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Evan crept up the stairs to the second floor of the Murphys' house. His heart pounded against his chest as his legs climbed, his hand sliding against the wooden banister lining their stairwell's walls. His hand gripped around it lightly, his sweaty fingers pressing against its cool surface.
This was, almost, the worst thing Evan had ever had to do. Some fancy dinner party with his mom's country club friends that she was too poor to have. It was evident they didn't fit in here, no body really wanted them around. His mother got lucky, being friends with the Kleinmans. Evan himself couldn't relate.
The dining room felt stuffy and suffocating, like he was being hydraulically pressed into cube form with every other person sitting at that table. The table, not to mention, was entirely too big in Evan's opinion. That was the table they used every night for dinner? Seemed awful.
Evan asked for the bathroom, just for somewhere to breathe. Someone was in the one downstairs, Cyntia Murphy redirected him to the one upstairs. That was better. No one would knock on the door, telling him to hurry up.
The only issue was, in the midst of his grand escape, Evan hadn't exactly remembered which door he was told to open to find said bathroom. He subconsciously told himself that he would be fine. He had been in a house before, he had opened doors a million times. This wasn't a challenge. There couldn't even be that many to go through.
Evan quickly found himself faced with the end of a long corridor, various rooms lining either side of the hallway. Shit. Anxiety felt thick in Evan's throat as he continued on, digging into his brain to dissect it in hopes of hearing Mrs. Murphy's words again. It was on the left, he knew that.
Nothing else came to him. He swallowed back his worries. Everyone was downstairs anyway, right? If it was the wrong room, he'd just try the one next to it. This wasn't a big deal. He was fine. Everything was fine.
Four doors lined either side of the hall in front of him, one at the end, nine in total. Christ, did they have enough room for all their things? Did they even manage to fill all the space? Probably not. Something about the left side felt correct to Evan. He brought a shaky hand up to the first handle, turning it slowly.
The door revealed a large master bedroom. A nice overhead light fixture, a loveseat couch in the corner, a vanity next to the walk-in closet. Evan almost grimaced at the size. His mom’s room looked nothing like this. He spotted the entrance to what he assumed was the master bathroom. But clearly, they weren’t intending for him to snoop into their room and then sit in their bathroom.
Evan backed out of the room, quickly closing the door quietly behind him. He tried the next room over, trying to peek through the already slightly ajar door. A linen closet is what he found. Clearly, this was not a bathroom. Another room, something that was, again, not a bathroom. The wooden flooring was lined with mats. Workout equipment stacked neatly on racks. Jesus Christ, how much money did these people have?!
Another door closed, another opened. Zoe Murphy's bedroom. Evan's palms began to sweat as he panicked. Definitely wrong. Oh God. What if Zoe found out he'd accidentally opened the door to her room? Where the hell was this bathroom?? He closed the door with more force than intended. He glanced to the the room at the end of the hall.
His own room was at the end of a hall. Surely, it would be another bedroom. Another bedroom for another family member. Evan couldn't consciously allow himself to invade another person's personal space. He'd already snuck around the Murphy estate for way too long.
A bathroom. His odds were low that he'd open it on this next try, nearly improbable. Technically a one out of six chance, approximately a 16.67% chance of finding this bathroom on the first try. He already ruled out one door, so now it was a 20% chance. That was better, more likely.
Evan had been standing there frozen, looking like an idiot. Did the Murphys have cameras? Surely not, that would be absurd. He couldn't count on it, though, rich people were weird.
Getting back to the task at hand. He should've found it already. This was taking way too long, and now he'd have only a few minutes to sit in the bathroom instead of ten. Ten minutes was the time he allotted for himself to sit in a bathroom to calm himself down. With ten minutes, people usually assumed you had to take a shit. Which was gross, but it was better than crying and hyperventilating in front of everyone.
If he was gone for longer than ten minutes, people would start to notice. Well, in a setting like this anyway. Now there was an empty seat at the table that would remain vacant until he returned. He also couldn't get away with more than ten minutes at school either because there was always someone looking to go next. He had to be considerate of others in that regard because you never know if they're also trying to cry, or if they drank too much water after gym. Or maybe if the cafeteria food didn't sit right with them.
He'd been looking for only three minutes, but it felt like twenty. Okay, he could waste another two and then try to calm himself down in five. Not ideal, but spending three minutes wandering around the second floor of their ginormous house was embarrassing enough.
Evan clenched his hands into fists, trying to squeeze out any tension he could, if at all possible. Another handle. He pressed down on it, the door creaked open. He had to hold back a sigh of frustration. This was a library. A beautiful one at that, but there wasn't a toilet nor sink in here. Evan allowed himself to take in the enclosed room adorned with shelves and bookcases made of mahogany wood. The details in the wood almost looked hand-carved.
A window at the opposite side of the room was letting in golden light from the setting sun outside, dust floating through its rays. Most books on the shelf looked like they hadn't been touched in ages. Evan wasn't exactly a bookworm himself, but he found it strange to have such a nice room go to waste. Why wasn't anyone using it? Even the seating area looked like it was forming a thin layer of dust on it.
He was more reluctant to back away from this one, wishing he could've gotten to just step in a little further. But what about the cameras they probably didn't have? Or his timed and very close to running out bathroom break?? He'd have to reminisce on it later, maybe ask Mrs. Murphy if she ever got close enough to Evan's mom. Or if he ever got close to Zoe...
Evan's face flashed with embarrassment on top of his racing heart. Was he stupid? Where was this bathroom? They had to have more than one, right? The house was huge. He sighed in frustration, pushing the next door open with more force. Nope. An office. Probably Mr. Murphy's, at that. Evan was certain it was a very nice office just like the rest of the house, but he chose not to dwell.
Two more doors, three if he counted the one he ruled out. Maybe he should've done that. God, he looked like an idiot. His hands were already sweaty, his face was flushed, and now his back was beginning to feel damp. This was not ideal. Now he'd have to wash up instead of sitting there and breathing. Jesus Christ.
He creaked open yet another door, holding his breath. A guest room. Or at least, a very bland bedroom if it belonged to anyone in the family. This was absurd. No one needed a house this big, not for three people. Okay, now there were two options. The door he was currently standing in front of like a moron, or the one he'd skipped at the end of the hall because he thought he could outsmart a building.
He really should've tried the last one. He shouldn't have walked down to the end of the hall. And he certainly shouldn't have rushed inside with certainty of it being correct. But he had, and now he was standing with his back against the closed door of Connor Murphy's bedroom.
How the hell did he manage to forget Connor existed? Maybe he had subconsciously thought he wasn't home? Connor didn't come down to eat, it could've just slipped Evan's mind... Or maybe he purposefully avoided Connor at school and never even thought of him unless he heard another story or rumor about him through people in his classes.
Whatever the reason was, Evan wished it hadn't ever happened. Why would he second-guess the system? He had outsmarted a building! It must have used some kind of reverse psychology on him. He'd been on the second floor so long the oxygen levels were depleting because it was so high up. Or maybe he was just stupid.
"Are you stupid?!" Connor barked at him aggressively.
Yes. Great, problem solved. He wasn't tricked, he was just stupid! Hooray.
"Dude. What the fuck?" Evan blinked, and Connor was right in front of him, waving his hand in front of Evan's face.
"Uh, what?" Evan asked. Then he snapped out of whatever shock response his body was put into by seeing Connor. He knew exactly what. "Right! No! Yes, no. No, I'm leaving. I'm so sorry."
Connor turned his nose up at Evan's stammering. "Shut up. Why are you in my room?" He demanded.
Evan let out a nervous laugh. He'd been told to start doing that in awkward situations. Laugh stuff off, people will laugh along with you. But this wasn't awkward, this was frightening. Connor Murphy fought people. Evan couldn't even throw a proper punch if he tried.
"I'm sorry, I was looking for the bathroom. You just have a really big house and stuff. I really need the bathroom though, so if you knew maybe you could-"
"If I knew? It's my house! What do you mean if I knew??" Connor scoffed at Evan like he was a moron.
He sure did feel like one.
"No, of course you know where it is! I didn't doubt that. Uhm, where is it?" Adrenaline from being startled was wearing off, Evan's voice was becoming quieter, getting shakier the more he spoke.
"Which one?" Connor asked pettily, crossing his arms.
"Just, uh, the one your mom wants me to use?" Evan tried to specify.
"I'm not my mom, so I'm not too sure what that means." Connor shrugged, feigning confusion.
"I- I'll go look again, sorry to bother you, Connor, really." Evan reached for the handle again.
Connor's hand slammed over the door, locking it with the other.
"You know my name? I don't know yours. Never seen you before." Connor pressed.
"Oh, yeah... I think we might've had some classes together maybe?" Evan's eyes darted down anxiously to the locked handle. Why would Connor do that??
"Really? That's funny. I'm sure I would've learned your name at some point," Connor remarked in an almost patronizing tone.
"I'm not popular or anything, s-so maybe that's why?" Evan began to explain.
He and Connor truly had not a single reason to interact before this whole dinner get-together. Even then, Evan wouldn't exactly count that as a reason because he couldn't even use this to justify talking to Zoe casually. He was there because of their parents, not because they were friends. Therefore, no conversation was necessary, so he should not try.
"Yeah right. I'm not popular either. So tell me how you really know me," Connor pushed.
"I- I don't know... We've been in school together for a while? Isn't the same reason anyone knows any of their peers' names?" Evan was confused by this question.
He didn't understand what Connor was getting at. Evan couldn't recall a time they had an actual conversation other than maybe bumping into each other in the hallway, which ended in Evan stuttering out a sorry and Connor scowling at him.
"Are you sure it's not because you and your freak friends make fun of me?" Connor accused.
Woah. Wrong guy. Like, seriously. Evan didn't have friends. He had maybe one, if Jared was feeling generous. Surely, Connor was making him out to be someone else. How to clear his name?
"Uhm. I don't think you know what you're talking about," Evan said, trying to be polite.
"Me? You're the one who barged into my room! I know exactly what I'm talking about! You're a part of that stupid circle of kids whose parents go to the country club with my parents. And then they talk, and my mom tells their parents shit about me, and then they talk about me at school. Okay, well you can tell them to take a fat dick and shove it up every single one of their-"
"I'm Evan Hansen?" Evan blurted.
That would prove to Connor he certainly was not a part of any sort of rich kid group.
"Who the fuck is that?" Connor was taken aback. His face was beginning to turn slightly pink with... embarrassment?
"...Me?" Evan looked around awkwardly because there was really nothing else to do other than stand there in this terrible situation he hadn't meant to cause.
"Right... You know... I've never seen you around them." Connor stated in place of an apology for blowing up on Evan like that.
Evan nodded quickly. He didn't even know who Connor was talking about, he tried to keep his head down while walking in the hopes that he wouldn't make eye contact with the wrong people. He really couldn't tell anyone what was going on during passing periods, but apparently Connor was living a completely different reality.
"So... Why are you up here again? The bathroom?" Connor asked, almost shy.
"Yeah, well, no... I'm probably just going back downstairs." Evan responded.
It had certainly been nearly ten minutes by now. Someone would come to check on him if he didn't move it and get back downstairs.
"Why? It's, uh, not really that much of a bother," Connor murmured, not looking Evan in the eye.
"I need to get back to dinner," Evan explained.
Connor rolled his eyes, unlocking the door for Evan. "Why bother? The food tastes like shit and everyone's fake."
Exactly! Except Evan would never say that out loud. That was rude to Mrs. Murphy, even if her food was bland.
"What? You don't have to pretend like you like going to them. Why do you think I'm not down there?" Connor paced around his room.
Evan's eyes followed Connor, actually taking in the bedroom for the first time. If the walls were white, Evan wouldn't be able to tell. Posters and shelves and bookshelves covered and hid the walls. Everything was either black, grey, red, or a very dark shade of blue. Evan wondered how long it took Connor to accumulate such a collection of things that covered the color white.
"It's not that bad," Evan finally said, referring to Mrs. Murphy's cooking.
"Please," Connor scoffed, his tone light and almost joking.
"I mean, my mom never cooks. So I guess there's not really a bar." Evan shifted uncomfortably.
Connor thought for a moment, then spoke. "Yeah, but you can still tell what food is supposed to taste like."
Evan shrugged. That was technically true, he just felt grateful that someone had home-cooked food for him. It just so happened that the food was dry and kind of bland.
"Your mom's in the country club and doesn't cook?" Connor asked.
"She's a nurse, she works a lot of overtime and sometimes at night. We don't have money for a country club, my mom's friends got her in." Evan revealed.
"Oh, yeah. Okay, so which one's your friend?" Connor had sat back down on his bed.
"None. Or, my mom is friends with the Kleinmans. But I'm not really friends with Jared," Evan's voice grew quieter as he spoke on.
"Jared? Glasses, right? And he talks like this?" Connor made his voice nasally, scrunching his nose as he made the impression.
Evan almost laughed. He never talked to anyone about Jared, so hearing someone make jabs at him was kind of funny.
"Yeah. He wears red usually," Evan clarified.
Connor nodded, "Yeah. I know who you mean. Wish I didn't. Y'know, I would consider yourself lucky. You don't have to deal with him, he's probably into Magic: The Gathering or some dumb bullshit."
"I don't know, he's never mentioned it to me. But I guess he doesn't have a reason to. We're not friends or anything." Evan began digging his fingers into the hem of his shirt.
Just the mention of Jared made him nervous. He was reminded of how he was currently sitting alone every day at lunch because Jared was too embarrassed to be associated with him.
"So are you leaving or what?" Connor looked to Evan after a few moments of silence.
Crap. He'd overstayed his welcome and had surpassed the ten-minute mark. Was jumping out of the window an option?
"Sorry," Evan rushed to leave.
"I mean... You don't have to? I know that it's like, suckass to be down there," Connor murmured, staring down at his duvet bunched up in front of him.
"Oh, no. I don't have to stay. I don't want to invade your privacy." Evan shook his head.
"I mean. You kinda already did." Connor replied flatly.
Damn, what now? What would they even talk about? They weren't friends, they probably didn't have much in common other than the fact that they were both friendless. Evan felt the familiar discomfort of panic heat up his body like a geyser.
"Can you just tell me what to do?" Evan blurted out.
So this was dreadful, and he'd made a complete and utter fool of himself. Why would Connor ever care what he did? Evan was genuinely an imbecile for thinking Connor would ever make a conscious decision for him. Why should he care?
"Just stay up here... Like, if you want to, I mean. I don't really care what you do," Connor told him.
Great. Was that an invitation? Now what? Was it courteous to decline and let him be or accept the offer and stick around? Maybe Connor was just being nice? But did Connor Murphy really do nice?
"You can like, sit at my desk or something?" Connor got up, pulling out his gaming chair and clearing it of his sweatshirt he'd draped over it.
Evan walked over to the chair stiffly, sitting down in it like he was covered in mud and shouldn't be touching furniture. Connor eyed him suspiciously before sitting down on the edge of his bed. Awkward silence filled the room around them once again.
"So..." Evan began without a plan of how to finish his thought.
He looked around the room, desperate for something he could connect to. The bookshelves. Lots of books, more than Evan had expected.
"Have you ever read..." Evan inspected the shelves, squinting at the spines of the books.
Connor's eyes lifted at the mention of reading.
"Did you like Catcher in the Rye?" Evan asked.
A safe choice. They all had to read Catcher in the Rye as part of an assignment for school at some point. Most people their age hated it.
"Yeah, actually. People give Holden a hard time, but I don't think they understood him at all. I hated that unit. Everyone just misinterpreted everything. It was so annoying." Connor recalled bitterly.
"I liked that book... I don't think anyone who dislikes that book has ever lost anything like that before. They just don't get it," Evan agreed.
Evan met Connor's eyes timidly, awaiting his reaction to his response. He was surprised to see a small smile, a smirk almost, had formed on Connor's lips.
"Thank God. See, your head is screwed on right. We should've been partners for that one. It was better than anyone I worked with on it," Connor remarked.
"No one's ever said that to me before," Evan said before he could stop himself.
Connor looked at him, a little confused. "Uh, which part?"
"Both?" Evan answered.
Connor nodded silently, averting his eyes from Evan's face for a moment. Evan could begin to feel like he was ruining their interaction. He was terrible at this. He could've just joked around or continued the conversation, but now he was being self-deprecating and pessimistic.
"Damn," Connor snickered.
"Sorry. I'm not good at this," Evan apologized, hugging his knees to his chest.
"It's okay. I don't have friends either, actually," Connor let out a sigh.
They stared at each other for a moment before Connor lay down on the bed, staring up at his ceiling.
"You can, like, come over here if you want," Connor offered, gesturing to his bed.
Evan stood up slowly, creeping towards the bed like a scared animal. Connor wasn't looking at him, Evan sat down on the very edge of the mattress. It dipped slightly under his weight.
"Do you have a girlfriend or anything?" Connor inquired, his gaze staying trained on a poster hanging above him.
"No," Evan answered, his cheeks flushing a little at the mention of dating.
"Oh, sorry. Boyfriend?" Connor asked.
Evan was a little taken aback. Had Connor assumed he said no because he was gay and not because he was a complete and utter loser with no ability to swoon anyone??
"Uh, no. I'm single," Evan muttered.
"Oh, really? I didn't really expect that. I dunno why," Connor sounded slightly surprised.
Evan didn't say anything. He observed some figurines Connor had lined up for display on a shelf. Batman.
"I guess it's cause, like, people usually go for people like you," Connor began. "Like, they think you have layers because you're really shy and quiet. They want to pry at you and see what's underneath all of that mess."
Evan glanced back at him slightly, Connor was staring at his back.
"Do you know what I mean?" Connor asked, sitting up.
Their shoulders brushed, thighs close to touching.
"People don't get you like how you said they don't get Holden. They've never had to deal with anything like that, so they look at it with surface knowledge, assume you have something to hide, then judge you for the things you think you're not telling everyone." Connor rambled.
Evan listened. It wasn't often someone took the time to talk to him like this. It felt almost personal, like Connor was dishing up a part of himself to Evan and hoping he'd liked the taste enough to not throw it in the trash.
"I... I really like that book," Was all Evan could manage to say.
He didn't have a response for Connor's conclusions. But he wanted to hear more. He wanted to know what else Connor felt about him, about himself. It was like Evan was connecting with a real, living person for the first time in years. Someone who breathed air and showered and went to school every day. Someone entirely imperfect and human, not constructed by and restricted to words on paper.
"I'm... happy you like it," Connor mumbled, like it physically pained him to admit something had made him happy.
"I shouldn't have yelled at you for coming in here earlier," Connor admitted, like he was too scared to actually apologize. "Do you still need to use the bathroom?"
"I honestly was looking for one just to hide from your parents and everyone else," Evan looked down at his hands resting in his lap, almost ashamed to say it out loud.
"You can just stay up here. Like actually just chill... I mean, I think you should. They won't come in here," Connor offered.
If Evan knew Connor better, he'd know that was Connor's way of asking him to stick around. Connor wanted him there. But even though he didn't, he felt compelled to stay. The obligation didn't feel heavy, it was like Evan wanted to keep being around Connor too?
"If that's okay?" Evan asked.
Connor nodded, bumping their shoulders together again. He checked his phone, 7:55 p.m. These dinners lasted forever, sometimes people wouldn't even begin to leave until midnight. Evan didn't know this, but Connor was accustomed.
"I don't really have much to do. You could read, or like, sleep? I actually don't really know what people do at each other's houses," Connor let out a small laugh.
"I'll just do whatever you do," Evan informed him.
"Okay, well, I was trying to nap when you came in here. So if you don't mind, I'm going back to sleep." Connor lay down without another word.
Evan lay beside him, unsure if it was allowed, but he didn't think moving away was the right option either. The two scrolled social media for some time before Evan began to feel drowsy. It wasn't like him to fall asleep so quickly. His mind typically buzzed with anxiety, he couldn't ever shut it off. But here, lying in bed next to Connor, their bodies facing each other and emitting so much warmth...
Evan drifted off, his phone slipping to rest on the pillow beside him. His mind felt calm, like waves softly hitting the shore. He listened to Connor's breathing as he fell asleep, the consistent rhythm an unknown comfort. If he could've guessed, Evan would have never believed that sleeping next to someone was what would end up quieting his mind. Let alone, Connor Murphy.
The hours ticked away quickly, by the time Connor opened his eyes again, it was 30 minutes to midnight. He blinked his tired eyes to find Evan still asleep, nestled in his bed and very close to him. Connor froze up for a moment. Where do you even begin to function around someone who was sleeping barely 5 inches away?
Without bothering to check the time, Connor slowly pulled his duvet up over Evan's body, eyeing a piece of hair that had fallen over Evan's forehead. If Connor was a romantic, he would've brushed it away, maybe lovingly cupped his cheek. But he was afraid of the butterflies that threatened to flutter in the deep pits of his stomach, so instead he kept his hands to himself.
He'd never felt an urge like this, to care for something in such a way. Connor nearly feared it, having an attachment to someone in that way. But at least of all people, it was Evan Hansen. From what Connor could tell, they had the capability to be friends. He wouldn't ruin that yet with some funny feelings he had.
Evan's phone buzzed on the pillow between them. Connor ignored it, it wasn't his business. But it did explain why, about five minutes later, he heard a knock on his bedroom door. He didn't answer, just waited for whoever it was to start talking.
"Connor?" Ah. His mother.
"What?" Connor called back.
"Is Evan up here with you? He never came back downstairs." His mother inquired through the door.
"Yeah," Connor answered shortly.
"Oh, good! Can you tell him his mom is ready to leave?" His mother's footsteps quickly disappeared after her request.
Connor swiped his hand over Evan's shoulder, then let out a deep breath and began to shake his shoulder softly.
"Hey, Evan," Connor's voice was barely above a whisper. "Your mom is waiting."
Evan felt a soft pressure on his shoulder, similar to his back being rubbed. He opened his eyes after hearing Connor speaking. His mom? Oh, right. He wasn't at home. He was asleep in Connor Murphy's bed.
"Oh, okay," Evan mumbled sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
He slipped his shoes back on. He hadn't remembered taking them off, but they sat on the floor near the bed. He stood up after untying and retying his laces, reaching for his phone.
"Your shirt's a little wrinkled," Connor pointed out playfully as he watched Evan attempt to situate himself.
"Oh, Christ," Evan murmured, trying to straighten out his polo before giving up and walking towards the door.
"Wait," Connor told him, walking over to him after stumbling out of bed. "Uh, add me on Snap."
Evan waited as Connor fumbled with his phone before showing him his account. Evan nodded, pulling out his own phone and typing it in.
"Okay... I'll text you. Thanks," Evan fidgeted nervously, his face growing hot as he thought about texting Connor after tonight.
"I'll see you on Monday?" Connor assumed.
Evan nodded, smiling at him shyly before opening the door and making his way back down the hall. Connor bit his tongue, silently cursing himself for both being unable to invite him to stay the night or hug him goodbye, and also for wishing he could've done those things at all. How was he supposed to grapple with the fact that he'd fallen for Evan Hansen?
Evan slinked down the stairs, his legs feeling unstable from just waking up. His mother was exchanging goodbyes with the Kleinmans. Jared stood there with his arms crossed, eyeing Evan suspiciously. Evan approached his mother after watching the other family leave.
"There you are!" His mother greeted him. "Are you okay? You vanished after eating."
"Oh, yeah. I was hanging out with Connor." Evan replied.
His mother looked to Mrs. Murphy, her brows furrowing slightly. She shrugged in return.
Evan and his mother thanked Mrs. Murphy for having them over before walking out to their own car.
"So you two are friends?" Evan's mom asked him as they drove down dark roads lit by warm street lights.
Evan smiled softly, closing his eyes to drink in the memory of Connor.
"You could say that."