Chapter Text
To be cliché, it all started around a year ago.
The year Jared Kleinman was introduced to Evan Hansen. Of course, Jared didn't want to open up and get attached to some sweaty, stuttering kid -all he wanted to do was flip him off and go play video games by himself. However, his parents told him that if he hung out with at least one person -and this specific kid- they would pay for his car insurance. That was an unusual offer for them, as it was a big deal, so he had to comply.
The first couple of months (five and a half, to be exact) Jared resented him. He was the biggest asshole to the poor guy. He rarely spoke to him, but when he did his tone was snarky, sometimes even commanding. He was harshly criticizing to the polo-clad, made fun of any of his interests or anything he said -especially if he stuttered. He took advantage of anything in his house, didn't even ask if he could take certain things. Of course, Evan just nodded along, he rarely protested, too afraid to. As soon as Heidi Hanson, Evan's mom came home or walked into the room, Jared would just smile and act as if he and her son were the best of friends.
But all that douche-baggery did the opposite of what Jared wanted. He wanted the attitude to create reasons for him to hate Evan, to make sure that no connections would be made. To put a steel wall around his heart and stop anyone from getting in or any feelings to form.
What could he say? He had issues.
But all it really did was make him feel guilty. Incredibly guilty. It made him want to actually talk to Evan. Not in an asshole, snarky way -but in a legitimate, kind of friend way. He actually wanted to apologize to him.
He hated it.
And he hated himself, even more than before.
He began hating himself even more when he began to soften; ease up on Evan.
The tree loving bastard seriously didn't deserve the treatment he was receiving from his supposed "only friend".
Jared may be a master dick, but that didn't mean he wasn't observant.
He noticed how delicate Evan was, how any sentence could send him reeling into a panic attack. His anxiety was hardcore and Jared would not be the cause of any sort of thing like that. He knew he was a terrible person, but he never wanted to be terrible enough to cause panic attacks.
To do that is pure evil.
So Jared began to be (slightly) nicer to Evan; because he knew he could handle any betrayal or heartbreak if it was from Evan. Besides, they were barely close so it wouldn't really affect in any way. He would still keep his defenses though; just in case. He could go back to being Douchebag Numero Uno.
Big mistake, he told himself. A month and a week after getting to the status of "kind-of-friends-not-really" and actually not ignoring or bickering/hating each other (well, just Jared did all that. Evan never did a thing to wrong Jared.), Jared caught himself blushing slightly when Heidi Hansen called to ask him to hang out with her son.
God, he wanted to shoot himself.
He dismissed every instance of it, pissed at the thought that Evan Hansen -the boy who would fuck a tree if he had the confidence to even flirt with one- made it past all his now useless defenses. It only got worse. He had to spend more time with Evan after Heidi had to take up even more shifts at work, and his stupid heart would gladly take every chance it could to beat faster for that boy.
Convenient, right?
And then it actually started.
Jared was at Evan's house (what else was new) and they were hanging out in the living room. Heidi was at work, so Evan had the courage to migrate with his kind-of-friend downstairs. It was late at night -Jared would probably leave once Heidi got back -and they were watching a stupid TV show: "Say Yes To the Dress." Evan loved it, and Jared was sworn to never tell anyone about it. The polo-clad boy was sitting on the floor, crisscross-applesauce style, while Jared was sprawled on the couch. A sigh flew from Evan's lips and he leaned back against a foot rest.
"I wonder what it's like to pick out a-a dress...or something for such, uh, for such an important event in your life." His voice was soft, distant and dreamy-like, cluing that some lenient, painted star sprinkled dream was draped over his eyes. He continued, "I-it must be really, uh, exciting but s-scary and nerve-wracking at the same time." Jared scoffed lightly.
"What? Marriage? Of course it's all that; you could be stuck with that one person for almost twenty-four seven. You might end up hating each other. That'll make it hella awkward for literally everyone you know." Evan, who had turned to face him while Jared was talking, frowned. He opened his mouth for a second, contemplating on saying something, and his fingers started to twitch.
"I-I like to think of it as, uh, having a s-sleepover with your best friend every day, or something like t-that." A light blush spread over his cheeks as he spoke, embarrassment obvious in his downcast eyes. Jared's cheeks began to heat up as well, his mind throwing images and whispers of his stupid-ass feelings based off of Evan's cute-ass description of marriage. Guilt flooded his mind for his douchebag back-talk of marriage; but reassurance came from his defenses.
You have to keep being an asshole, more so than occasionally, so he knows that you actually are an asshole and therefore you won't grow any closer, and then nothing bad will happen to either of you. You know what you're doing and you know how to keep these stupid emotions on low. You're only holding up one part of the act, now do the other too.
Still, his mind was imagining that concept -what Evan would look like in a tux, what it would be like to spend all day every day with him, cook things with and for him, tell jokes, cuddle...
"As stupid as it sounds, I a-actually can't w-wait for the day I g-get to marry the...the girl I love." Jared's stupid fantasy came crashing down around him. He was grabbed by the ankle, punctured in the collarbone, and slapped with a block of ice back into reality.
Evan likes girls, confirmed.
Jared's heart sank, falling into a pit where it was shred to pieces by the real world.
Evan was straight, and normal -while he was a freak, a fag who was creepily crushing on his friend.
Were they even friends? No, or course not.
So now he was even creepier.
Jared forced himself to laugh, say something. Words flew off his lips but he didn't even know what they were.
An itching began in his throat; light and barely there, like a feather being waved over a dish of water. It grew, beginning to feel like a tiny claw was in his throat, poking with sharp fingers, raking down the sides. Little pinpoints jabbing lightly in just the right-but wrong-place. He tried to ignore it, swallowing a little in hopes that the rush of saliva would wipe it away, drown away the small claws. It didn't work. The sensation grew harsher and climbed to cover the entirety of his esophagus.
"H-hey, Ev, I'm gonna run to the bathroom." His voice was wavering, making Jared inwardly curse at himself. Before the other boy could respond, Jared was already up from the couch and nearly dashing to the first floor bathroom.
He threw his back against the door as soon as he made it in the small room, and the scratching nearly exploded out, cascading out his mouth in a rush of jagged butterflies. A cough wracked his body, rough and choking, each cough tearing at the walls of his throat. He couldn't stop. He couldn't breathe.
It felt like he was coughing up his large intestine but through the method of coughing. His eyes were scrunched up tightly in pain, tears welling up in them. He had crippled over in his fit, now on the floor, a hand cupped over his mouth. Abruptly, the itching ceased, and his cough did as well. A silence wafted through the bathroom, and Jared sat there, small tears still dotting his eyes, a hand still cupped to his mouth. He began almost gulping air, too focused on actually breathing for once to feel something fall from his mouth into his hand. His breathing slowed, and he pulled his hand away from his face, a string of saliva clinging to the edge of his palm and lips like a forgotten string of silk. His eyes caught onto a slip of an object in his hand and his body finally registered that there was something there.
It was a petal. A couple, actually. They were soft, delicate. They had a slight dent in the of them, causing them to curl upwards, the end of them barely touching Jared's skin. The top, or end of the petal, really, was naturally carved to have two points, a dip between both of the soft tips. There were faint lines, tiny little dents in the felt of the petal. There was some saliva dribbled across them, causing a thin, grey to splotch onto the creamy white of the petal. There were some barely noticeable, tiny, speckles, of thick dark red liquid dotted over a couple of the velvety petals. A slight stream of fear poured through the boy's body. He was feeling too faint to actually indulge in the fear, though, so he just stared blankly. He sat in an empty silence, simply staring at his hand.
There were fucking petals in his hand.
That totally weren't there before.
That he basically threw up.
He threw up fucking parts of a flower.
At last it registered in his mind.
A scream jumped out of Jared's mouth and he jerked back, hitting his head against the door and throwing the flower petals away from him. His right hand fell beside him, landing in something wet. Instinctively, he jerked his hand back and cast his eyes on it to check what it was.
Red.
Blood.
So he coughed up flowers and blood.
Fucking great.
He was even more of a freak now.
Abruptly his stomach lurched and his throat burned, causing Jared to keel over, hot iron coughs wracking his body once more. Something was caught in his throat and all he could focus on was getting it out and getting it out now. It hurt, it felt like a metal hair brush was being stroked down his throat, a frosted iron poker forcing itself between his intestines and piercing past them, a heavy-duty frying pan being slammed against his head. Cloud kissed tears slipped past his eyes, trailing down his sunset-stroked cheeks and falling onto the cool floor. A small flood poured from his mouth and splattered against the tile.
Oh god he was throwing up.
A thick dizziness enveloped Jared's mind, and he gradually opened his eyes -wincing slightly at the thought of having to look at vomit. Below him, instead of a lump of liquid-solid mixture with strange colors and foreign chunks in it, was a small pile of petals, maybe a whole flower or two mixed in with the rest. Jared's mind was blank. He just stared at the pile of innocent, blood-splattered, saliva dribbled, heavenly white petals.
Time no longer existed, his limbs were filled with wet sand. All he could hear was a distant ringing; possibly the hum of the house's air conditioner, too. Eventually his arms couldn't withstand all of his weight and fell out beneath him. He shakily stood up, eyes still glued to the flowers. He felt numb. He scooped the tiny pile up, ignoring the feeling of the bubbly saliva quickly running down onto his wrist, and the cool blood dripping onto his arm, and dumped them in the trash bin. He lazily dropped some toilet paper over it, so no once could hopefully see it. Jared stumbled out of the bathroom, that distant and heavy void spilling over his body.
He peeked around the corner into the living room, seeing Evan still sitting there.
Shit.
He could either walk in and pretend everything was fine, or make up an excuse to go home. As much as he loved staying in the Hansens' house, he never wanted to bolt out and shut himself in his room more than ever.
So, lying it was.
Jared swallowed, ignoring the slight burn, and stepped out from behind the corner.
"Hey, Ev," He began, cursing himself for his supposedly shaking voice. "I'm not feeling too hot right now, despite my appearance, and as much as I would love to see which ugly dress Brooke chooses for her white-ass wedding, I think I should go." That sounded good enough. Could work on the suave, though. Evan's face fell slightly, probably thinking that it was something that he did, and he drew his knees closer to his body. He nodded, though.
"O-okay...f-feel better, I guess." He mumbled. Jared forced himself to smile and wave as he began to move towards the hallway leading to the front door.
"I totally will once I'm done fucking your mom!" He called over his shoulder. Nice, Jared, real fucking nice. A laugh, with an accent of bitterness, pried itself out from between his lips at Evan's stunned and disgusted protest.
As the front door closed behind him, a sky bitten tear began to slip from Jared's eyes and he forced himself to swallow a petal.