Troye's POV

September 2015, Troye is now 24.

I carry the freshly baked tray of chocolate chip muffins out into the front of the bakery, carefully sliding them into the glass display case. I slide the little door on it shut, looking up as the front door of the store opened. In came two boys, one short with blond hair, and the other tall with black hair. I wonder how long they've been dating for..

The blond boy stops me just as I am about to slip back into the back room. "Can I help you?" I mutter, not looking into his eyes. Connor wouldn't like it if I were to look into the mans eyes for too long.

"Are those good?" He pointed to the fresh batch of chocolate chip muffins. I tiredly nod, still not fully awake. Maybe if I were to eat properly I wouldn't be so.. tired. But Connor told me that I've recently let myself go, so I need to lose a few pounds to please him. Maybe if I were more skinny and attractive he'd love me the same way he used to when we first met..

"Yeah. You want one or not?"

"What do you think, Kore?" He looks to the taller man, an uneasy look on his face.

"Do you have blueberry? Chocolate upsets my stomach." The taller man asks, making me want to slap him across the face with a rolling pin. I don't usually handle the customers, but Tyde is late for work today. You think he'd be eager to keep his newly obtained job..

"Shut up." The shorter man slapped the taller ones chest, stepping in front of him.

"Yeah, we have blueberry. They're freshly baked, I just haven't brought them up here yet." I glance behind me to see Tyde coming through the baking room doors with a tray of muffins on his shoulder. They just-so happened to be the blueberry ones I was talking about a moment ago.

"Took you long enough," I huff, reaching into my apron to grab a pair of metal tongs. I grab one chocolate chip and one blueberry, placing them into separate paper bags.

"Sorry, I woke up late." I pat him on the shoulder in understanding, leaving him to ring up the couple.

I make my way into the storage room, sitting down on a large crate. My sleeve rode up and I quickly pulled it back down, my eyes searching the deserted room for prying eyes. Nobody was there so I buried my head in my hands. Connor is leaving town tonight to photograph some male-model in the next town over and I'll be left home all by myself.

It's not that I'll miss him dearly- no, I'm just scared. I'm scared for how he'll act when he gets back, I'm scared about him cheating again, and I'm pretty fucking terrified about getting robbed. Crime Isn't unheard of in this area of town, especially during this time of the year. There'll be an even greater chance of me getting robbed during October when it's Halloween time and everyone can disguise their faces with costumes and masks.

"Troye,"

I look up to see Connor standing in front of me with crossed arms and a pointed glare. That defiantly wasn't the first time he's addressed me since coming in here.

Shit.

"W-Why are you here? I thought you- you had work today?"

"Don't you fucking play dumb, Troye. Are you embarrassed to be seen with me or something?"

"What? No, I was just.. I was just wondering why you came here." I take a shuddering breath, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Connor narrows his eyes at me. "I'm leaving town and thought I'd say goodbye first." He grabbed my wrist, yanking me up into a standing position. That stings like hell. I wince, trying my hardest to cover it up with a yawn.

"Troye, baby, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He frowned, loosening his death grip on my wrist.

"Kinda?.." I say, confused by his sudden change in heart.

"Don't open the door to anyone."

"Not even my family?" I raise an eyebrow in question.

"You know what I mean." He grumbles. "I love you, baby." He leaned in, capturing my lips in the softest, most delicate kiss you could imagine.

We pull apart, his arms tightening around my waist. I close my eyes and savor this short moment of affection and content until reality comes crashing down on me. He's going to take back his words any minute when I somehow fuck things up.

"Troye," he seethed, clawing at my back. "Don't open the door. There's a lot of crime nowadays."

"Yeah," I nod into his chest. "I love you too." I peck his lips once more before walking back into the baking area to wash my hands. He followed, coming up behind me. I felt his lips brush against my ear.

"I won't be back 'till Tuesday. Lock every lock on the door and don't allow anyone in the apartment."

"Why not?"

"It's not safe. All I need to do is keep you safe, baby."

Hard to believe, considering everything you've done to me.

I hum in response, moving to put on a pair of thin, latex gloves.

"Goodbye, Troye." I don't answer him, simply keeping my head down and walking over to the cookie baking area.

It's now really late in the evening and I'm home alone, the crackle of thunder and lighting giving me the chills. The thought about someone breaking in scares me so bad that I find myself getting off the couch to make sure I locked all six of the locks on my apartments door. They were indeed locked so I fell back down to the couch, cuddling up to my fuzzy, black blanket.

My thoughts begin to drift and I find myself staring at the scissors that rest atop my nearby desk. I turn over to face the couch, tightly closing my eyes.

I don't need it.

Push the thoughts away just like you push food away.

Don't give into your de- the doorbell rung, bringing me out of my thoughts. Connor told me not to open the door to anyone, but what if it's one of my family members?.. Before I can stop myself I'm at the door unlocking all six locks without checking the peephole. The door flings open to reveal the same young man from the bakery- the one who bought the chocolate chip muffin.

"A-Are you T-Troye M-Mellet?" He shivered, adjusting the hood of his jacket while reading the small slip of paper in his hand. A receipt. I just now noticed the pizza in his hands.

I did not order a pizza. This could be one big ploy to rape and kill me. I can't let him in my house or anywhere near me. He could be stalking me. What if he followed me home from work?

"I didn't order a pizza."

And even if I did I wouldn't eat it.

I begin to shut the door until he stops me. "Wait! A man named Connor called the order in, maybe it's for him?.. He asked me to bring it to a Troye."

Something within tells me to believe him and accept the pizza, but the rational part of me tells me to slam the door in his face and lock all the doors and windows. I swallow harshly, looking past his head and at the intense storm behind him.

"There's no Connor here. Sorry." I slowly shut the door until I can no longer see his sad face. Do 'pizza delivery men' still get paid if they don't successfully deliver a pizza?.. If that really was a pizza, of course. If he was legit then I hope Connor paid with a credit card. I lock the door, watching him through the peephole.

He slumps over, making his way over to my dumpster at the end of the row of apartments. He throws the pizza away, trudging through three inches of rain to get back to his car. He turns the engine on, slowly driving away.

I almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

My phone rings and I search my bed for the damned thing.

"Hey?.." I answer without checking the caller ID.

"Hey, babe. Did you get the pizza I ordered for you?" My eyes widen comically and I immediately feel bad about what happened a couple hours ago.

"Y-Yeah.. The pineapple was really good with the ham." I lie.

"But I ordered you a plain cheese pizza.."

"Oh, you know those dumb college drop-outs. They can't get anything right."

"I should file a complaint." He huffs.

"No! Um, I'll do it."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Love you." I rush my words, wanting nothing more than to stop spreading lies and apologize to the poor pizza delivery man for being so rude and slamming the door shut in his sad face.

"Lo-" I hang up, pressing my phone to my chest as I breathe heavily.

"Shit!" I continuously mutter the word over and over again- almost like a mantra.

I fucked up.

I fucked up real bad.

The guilt hit me so hard to the point where I found myself rolling down my sleeve and picking at the fresh scabs, trying to reopen old wounds without using a blade and making myself feel even guiltier than I already do.

~

A/N

I hope I'm not rushing anything.. Hehe, soo... That was the first chapter, thoughts on it?? In case anyone was confused, theres time skips and the phone call with Connor was around two hours after the whole pizza delivery man.

Bye|Rachel.

Twitter|@Troylerflamingo