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Troy closes his eyes and tries to recall the meditation video Annie had sent him that morning. He takes a deep breath. And another. And one more for good measure. He opens his eyes slowly, somehow feeling more centered and a bit off kilter at the same time as he stares at his own reflection in the mirror in front of him.
He hears the door open behind him and turns in his chair to see a man holding a giant bouquet of flowers where his head should be. He smiles at the daisies, scrambling to get out of the make-up chair to approach his boyfriend.
“Aw, you remembered my favorite flowers.” Troy takes the bouquet and admires them for a moment before leaning in to peck Abed on the cheek. “Thanks, babe.”
“You’re welcome. What’s wrong?”
Troy freezes for a split second, feels his eyes widen, before he gets his face under control. He feigns looking around for a vase even though they both know the daisies will remain on his dressing table until the end of the show. He purposefully avoids Abed trying to make eye contact.
“Nothing. Just nerves, y’know? It’s fine.” He ends up in front of his mirror again and catches a glimpse of Abed’s slightly furrowed brow. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes another deep breath.
“It’s just… there’s important people out there tonight. What if I make a mistake and they don’t want me anymore? What if I mess up in front of everyone or I forget the whole routine or break a bone, I won’t be able to dance and I’ll have to start over again, there goes my whole future again, and I—”
Troy’s eyes fly open as he gasps and cuts off the rest of his worries when he feels Abed’s arms wrap around him, his chest firmly against his back. Abed squeezes him hard. Troy sighs, then turns in his boyfriend’s embrace to bury his face into his neck and breathe him in.
“Is this too much pressure? I can loosen it.”
“No,” Troy mumbles against Abed’s pulse point. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Okay, good.” Abed gives him a quick squeeze and waits a moment before starting again. “You know it’s fine to be nervous, right? Nerves are a good thing. It means you care.”
“Yeah, but it feels extra scary this time. This is important. What if I mess it up?” Troy pulls back to speak clearly, but still doesn’t make eye contact. He fiddles with the collar of Abed’s shirt. He waits a beat for Abed to respond. When he doesn’t, he finally lifts his eyes to catch his gaze.
Abed’s brow is furrowed again, and the right corner of his mouth is slightly turned down. “Then you mess up. But what matters is how you recover. Troy, you’re the most resilient man I know. You knew you didn’t want to play football and you figured it out, you came to Greendale. You sang to a mouse to help me find it even though you were so scared.”
Troy lets out an indignant squeak. “I wasn’t scared! It’s not my fault they’re so unpopul—” he gets muffled again when Abed places his hand over his mouth.
“It’s okay to be scared. But it’s not okay to let fear stop you from doing what you love. You love dancing, Troy. Go out there and dance.”
The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door and a frazzled looking student poking their head into the dressing room. “Troy! You’re on in 5.”
Troy thanks her as she leaves. His hands clutch at his hair, and starts pacing. “Fuck. This is happening.”
“Troy,” Abed catches him by the elbow and brings him to stand in front of him. He makes sure to establish eye contact, and honestly, Troy forgets sometimes how easy it is to melt under the force of them. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here.”
Somehow, hearing the conviction in his boyfriend’s tone bolsters his own. “Promise? You won’t leave the side stage?”
“Of course I won’t. I’ll be right there the entire time, screaming the loudest.”
Troy feels the tension leave his shoulders and spine. He reaches up to wrap his arms around Abed’s neck for another hug.
“Besides, worst comes to worst, you can always take up AC repair.”
Troy throws himself back out of the embrace, clicking his tongue, and rolling his eyes at that statement. Abed is looking back at him, the corner of his mouth quirked up, sly and teasing.
“I guess there’s always that, if you don’t mind me being away for all those long hours,” Troy teases back. Abed’s face immediately goes blank in disapproval.
Before he can reassure him, the stage manager from before throws the door open, gesticulating wildly at Troy to get on stage.
Abed and Troy share a brief look before scrambling out of the dressing room. Troy skids onto the stage into position and chances a quick glance to the sidelines.
Abed gives him a thumbs up and a big grin. Troy smiles back and takes his starting stance.
The curtain rises.