-healing scars.

At the abandonment done by his father, Evan fell into depression and anxiety, which labelled him a "spaz" by the kids in middle and high school. (Elementary school kids didn't see that anything was different about Evan. All they knew was that he took many trips to the nurse for nervous stomach aches and that he was called to the counselor's office weekly for reasons their teachers wouldn't say.)

Jared never knew how to console and comfort Evan during the troubling time of elementary school, which made him feel quite sad.

In an attempt to make up for it, he learned to always be ready with one dumb joke or another to get a laugh, then another, then another, out of Evan.

Though, come middle school, Evan's nervous tics and ever-present anxiety became worse with budding adolescence.

He never got viciously bullied, but the teasing and being called a "worry wart" and a "crybaby" weren't much help to his already damaged self-esteem. (Was I a bad son? Why did Dad leave?)

Jared was picked on by association, besides the typical "four eyes" and "weirdo" comments he'd always known.

His jokes turned into teasing Evan, not to the extent of the other kids at school (he was never that much of an asshole), but to an extent that hurt his feelings.

Jared would always cover it up, "I'm just messing with you, it's a joke!"

Freshman year of high school came and Evan's straight and short hair had started to  grow out over the summer, curling up at the ends and sticking out in one odd place or the other.

Maybe Heidi didn't have the time or money to take Evan to get a back-to-school trim, or maybe Evan didn't want to burden her with it in the first place.

Nevertheless, he was sporting brand new, unruly curls and Jared couldn't even think of a witty comment to make about them when he saw Evan in the hallway on the first day of school.

Evan was self-conscious, of course he was.

"Does it look bad?" He asked Jared while walking towards their shared homeroom.

Jared, dumb and unable to say something for the first time ever, just shook his head and tried to be as cool as a cucumber. (If cucumbers were suddenly warm all over and colored pink.)

"What- No! It doesn't, doesn't look..." He was sputtering and stammering, and Evan was looking more and more panicked, thinking that Jared was trying to cover up the true disaster of the curly coffee-colored mop on top of his head.

Jared was trying to cover something up. He was trying to cover up the stupid, queer thought that struck him.

The first thought of it's kind, a quick arrow stabbing his heart.

He would deny it was Cupid or any God of love for many, many months.

"It doesn't look bad. You look... good, Evan."

Good, that was what he'd said, but not even close to what he'd thought at thirteen years old.

But now, Jared is nineteen years old and so is Evan, both in Jared's bedroom.

The former is sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard and the latter is sinking down into a bean bag chair near the TV stand across the room.

"So," Evan starts, shifting to get himself comfortable in the lumpy chair, "What are these... raunchy camp stories that you couldn't tell me in the library?"

He sounds a tad snarky, but still genuinely intrigued.

Jared didn't think he could love Evan more if he tried; Evan has always more relaxed in private, especially in an empty house where Jared double-checked to make sure the door was locked for him.

Snark is a thing he's heard from him one or two rare times, one or two rare times that left him surprised and some sort of proud, with heart-shaped pupils in his eyes.

He looks across the room at Evan and leans a little forward, as if he's going to tell a grand tale.

The tale is not grand, but Evan leans in with him.

"So, there was this guy in my bunk, right? A little scrawny, but really smart. Like, really smart, he was a poetic genius." Jared stresses.

Evan asks him bluntly,

"I didn't know you were into poets. What about that, that Brazilian guy from last year? Wasn't he trying to join the military after graduating?"

"Eh, I didn't see him this year." He shrugs, moving on, "And, yeah. I'm into poets, writers, wannabe folk artists."

The last archetype throws Evan off, but he's brought back in when Jared scoots to the edge of his bed and thumps his chest with his hand, enunciating his words like the dramatic son-of-a-bitch Evan is so grateful to have in his life once again.

"I like the sensitive guys! I wanna feel, Evan!"

Evan is laughing at the dramatics, but he can't help but think: a scrawny writer. Well, a scrawny poet. Evan is not a poet, but he is an apparent, "genius writer."

The complete opposite of the strong man Jared bunked with the summer before senior year.

Evan re-focuses and instantly goes for the obvious joke, smiling because he knows how dumb it is,

"Let me guess, you felt him?"

Jared laughs, a loud, "Ha!" from his chest,

"You bet I did!"

He goes on for bit, leaving out the nitty-gritty of everything, but the point is made that second base was reached again.

There are a million stories from camp and one involves an array of rock climbing walls, where Mr. Scrawny-Sensitive-Poet said he'd give Jared fifty bucks if he could get to the top of the tallest one.

It explains Jared's strong biceps, he earned his fifty bucks through many failed attempts and trips to the camp nurse.

He flexes those biceps (being dramatic again, posing like a buff, male model in a magazine or a wrestler) and Evan looks at him. He can hear a buffering dial-up tone ringing in his ears.

Evan tells the eventful stories of being a Pottery Barn employee and by eventful, he means mundane to a hilarious level.

The most eventful thing that's happened in the last few months is one family who argued greatly over the couch they should buy for their living room.

What feels like seconds is truly hours, Jared takes a glance at his watch and looks at Evan, telling him.

"I don't want to say it, but I think you gotta get going for work, so do I."

Evan retrieves his phone from his pocket and as disappointing as it is, Jared is right.

"Oh, yeah. You're right." Evan says, pushing himself out of the bean bag chair. "I had a great time, I missed this."

It's a little too honest, coming right out of his heart. He missed hanging out with Jared and he wants to find time to do it more. Though, he can't even try to apologize before Jared nods,

"I did, too."

He has one more thing from camp to show Evan. "Before you go, I wanted to give you this. I know it's kind of lame; I tried to mail it with a letter to you, but the mail got blocked up."

Getting up off the bed, Jared pulls off the blue and forrest green paracord bracelet and hands it to Evan.

They've never been into sentimental gifts, let alone homemade ones. Let alone ones where Evan would've logically been out of sight, out of mind to Jared.

But Evan wasn't, Jared thought of him all summer long and got to second base with a guy who vaguely resembled him, but would never measure up to the real freckle-dusted Evan Hansen.

Evan is a caught off guard, but he's smiling like an idiot, thanking Jared over and over again.

"It's nothing, really, Evan." Jared tells him, smiling himself. He pushes forward, "Do you have classes tomorrow? I could drive you."

Now, Evan smiles for a different reason, but calms it down.

He thinks about Jared climbing a tall rock wall, muscles flexing, and he thinks about wanting to have a million more afternoons like this one.

He quickly pulls up the class that's marked on his phone’s calendar and shows it to Jared.

He then wishes him a good night, and walks out the bedroom door, fiddling with the bracelet as he goes down the street towards his house.

He's a well-organized young man, he walks briskly, but a giddy feeling fills his lonesome heart up.

Jared stands in front of his bed and the words on Evan's digital schedule are all he can think about.

ENG - Introduction to Poetry

He should've kissed Evan right then and there. It would've been abrupt and out of the blue, but Evan has wit.

Either wit or well-timed college scheduling, whatever makes the difference.

Evan makes it home in time to change and catches the bus to work.

After his shift, his mom is home and fast asleep after a tiresome shift of her own.

He nestles himself in bed after pulling off his uniform and checks his messages one last time before turning on his alarm.

Usually, there are no messages, save for a mobile game notification or a calendar reminder, but there is a text from Jared:

good night. see you tomorrow at 9 :)

He sleeps soundly that night, excited for the sun to come up.

Evan tells his mom about seeing Jared yesterday during and after class; he is happy with every word he says, euphorically happy when he shows her the bracelet Jared made him.

Heidi will give him that, he's making friends in college.

More like reuniting with old ones, but a friend is a friend nonetheless.

Jared is right on time at nine o' clock and Evan rides off with him a little while after his mom is out the door.

The semester goes on and they are frequent study-buddies in the library as well as Jared or Evan's houses.

It is a no-brainer as to what Jared writes that first English essay about.

He writes about the importance of good friends, how having good friends and people in a person's live can help them maintain happiness.

He gets an A and Evan is insanely proud of him, reading the final submission and smiling at the anecdotes about himself.

They continue on to other the other papers that need writing as well as their other separate class work.

It hit him at first, but the thought creeps into Evan's mind over time. Over the period of weeks that he spends up in his room or Jared's, getting sidetracked from studying to talk until his tongue is dry and to laugh until his stomach is hurting.

He wears the blue and forrest green bracelet every day without fail and he sometimes cannot help but think about the scrawny poet that Jared had something with.

Evan is a sensitive person, Jared always teased him for it.

But if Jared is into the soft-spoken, sensitive type, then what does that mean for Evan?

Could he- could Jared? No, that's not it!

Is it? (Evan's better sleep schedule is still maintained, but he finds himself staring at the little smiley-face emoticon that is tacked on the end of Jared's good night messages every night, trying to find some meaning in it.)

That's what good writers do, find meaning in small things.

But there are no lines to be read between, a smiley-face is just that, a smiley-face.

It's everything else that Jared does that allows Evan to find meaning.

He listens extremely well to Evan talk about anything, he is more attentive now than ever.

He's nicer all-around, continuing on from graduation.

And that feels good- great. Evan feels giddy as hell the more he is around Jared.

The Winter semester goes past them and the Spring one starts up in early January.

They don't have any classes together, but they'll be damned if they don't make time for each other.

A revelation hits Evan like a sharp arrow to the chest.

He's sitting up in his room with Jared, halfway trying to convince him to get some work done and then they can goof-off, and halfway saying, "Screw it!" so he can hear laughter rumble in Jared's chest.

He realizes that he may have a bit of a staring problem, an issue he never thought to discuss with Dr. Sherman.

Or maybe he just doesn't know how to bring it up.

How is he supposed to bring up the fact that he found Zoe Murphy to be incredibly beautiful, so he stared at her from across the hallway like a creep, hoping but never able to walk over to her and say something?

Or how he thinks that Jared Klienman is incredibly handsome and attentive and funny- fucking hilarious, and he is mildly (extremely) freaking out that he feels something fluttery in his heart for a man.

How does he bring that up?

The answer is that he doesn't.

He keeps his feelings to himself for the most part, until he gets blindsided with sickeningly sweet ideas of Jared that swim around in his subconscious day and night.

He has to tell him, he can't stare at him like a creep forever. (Or stare at those damn biceps or his lips forever, either.)

It has snowed recently and the roads are covered in ice, road-salt is trying to melt it but with a little difficulty.

Though, the sidewalks are good and ice-free.

Evan, with incessant thoughts racing and swimming in his head, makes a stupid decision one frosty Friday night.

A partially illogical one, one that could wait.

But he can't wait anymore.

So, he bundles up, makes use of the "As Needed" label on the Ativan bottle, leaves a quick note on the refrigerator (I went to visit Jared, I'll be back soon! Love, Evan), and goes out for the twenty-five minute walk to Jared's house. (Evan is stupid, he should've reached out during Fall. Working his ass off in school is a good thing, but he should've brought Jared back into his life before now. Maybe this whole falling in love thing could've happened when it wasn't so cold outside.)

Mrs. Klienman's car isn't in the driveway. If Evan remembers correctly, she goes out most Fridays and leaves Jared to his own devices.

He knocks on the front door and it takes a minute before he can hear Jared coming down the stairs.

The door opens and the warm air from inside the house hits him in the face.

"What- Evan, hey. What the hell are you doing here?"

Jared looks confused (completely understandable when your best friend/the adorable-dork-you've-been-trying-to-get-with-for-years-but-to-no-avail shows up at eight-thirty at night) but there is joy present underneath the confusion.

It's like he's in one of those stupid rom-coms his mom likes to watch. Maybe Evan has some Love Actually note cards hidden away in his puffy coat.

Evan looks at Jared for a solid few seconds. It's dorky as hell, but Jared standing in the doorway in his pajamas like he is right now, is an image that Evan likes quite a lot.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Jared quips, then gets a tad serious. "It's freezing outside, get in here." He somewhat pulls Evan into the house and shuts the door behind him to keep the frigid air out.

"I didn't- I don't mean to show up like this."

"It's fine. You know I don't mind you coming over." Jared says, walking Evan up the stairs toward his bedroom, "I was just playing a game, nothing serious."

Evan shrugs off his coat and beanie, which leaves his hair a little frizzy.

He sets his coat and hat down by the bean bag chair and takes a seat, though he is jittery beyond belief, gently tugging at the paracord bracelet.

Jared sits on the edge of his bed, looking over at Evan in all of his fidgety, frizzy-haired, rosy-cheeked glory.

Good lord, he is extremely gay; that is an accepted fact. Never too cool to proudly be in love with Evan Hansen.

"So," Jared says, "Why have you come to pay me a visit tonight?"

Evan shifts is his seat, the weight of what he's going to say is coming to him now all of a sudden.

He mumbled everything to himself on the walk here, rehearsing and revising the scrambled thoughts in his mind in an attempt to make them coherent.

Jared is looking at him, itching to know what he is going to say, but knowing not to push him. The last thing either of them need is for Evan to be thrown into a panic attack or go running for the bathroom to vomit out his worries.

But, the Ativan helps to calm his nerves. He's already gone through the worst-case scenario: Jared rejects him and never wants to see him again. While that does scare him, Evan thinks of the sensitive poet and how Jared wants to feel.

If Evan can do one thing, it's feel.

"I wanted to- okay... I- come on," He mutters, "come on" under his breath and Jared wholeheartedly has all the time in the world to let him get his thoughts in order.

Evan looks down at his lap for a second, mumbling to himself, then looks back at him.

"So- no. You know how I really, really liked Zoe when we were in high school?" He asks, trying and wanting to get to the point so he can rip this band-aid off.

Jared nods, somewhat begrudgingly, letting the opportunity for a snide comment roll on past him. That is what maturity is, that is what getting out of high school did to him.

It helped him out for the better.

Evan ceases his fiddling with the bracelet and goes for a hangnail on his finger, picking at it and continuing on. "Well," (Rip the band-aid off in one fell swoop) "I feel that way- like that about you."

Jared doesn't know what to do. He feels like that kid during freshman year all over again, looking at Evan with mushy-gushy feelings swelling in his heart.

"Wow." is all he can say at first, then a second time. "Wow. Holy shit. Really?"

Evan nods and his voice is soft, relieved that he said it, but trying to figure out what is going through Jared's mind.

"Yeah. Really."

Jared has always been a hard person to read, that remains true right now.

Evan doesn't know if he should feel guilty or not for saying it; Jared's "Really?" wasn't out of disgust or mockery, it was out of hope.

The hope is unmistakable now, not up for Evan's anxious interpretation.

Jared smiles to himself and a quiet laugh whistles in his nose.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Yes."

"I really, really like you, too."

It is almost instant, Jared sees those words click into Evan's brain and he watches all of his nerves fall away.

Well, there's one tiny nerve left,

"Are you sure?"

That earns Evan a hearty chuckle and Jared tells him to sit with him on the bed.

"Yes! Yes, I am sure. I've really, really liked you for years!"

Jared has wanted to say that for years, Evan feels a little dumb when he asks the obvious question.

"Why, why didn't you tell me before now?"

Jared grins, in love with the most oblivious person on the planet.

"You were steadily making goo-goo eyes at Zoe Murphy since ninth grade, I didn't stand a chance. And, I didn't want to deal with that rejection. I was never going to tell you, truly."

He sighs and rests his hand on Evan's shoulder, a friendly juxtaposition to what he has just revealed. "But, there was no rejection, you confessed first."

Evan, like when he first saw Jared at the top of the Winter semester, has a million questions. He starts with one, the most important one next to the obvious question.

"When did you... I guess... first start feeling all this?"

"Freshman year, when this started to get curly." Jared emphasizes "this" with a gentle flick of a curl by Evan's ear, "I said you looked good, but you didn't just look good."

"What did I look like then?"

"You looked hot, still do."

Jared will say it straight, Evan has always appreciated that, even if his bluntness has been used for worse than for better.  Evan thinks to himself for a moment, looking straight ahead.

He was infatuated, then in love with Zoe, meanwhile Jared was infatuated, then in love with him.

And he couldn't see any of it.

Evan laughs at himself, smiling softly.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize, you were into someone else at the time. You couldn't have known."

Evan thinks of all the guys Jared has known and gotten to second base with and bragged about whilst calling Evan a virgin (while he, himself still is one).

Above all of them, Jared likes him the most. Has liked him the most for a long, long time.

"What do we do now?" Evan asks, a little unsure. Jared's arm goes over his shoulder and Evan relaxes a little bit.

"What do you want to do? I wouldn't mind a date, maybe first base... or second-"

"What?"

"I'm kidding!" Jared tells him quickly, "Well, only a little bit."

Evan sighs, a relieved "phew!" Jared's arm around his shoulder is making his heart excited enough as it is.

Start out slow, start out simple.

"A date would be nice."

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

Evan doesn't check his phone's calendar. He can sort anything out if he needs to.

"No, no. I'm not busy."

An idea comes to Jared instantaneously, something in him subconsciously pulls Evan a little closer to him. (He has wanted to hug Evan like this forever, but cool guys don't hug, and they definitely don't hug each other as guys who really, really like each other. Screw them, they aren't living!)

Jared's gaming laptop on the desk has gone idle, the clock displayed on it reads 9:04pm.

"Does your mom know your here?"

"Yeah, I left a note." Jared snickers, he has to ask,

"What'd it say? 'Mom, I went to go tell Jared that I'm really gay for him. B-R-B!'."

"No, I just told her that I'm over here to visit you." Evan states directly, but he does know that he'll have to explain this to his mom at some point or another.

Right now, he sets his mind to "another".

It's getting late and he has to head home.

Jared understands and lets Evan go, but not before sending him on his way giddily.

Evan pulls on his coat and beanie and steps halfway out the bedroom door, and Jared leaves him with,

"See you tomorrow, handsome."

A hot, handsome, genius writer.

Evan says goodbye to Jared and makes his way out the door and down the road. (His heart may burst at any second. He blames the cold winds, but he is flushed rosy pink when he arrives home to his still-empty house.)

At around eleven-forty-five, when Jared finally goes to bed, yet Evan is in the bathroom in the middle of the night, a by-now routine good night message is received on Evan's phone:

good night! see you tomorrow!! <3

The date Jared thought of instantly was nothing special, but he took Evan's passionate explanation about spending time outside and put it to use.

While it is still cold, the daytime is much more forgiving than the night.

It's sunny out, which makes the cold less brutal.

Jared takes Evan out for a walk through the park.

Extremely simple, but Evan is grateful for it and more than happy to walk along a frozen pond with him side-by-side.

Eventually, when they manage to walk through the entirety of the park, they go back to Jared's house.

They're adults now and they spent some time outside, Mrs. Klienman can't yell at them to play outside.

So, they sit close together in front of the TV, taking turns at impossible-to-beat boss levels.

Boss levels and fights have always intimidated Evan, but he's full of love which manifests itself in determination to win.

It manifests in Jared's enthusiastic cheering and encouragement.

It takes a little more than ten minutes, but though encouragement and love-struck adrenaline, he beats a hard fight.

Jared can’t help himself, he cheers, “Yes!” And kisses Evan’s cheek when he’s still looking at the pixelated, “Save” marker.

Evan can physically feel his heart float around in his chest, on top of the fucking world.

As the days go on, Evan and Jared are at the happiest anyone has ever seen them.

Heidi sees it, all of her son’s euphoria, and asks Evan about it after he comes home from work.

He’d asked Jared if and when he could tell his mom and he was told to, “Tell her whenever you want to.”

So, he did just that, found time to sit her down and tell her that he’s going out with Jared.

While she wasn’t expecting it in the slightest, Heidi is accepting of it. All that matters to her is that Evan is safe and happy, which he is.

He very much is.

Evan’s anxiety sometimes shows itself as organization and perfectionism, still not wanting to draw much attention to himself or mess anything up.

Which is why he tries to find a way to give himself and Jared a perfect first kiss; waiting for a sunset or picture-perfect day that he learns doesn’t exist.

He learns that what he may view as perfect does not exist.

He learns that because it happens when Jared picks him up for school one day in mid-February.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, where everyone and their mother is going out and depleting the store shelves in a hurry.

There’s a grocery store bag behind the driver’s seat and Evan looks right at it.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Jared tells him.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Evan tells him, the bag looks full and Jared should’ve put it in the truck. (No, he shouldn’t have. Everything falls into place.)

Jared sighs and looks right at Evan,

“Alright, you caught me. Just wait for a couple days, can you do that?”

Evan is aware that Valentine’s Day is in a couple days and the mere thought that Jared got him something makes his simple heart oh-so happy.

Jared’s heart is oh-so happy as well, because Evan is leaned-in close and kissing him without a second, hesitant thought.

Grinning like the biggest dummy on the planet, Jared just tells him to, “Oh, come on. You know I’ve been waiting for that! How about another one, for good measure?”

On top of the fucking world.

Both dealing with class work and mundane part-time jobs, but on top of the world nonetheless.

Jared is still sarcastic and quick with a joke, but they aren’t cruelly at Evan’s expense.

He doesn’t need to do that anymore, he doesn’t need to be mean to avoid his love for Evan or the scrutiny of middle and high school kids.

Evan was on a path of self-improvement since graduating, a path that continues and intertwines with self-love. (If Jared loves him amongst everyone else he’s ever been with, there must be something really there.)

They’ve grown a lot, improved a lot over time.

Matured and found ways to persevere though the worst of days.

Collectively, they could not be any prouder of each other.

[ticklishraspberries]

Giggly Glam (Connor, Zoe)

Summary: Connor buys himself makeup, then realizes he has no idea how to do makeup. Zoe tries to help. (Take this Connor lives and gets to heal his relationship with his sister thing I wrote. No one asked me to, I just have an obsession with this stupid fandom. Enjoy it or else /lh.)

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to buy it. He’d only gone into the beauty aisle to buy a new bottle of black nail polish, and had somehow ended up picking out a few cheap makeup products. It was a completely impulsive, stupid decision, and if Connor had an ounce of sense, he’d turn back around and return it all.

But he didn’t. Instead, he decided to use it as an olive branch, or whatever the saying was. You see, almost dying had sort of knocked some sense into his head. Well, that plus some therapy, and seeing the looks that Zoe kept shooting him across the table at dinner.

So, maybe when he got back from the hospital, he’d made a whole big scene about how sorry he was for the way he’d acted towards her, towards them all, and maybe he’d cried harder than he had in years, and clung to his mom like a scared child on the first day of school.

Yeah, looking back, that had been pretty embarrassing. But it had shattered the layer of ice between him and his family, which he supposed was a good thing. He just hadn’t worked up the courage to dip into that murky water again, afraid he’d do something stupid like cry again, or make it worse by clamming up and telling his sister to fuck off like he would have a few months prior.

But a gift? It was an olive branch, he supposed. Not an apology, not an explanation, but it was something. So when he got home, he went right up to Zoe’s door and knocked.

“Come in,” she replied, and she looked surprised when it was Connor who entered, not her mother. “What do you want?”

Her tone wasn’t overly harsh, just a tad annoyed, mostly confused. Connor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, I got you something. At the store. I don’t know if you even really wear makeup, but I just…Yeah. Here you go.”

He placed the bag on her dresser, and turned to leave, but paused when she spoke.

“Makeup?” Zoe asked, standing up off of her bed and walking over, snatching up the bag and looking inside. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t wear it that much, but it’s good to have.”

Connor nodded. “Cool.”

“Why though?”

“Why what?”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “I can’t remember the last time you got me a gift. At least, one that wasn’t clearly bought by mom, who put your name on the label. So why?”

Connor shrugged. “I mean, honestly, I bought it on impulse and realized I was never gonna use it, so I gave it to you. Not very thought out, I guess. Do I get points for trying?” he asked, his tone light although there was a pit of anxiety in his stomach. He still wasn’t used to talking to Zoe like this; normal, casual conversation wasn’t really his forte.

“You got it for yourself?” Zoe asked. “Why wouldn’t you wear it?”

“Cause I get called gay at school for wearing nail polish, I think eyeliner would be pushing my luck,” he replied. When she didn’t seem amused, he continued, “Plus, I have no idea how to use any of it.”

“Where do you think I learned it? It’s not some inherent skill that comes with being a woman. Look up a tutorial online or something,” she said. “Fuck what kids at school think.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. God, could he not get through one conversation without being an asshole? He opened his mouth to apologize, but it got stuck somewhere in his throat and wouldn’t come out. It was like every time he tried to swallow his pride, he fucking choked on it.

Zoe just rolled her eyes. “I was gonna offer to just show you myself, but if you’re gonna be a dick, I’ll just keep my secrets to myself.”

“What do you mean show me? I’m not just gonna sit here and watch you do your own makeup,” he said.

“I could do it for you. I mean, I’m not great at it, but at least you’d get an idea of what it’s supposed to look like. And if you don’t like how it looks, I’ll keep the makeup and we can pretend this never happened.”

Connor thought about it for a moment, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I guess. Uh, thanks. And sorry for, um, snapping at you.”

“Whatever,” Zoe replied, but she had a small smile on her face. Almost fond. “Sit on my bed. Wait, but take your shoes off first.”

He obeyed wordlessly, feeling incredibly strange. Zoe’s room had changed a lot since they were kids. The walls that had once been covered in stickers of flowers and photos of boy band members were now decorated much more tastefully, although Harry Styles was still making an appearance. Her twin bed had been upgraded to a full-sized one, and it was in the middle of the room rather than pushed against the wall like it had once been. Her sheets were no longer Disney princess themed, but rather soft blue ones with stars on them.

As he sat down, Zoe began peeling plastic off of each makeup product: A stick of black eyeliner, and a palette of four eyeshadows, in varying shades of purple, and a tube of mascara.

“Just your eye makeup, or do you want a full glam?”

Connor furrowed his brows at her, chuckling. “Full glam? Nah, I’ll pass.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

She placed the products on the bed, then went back over to her dresser to grab a cup of brushes. “Your first mistake was thinking that the little wand this eyeshadow comes with would be enough,” she said. “You’re lucky that mom keeps buying me sets of brushes for every holiday.”

“Every holiday?”

“Every. Holiday. Three Hanukkahs in a row, two birthdays. So many brushes.”

Connor snorted. “I guess she thinks you wear ‘full glam’ every day,” he said, putting air quotes around the phrase she’d used, which made her chuckle.

She sat down on the bed beside him, her tongue poking between her teeth as she thought. “Okay, I think I’ll do your eyeshadow first…Just close your eyes and try to sit still,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, shutting his eyes as he was told, and he heard her shuffling around with the products.

After a moment, he could feel her hand hovering in front of him, and braced for impact, ever so dramatic. A somewhat flat, stiff brush touched his eyelid, and his face twitched despite his best efforts. He got it under control quickly, the sensation surprisingly easy to get used to.

“So, I’m putting the lighter color on your lid right now,” Zoe explained. “And after, I’m gonna use the darker one sort of, like, around it.”

“Sounds fancy,” he replied.

Zoe snorted, using her other hand to hold the side of his face, keeping him in place. Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to his sister, or shared this much physical contact with her. It was weird, but it somehow felt natural, still so familiar. Her fingertips were rough from guitar string scars, and her hands were steady.

He heard her switching the brush, presumably also switching the color. The heel of her hand pressed against his jaw as she continued.

The brush was much fluffier than the last, and she was doing it so lightly, it felt like an annoying itch, and he scrunched his face up on instinct.

“Stay still,” she reminded him.

He huffed, but attempted to comply. He managed to keep his composure for a bit, but as the brush stroked against his face, turning the outer corner of his left eye the striking color of artificial grape candy, the feeling turned from an annoying itch to a feather-light sensation.

Connor couldn’t help it; he giggled, turning his face away from her.

“Stop moving!” Zoe said, retracting her hand.

“I can’t help it!” he replied. “It…feels weird.”

She ignored him and attempted to continue, but when the brush touched his skin again, he giggled again.

“Does it tickle?” Zoe asked, sounding almost incredulous. “There’s no way your face is ticklish.”

He felt his cheeks turn hot, and scowled. “Shut up,” he said, knowing he had no argument that would convince her that she was wrong.

Zoe’s lips twitched.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.”

She lost it, starting to giggle herself. “I’m sorry, but it is funny.”

Normally embarrassment felt white-hot, a rage-inducing humiliation that sent him running for the hills or taking out his anger on whoever was closest, a pit in his stomach. He was expecting that feeling to surface at that moment, but all he could feel was the color in his face and Zoe’s gaze on him.

Maybe it was because there were very few things his sister hadn’t witnessed: She knew him when he was still a gap-toothed child that was afraid of bugs, or when he grew into a pre-teen with braces and a constantly cracking voice.

So, instead of freaking out, he just glared at her half-heartedly. “Whatever.”

“Are you gonna survive if I continue?” she asked, grinning.

He rolled his eyes but nodded, bracing himself for the brush to return. He managed to sit still for the rest of the process, perhaps by sheer willpower or because Zoe was using a firmer touch to spare him some dignity.

“I’m kind of terrified of poking your eye out if I do your mascara,” she said to fill the silence. “Or eyeliner. I’ve never done it on anyone else.”

“Very reassuring,” he muttered.

All the brushes were away from his face, but he kept his eyes shut in case she went back, which was apparently a mistake, as Zoe had taken his sass as a chance to poke him in the ribs, making him flinch and huff out a laugh.

“I can’t believe I forgot you were ticklish,” she said.

“Please forget again,” he replied. “And, if I remember correctly, you are too. I’m not above revenge.”

Zoe laughed. “Okay, truce. But it’s nice to see you smile again.”

The sincerity of her statement made Connor freeze up, just for a moment. He was wading into foreign territory enough, but genuine conversation was almost too much. “Uh, thanks. I think?”

“Sorry, I just—You know, it’s just been a while since…” she trailed off.

“I know.”

She nodded, twirling the eyeliner pencil between her fingers. “So, do you trust me to not blind you?”

“...Not really, but fuck it.”

It turned out that Connor really rocked the color purple, and he loved the way that black eyeliner looked on him, and Zoe offered to show him how to do it himself next time.

He left his sister’s room and walked down the hallway with a giddy feeling in his stomach, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It occurred to him that he had really missed his sister, no matter how hard he’d ignored it in the past. They still had a lot to work on, but Connor felt like something healed in them both that day, and it was all thanks to an impulsive purchase.

[amarantastopics]

Here's an instrumental I made for the version of "Good for You" I'm imagining.

I realize it doesn't sound the best.

[hollywoodoutbreak]

Performing Dear Evan Hansen live on stage for several years, Ben Platt has been able to speak directly to fans from the audience on many occasions, not to mention the ones who’ve reached out to him through other avenues, like social media. Knowing how fans of the play feel about the story and the character, Platt says he’s anxious to find out how an even larger audience responds to the film version, and he’s curious to see how the play’s fans react to the adaptation.

Click on the link to hear Ben Platt

Dear Evan Hansen is now playing in theaters.

[deh-essays]

So a certain dormant fic just got updated...

[antpelts]

It was almost like there was too much, too much that he wanted to capture all in one spot. Everything he’d seen from Jared from their years together, from their growing up together.

How could he condense everything into one picture?

been a min since i wrote a fic not as a gift.. anyways.. them

[live-laugh-lesbian80083]

La Vie en Rose Chapters

This is where you can find all the chapters to my series, La Vie en Rose!

Summary: Everything about her is perfect. Her grades, her looks, her personality, everything. Desiree Hale is known as little miss perfect all throughout middle school. But when she makes the transition from being in eighth grade to being a freshman, everything changes. Not because of the change in her surroundings, but because of a girl. A girl with gorgeous brown locks and stunning eyes to match, with a voice that sounds like an angel and a smile that could melt anyone's heart. The moment Desiree laid her eyes on the girl, she knew there was something different about herself.

1 - Don't Forget About Me

[bemorekleinman]

an extensive list of things I hate:

when people write evan hansen’s dialogue l-like t-t-this b-because h-hardly anybody a-actually talks l-like t-t-t-this when th-they get a-anxious and it’s h-h-hard to r-read ok please stop

when people make evan hansen curse in tree names because hecking SPRUCE nobody actually does that, you birches. just let evan curse please he’s a high school senior for fern’s sake don’t be weird

that’s it that’s the list

[morg-among-the-stars]

Yo this is literally the dumbest thing to think about but in old DEH fics, all Evan ever wears is the classic blue polo shirt and khaki pants getup.

My hyper-literal mind is like, “where are his other shirts?? A pair of jeans perhaps?? does he own those??”

In the fics, he’s like a damn cartoon character who wears the exact same outfit everyday no matter the circumstance lmao

[chincilla-on-the-moon]

What it’s like to date Connor Murphy:

Request: Headcanons what it’s like to date Connor?- Anon

Word Count: 430

Warning: cussing 

Authors Note: Hey yall its been a while. I have been struggling with my mental health alot for a bit but slowly but surely I've been working on making it better. No promises as to when i'll get to the other requests. Sorry about that. Here’s this short hc list that has been siting in my drafts for forever. Anyways hope you're all doing okay and have a good day/night! :) <3 

•Connor towering over you which led to him always resting his head on top of yours and wrapping his arms around your shoulders

•Him deciding to stop smoking as often because he feels like he doesn’t need to. (but if you’re down he’d totally love to smoke with you!)

•You constantly steal his shirts, sweaters and sweatshirts because they smelled like him.

•He’d also steal your clothes and actually pull them off really well

•You calling each other pet names such as babe, love, hun and many others but only over text and when you were alone because Connor didn’t want people to make fun of y’all

•Also Connor is touch starved (me too smh) so he is constantly touching you, holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, arm around your waist, literally whatever you can imagine he does. But when he does this in public he makes sure to look extra in intimidating so no one says anything about it

•He loves to kiss the top of your head/forehead

•Having cute pictures of each other as your phones lock screens but the same selfie from the night of your first date is both your homescreens

•Connor has a clear phone case and keeps a polaroid of you in it from a late night date in the orchard

•One of Connor’s favorite things is when you play with his hair and massage his scalp especially after a rough night. It always puts him right to sleep.

•Speaking of sleeping, when you and Connor cuddle it depends on your guys mood whos the big spoon and whos the little spoon, usually he's big spoon though

•After he’s had a particular bad day whether it was the assholes at school or he’s just having a bad mental day Connor loves to lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beat because it grounds him and reminds him that he’s real and so are you

•He’s poetic as shit and has an amazing way with words. He always knows what to say to make you feel better no matter your mood.

•I imagine him being such a fucking romantic person. He always plans the best dates and gives/makes you the best gifts.

•All his gifts just have a lot of thought put into them. He has a beautiful reason for whatever he does.

•He listens to a lot of music so he makes 50 million playlists for you and they always fit the vibe he’s trying to create

•In conclusion Connor is a softie who deserves all the love.

[meggtheeeegg]

Life, and School, and Everything

The sign outside tells the world that high school graduation—Zoe's graduation—is tonight. Evan Hansen knows he's not invited. Why would he be? But something about seeing that sign makes him pull over. Makes him stop and think. So many things have changed in the past year and something about that, when it's brought to mind, is too overwhelming for him to just keep on driving.

He never meant for Zoe to see him standing there.

Never meant for her to reach out to him. To want to talk.

But life doesn't always work out as planned, does it?

So here’s my TCP anniversary gift exchange fic for the lovely @thatfriendlyanon! I tried to incorporate bits and pieces of your prompt with ideas and opinions that I *casually* pried out of you (hopefully without being too obvious kjhghjk)

Hope you enjoy!

[daydreaming-everyday]

This is my gift for @itstrulyastrangerthing for the DEH Summer Gift Exchange hosted by @sincerely-us!

So I was originally going to write you a fic, but while messing around with one of your prompts I *accidently* made you a mini playlist to go with it, so you are getting both! I hope you enjoy and happy summer!

Playlist (YT Playlist Link)

1. Paradise by Coldplay

2. Silence by Marshmello and Khalid

3. Wide Awake by Katy Perry

4. She Used To Be Mine by Sara Bareilles

5. Again covered by Laura Dreyfuss and Eric William Morris

Fanfic (Ao3 link)

She stands at the shoreline, where the water and sand connect. When bystanding people walk by, they see a girl, hair covering her face, but a small smile curled on her lips. They would guess she would be enjoying the view. The sun was angled just enough so the water would still sparkle. Pastel pink, orange, and lilac highlights were blended into the sky, soft clouds scattered across it. It was beautiful.

What they don’t see are the tears rolling down her freckled cheeks.

——

Zoe found the beach when she was fifteen. She knew it existed all her life, her mother must’ve driven past it millions of times one their way to school. Zoe never knew it was a paradise though.

It was a night when Connor and Zoe got into an argument. Connor roared at his sister, spating multiple threats and comments. Zoe shouted back as loud as she could, tired of Connor and her parents not listening to her. Her screams were so powerful she could feel her inner core rumble. Cynthia broke them up. She wrapped a compassionate arm around Connor, pulling him away from the battlefield they could ‘talk it out.’

She tended to Connor first. Connor was always first. Zoe could be wounded, bleeding out, and Cynthia would still nurture Connor first.

Out of annoyance, Zoe bolted out the door.

She hadn’t walked very far when she found paradise.

The beach was empty, as it would be on a weeknight. The water was almost still, slow gentle waves washing up the shore. The sand looked fluffy, untouched almost.

The peace was calling her name.

Zoe trudged through the sand. She shivers as a gust of chilly breeze brushes past her. Zoe slips off her converse, her feet sinking into the softness of the cool evening sand.

Once she reaches the shore, she waits. A tide came crashing into the sand, frigid water wrapping around her bare ankles. She closes her eyes. Every ounce of anger she had kept inside seeps out of her body.

Zoe stays at the beach that night for hours, watching the sunset. Her parents never came looking for their invisible daughter. When the stars become visible in the night sky, Zoe knows she has to go back home. When she arrives, the house is dark and empty. She ignores whatever pity she feels as she goes up the stairs to her room.

———

The visits to the beach slowly became more frequent. It became a safeplace for Zoe. It was a place where the world would disappear, even if it was only for a couple minutes.

It was the home she never had. The soft winds would always greet her when she arrived. The sand would support her when she wanted to fall, and the small waves washed away her worries. Something her real family wouldn’t do for her.

Some days she would stroll around. If her eye caught anything, she would pick it up. It was mostly trash, but if she was lucky, she’d find different types of interesting rocks, brittle shells, and bright colored sea glass.

Some days she sat on the sand, staring into the deep blue water. Sometimes she would angrily kick rocks into the water. Sometimes she would just weep. Sometimes her mind just trailed to different places, staying into her own world.

Some days she’d see happy families. She would give them a weak smile. It would hurt to see another family happy when her’s was slowly tearing at the seams.

——

When Connor took his life, Zoe knew where she wanted to be.

“This is an important family event Zoe,” Larry explained to Zoe when she asked to leave, as if Connor’s death was a planned family trip.

Zoe knew Larry could care less if she walked out the door. It was more for Cynthia, who was weeping at the dinner table as a funeral home employee was helping them make arrangements for the funeral.

Zoe slumped in her chair, looking at the window. She couldn’t block out Cynthia’s loud sobs and Larry’s questions about the price to bury their son. She couldn’t stand to be in this house any longer, with her parents. With the reminder of her brother. Her eyes began to become glassy with overwhelmed tears.

“I’m getting fresh air,” Zoe swallowed, finally standing up.

Zoe ignored her parents' protests as she closed the door behind her. She took her time walking, kicking a pebble across the road.

She stares at the tide with a blank expression.

For years she wished Connor would go away. It was a death wish. Now he was gone.

Zoe ignores the guilt creeping onto her. There was no way she was going to feel guilty for wishing he was gone. Not after everything he’s put her through

A wave splashes her legs as she decides she’s not going to continue to pretend to mourn him.

———

There was a period when she stopped going to the beach, when Evan walked into her life .

She only went three times.

The first was when she stormed out of her living room, papers crumbling in her hands. She sat on the sand as she read through the emails millions of times. None of the emails made sense. She couldn’t believe that Connor said any of this. Until she realizes that maybe she doesn’t want to believe.

The second is when Evan kissed her for the first time. She didn’t understand why he did it, and was annoyed with him. A small part of her felt delighted. She blamed Evan’s actions on grief.

The third was the night before the Connor Memorial Assembly. She took Evan with her this time though.

“Are you scared for tomorrow?” She asks him as they sit on the tide.

Evan’s eyes widened, “Um… would it be bad if I said yes?”

Zoe shakes her head. They continued to stare at the glistening water.

“I would too. Be scared of talking in front of the school.”

Evan nods quickly.

“My mom is obsessed with the Connor Project,” Zoe explains, “she’s obsessed with you.”

Evan scratches the back of his head uncomfortably, chuckling nervously, “She’s awesome.”

“She likes you being around,” Zoe explains, “it’s like you bring Connor with you everywhere you go. But… not how we remember him…”

How she remembers Connor is her wrathful brother who only caused destruction. Evan brought a different story. A story that showed another side to Connor. A side Zoe wished she knew. It made Zoe want to forgive Connor.

“... but better.”

———

The night Evan confesses that he lied, she ran out the door.

Zoe naturally sprints to the beach.

Her lungs and legs burn when she arrives.

When she reaches the shore, she collapses onto her hands and knees. A harsh sob escapes her dry throat. Warm, heavy tears spill out her eyes.

Rage ignited inside her. She couldn’t stand the thought of Evan or Connor. She was starting to forgive her brother. She began to believe he was a good person.

Zoe didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Zoe!”

Larry and Cynthia rush to their daughter’s side.

“We’d been looking everywhere for you…” Cynthia trails off when she sees her eyes puffy and red.

“Zoe?” Larry rests a hand on her back.

Zoe shoves her face into Larry’s polyester shirt, beginning to sob violently. Larry and Cynthia exchange worried glances.

All of the pain over the years comes falling through bullet’s onto Larry’s shirt.

“Oh Zoe!” Cynthia wraps her arms around her daughter.

Zoe flinches away, “Oh my god what am I doing?”

She stands up, brushing the sand off her jeans. She hadn’t had her parents comfort for years, and they now only did it because Connor wasn’t there.

She begins to let out a watery laugh. Fucking Connor. He was gone, but he was still ruling her life.

“Zoe, what the hell?” Larry finally says, grabbing her shoulders.

“You are only doing this because Connor isn’t here,” Zoe giggles, tears ripping out of her eyes.

“Of course we aren’t-” Cynthia begins, but Zoe interrupts her.

“Really? Where was this comfort all these years?”

Zoe couldn’t stop laughing. Her chest tightened, her lungs feeling deflated.

“When Connor had an outburst, you never checked if I was okay!” Zoe shouted, “and it hurt, okay? I hurt! I hurt so, so much…”

Zoe trembled. She doesn’t dare to look at Larry or Cynthia.

When she does, Zoe is not surprised to see Cynthia crying. What surprised her? Larry had a tear dripping down his face.

“Honey… I…” Cynthia sniffled, “I’m so sorry… you have to feel that way.”

“Zoe… I know we aren’t the best parents,” Larry begins.

Understatement of the year is what Zoe wants to say. Instead, she listens to him.

“... Connor was…”

“Problematic?”

“Well, I was going to say ‘different,” Larry continues, “but… he took all of our attention. He was-”

“More important, I know, I’ve heard this conversation a million times,” Zoe says, wiping her checks.

She recalls when Larry and Cynthia never showed up to her band concerts and school events like award ceremonies. And it was all because of Connor needing to be watched by Cynthia in order for him to not kill himself. It was all because Connor needed to be disciplined by Larry and he had to watch him to make sure he never snuck out. It was all about Connor.

Larry stays silent. He knows she’s true. All they can hear is the swooshing of the tides and Cynthia’s shaky breaths.

“... that doesn’t make you any less,” Larry continues, “and we want to try again as parents. Start over, but only if you let us Zoe.”

Zoe contemplated her decision. This could be what she wanted for years. A normal family, a normal life. Parents who actually cared enough about their daughter. Zoe finally nods. She feels their arms wrap around her pulling her into a hug. She relaxes in their embrace, beginning to feel exhausted, yet accomplished. This is all she craved for years. Now it was all sinking in…

A wave interrupted the unsuspecting family. They all yelped as their clothes soaked up the cold water. Zoe laughs with her parents for the first time in years. It was all she ever dreamed of.

——

One Year Later

Zoe is in a state of nirvana. She keeps her eyes closed as the wind blows through her hair. She was relaxed. She was balanced.

“Hey.”

The small gentle voice startled her. She quickly opens her eyes and turns around. Evan stood awkwardly behind her.

She gives him a small smile, “Hey.”

He stands a couple feet away from her, a heavy tension in between them. Zoe pats the sand next to her, motioning him to sit by her. Evan kicks his shoes off,

“How are you?” Evan breaks the silence.

Zoe shrugs, “Good.”

“You graduate soon, right?”

Zoe nods, “In two weeks.”

“Wow,” Evan sighs, “so um… how’s being a senior?”

“Busy.”

Evan notes, “I remember that.”

The conversation stops for a moment.

“How’s being a freshman?” Zoe asks.

Evan’s eyebrow rises with confusion. Then his eyes widened, realizing what she said.

“Oh! Well I actually decided to take a year off…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, try to save some money, get a job. I have been taking some classes at the community college though so I’ll have credits to transfer.”

“That’s smart.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Evan mutters. Zoe arches an eyebrow.

“In the meantime though I can get you a friends and family discount at Pottery Barn if you're looking for… overpriced home decor.”

Zoe exchanges a giggle, “You know, not at the moment.”

“Well if you change your mind, I’m only working there for a few more months so the window of opportunity is closing fast,” Evan smiled at her.

They are silent for a while. The sound of sloshing water filled their ears. The sun radiated a wave of heat onto them, filling when with warmth.

“I can see why you like it so much here,” Evan comments.

“I’ve always imagined you and Connor here,” Zoe blurts out, “even though… obviously.”

Evan audibly winces, and Zoe worries she’s struck a chord.

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask…” Evan begins to ask, “why didn’t your parents… why didn’t you tell everyone about who really wrote Connor’s note?”

Zoe turns her direction to the water, and thinks. Without Evan’s note, she may have not have gained a better relationship with her parents. Without Evan’s note, the Connor Memorial Orchard would have not opened. The Connor Project would have never saved thousands of people across the world who were losing hope.

Without the note, Zoe may have not learned to forgive. Not only Evan, but her brother and parents.

“Everyone needed it for something,” Zoe says, hushed.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“It saved my parents. It saved me.”

Evan stays silent. Without thought, Zoe grabs his hand, fiddling it until it finally fits right in hers. Evan blushes.

“Um… over the fall I found this yearbook thing my class made in eighth grade. Most people did collages of their friends, but Connor’s was a list of his ten favorite books. I’ve been trying to read them all,” Evan states, “I know it’s not the same as knowing him but… I don’t know, it's…”

“Something,” Zoe finishes his sentence.

She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs, “It’s been hard… it’s been a hard year.”

“I know,” Evan agrees, wrapping his arm around her, “I’ve been wanting to call you for a long time. I didn’t really know what I would say but then… I just decided to call you anyways.”

Zoe remembers seeing his contact (she can’t explain why she never deleted it) show up on her phone while having a picnic with her parents. She excused herself and answered. It was relieving to hear

“I’m happy you did.”

“I wish we could’ve met now,” Evan admits, “Today. For the first time.”

“Me too.”

Zoe looks up at him, staring into his eyes. When her eyes trail down to his lips, she holds her breath, already knowing what’s going to happen. Their lips crash. A wave of euphoria washes over them. All the good memories of their relationship flooded into her mind. Their loving kisses, the few dates they had, everything.

“Um… I should go,” Zoe says, breaking apart.

“Oh! Of course!.”

Zoe stands up, “It’s just… finals are coming up.”

Evan nods, “No, no, no totally.”

Zoe gives him another smile as she begins to trail away. It did feel reliving to kiss him again. The past year, she grew to miss his presence. It became a struggle to forget him, and to forget whatever they ignited.

Eventually she decided she couldn’t forget Evan, or even Connor. You could only move on.

Before Zoe leaves, she looks around the beach one more time. It was just like she found it. Soft sand, shimmering water, tame winds, and one pastel colored sky.

She almost wants to thank the paradise.

[help-ev-up]

Chapters: 10/?

Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy. The school weirdos. At least, that's how they see themselves. What they see in each other, is entirely different.

OR

Connor and Evan become friends. Pining and chaos ensues.

chapter 10 is upp go check it out :)))

[rogah-wrote-gaga]

Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy. The school weirdos. At least, that's how they saw themselves. What they see in each other, is entirely different.

i am very aware i havent used this account in a while. i will be active on my new account @ineffably-falling so please reblog, giv eme a follow, and check out this fic!!!1