Cyrus felt infuriatingly restless over the next week, looking out the window during class, not being able to keep his mind focused on one thing. Well. Unless that thing happened to be TJ Kippen. His brain had no problem with making his thoughts wander almost constantly to him.

He hadn't exchanged a single text with TJ in a few days now, and he was terrified that he had been caught in all of his lies somehow. That TJ had found out about all the things Cyrus was keeping from him. The thought made him feel sick to the stomach whenever it appeared in his head, which was why he so desperately tried to distract himself with schoolwork and baking and anything that didn't involve green eyes and bright smiles and - yeah. He wasn't exactly having an easy time. He was well aware that the normal way to go about a situation like this would've been to just reach out and ask TJ if things were okay between them, but the thought just stressed Cyrus out. Doing so would only mean that if TJ wasn't already aware that Cyrus was hiding things from him, he definitely would be.

Despite not having the nerve to initiate a text conversation with TJ, Cyrus made sure to message Marty was much as he could. He really did mean it when he said he'd never randomly start ignoring him just because of things that were going on between him and TJ. Marty eventually suggested that they catch up on Saturday and Cyrus had agreed instantly, which was why he was currently pacing anxiously back and forth in his room.

He had told Marty that there were things he wanted to tell him, and sure - there were, but should he? Would it be unfair to tell Marty everything that had been going on and expect him to keep it a secret from TJ, who he had known for a much more significant amount of time?

Cyrus let out a heavy sigh and stopped pacing for a moment to stare down his reflection. He ruffled his hair slightly, not finding it within himself to care when it'd just be messed up by the wind outside anyway. He looked somewhat like a mess all round, wearing the jeans and cropped sweater he had thrown on earlier (he may or may not have stolen the cropped sweater from Buffy.)

A glance down at his phone confirmed that if he didn't leave soon he'd be late, so he slipped on a pair of shoes and begrudgingly traipsed out of his room.

"Dad, I'm going to see Marty now!" he called as he approached the front door.

"Who's Marty again?" came the muffled response.

"The dancer guy!"

He heard soft laughter after that, followed by an "okay! Let me know when you plan on heading back!"

Cyrus nodded, realising only after he had stepped outside that his dad couldn't see him.

Damn. He really was out of it.

As he walked, fighting against the harsh wind with every step, his thoughts returned to Marty. He had been nothing but kind and supportive toward Cyrus despite his active attempt to push him away. Surely that had to count for something, right?

Cyrus was still conflicted as he approached the cafe, hesitantly pushing his way through the glass doors and wincing slightly when the bell above him chimed, alerting everyone inside to his presence. He glanced about nervously, spotting Marty almost immediately on the blue couch where he and TJ had sat down for iced coffee that rainy afternoon.

Marty looked up as he approached, and the warm smile that came to his lips had Cyrus making up his mind in an instant. He had to tell him. He knew TJ better than anyone else after all - surely he had to have an idea of what Cyrus could do.

Finally coming to a decision had Cyrus relaxing slightly as he sat down, returning the boy's smile.

"Hey!"

"Hey," Marty greeted, grabbing an iced coffee from the small table in front of them and handing it over.

Cyrus gave him a questioning look, which Marty answered with an amused "TJ told me. And you ordered it that day with Jonah."

"Oh! Right."

Silence fell between them for a moment. Cyrus glanced around, taking a sip of his iced coffee before setting it back down on the table. The cafe was filled with quiet chatter, as well as sounds from the bustling street outside. He made eye contact with Sophie, who gave him a little wave as she moved between two different coffee machines. He smiled and waved back.

Marty cleared his throat. "So did you still wanna talk about...you know..."

Cyrus inhaled deeply and nodded. "Yeah."

The boy looked over at him expectantly, but his gaze was kind and Cyrus knew he wasn't trying to rush him into speaking. He racked his brain for a moment, trying to figure out where on earth he should start.

"Um. Okay, so basically...I have an ex..."

Marty didn't interrupt him once during his spiel about Dylan, although he did look particularly fired up while Cyrus recounted some of their conversations. He explaining their history, explained his messages, explained his random appearance two weeks ago and how much it had all fucked with Cyrus' mind (for lack of a better word.)

"And I guess I just couldn't help but think about how similar he and TJ were...I know it probably sounds stupid, and it is, but-"

"Cyrus," Marty said gently, and the boy turned to face him, looking somewhat alarmed by the disruption. In all of his talking, he had almost forgotten that someone else was right next to him, listening to everything he was saying.

"It's not stupid, okay? Dylan's stupid."

Cyrus nodded slowly, taking another nervous sip of his iced coffee. Although he didn't quite believe the words, it was reassuring to hear them from someone as level-headed as Marty.

"And I get it. I get why you think TJ might hurt you. I get why you're scared of telling him how you feel, but Cyrus - TJ likes you so much I can't believe it sometimes."

Cyrus smiled faintly despite himself. He leaned over to the couch next to him and grabbed one of its pillows, hugging it to his chest. He couldn't care less about how he looked - he just needed something there.

"You know that day you came here with him? And went into that antique shop?"

Cyrus nodded, his smile widening slightly at the memory. It was always a pleasant one to come back to - sitting with TJ while it poured rain outside, discovering what a history nerd he was, running down the street with him laughing for no reason. He wanted all of that back so desperately it created a longing ache in his chest.

"Yeah," he confirmed, his voice soft. "I remember."

"When he came over to my place that night, he-" Marty paused for a moment, laughing quietly to himself. "It was ridiculous. He could not stop talking about you. He arrived at my door completely soaked with this huge smile on his face, gushing about how great you were and how much he liked hanging out with you. Before I even met you at that dance competition I felt like I already knew you."

Cyrus couldn't help but laugh along, feeling heat rising on his cheeks at the prospect of TJ talking about him like that.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he remembered something.

"Was he at your place when he called me?"

Marty gave him a confused look. "Wait - he called you? No wonder he looked so dead the next day."

Cyrus couldn't help but laugh. "You didn't realise?"

"I fell asleep pretty early," he explained with a wide smile. "The idiot must've gone into another room."

"I hope he didn't disturb anyone," said Cyrus with a slight frown.

"We were the only ones home," Marty assured him.

He turned the information over in his head for a few moments, glancing about the cafe again. The thought of TJ dropping everything to talk to him made him feel warm inside, while simultaneously making him feel even more guilty for ignoring him. He felt his face fall again, and Marty must've notice if his sudden frown was anything to go by.

"What's wrong?"

Cyrus let out a small sigh. "There's something else."

He had never had to explain his situation with Iris to someone who didn't have any background about their friendship, so finding the words took him a moment or two. Marty took a sip of his own drink in the meantime, clearly not wanting to pressure him.

Cyrus began speaking then, trying his best to explain the set-up in a way that made it seem at least somewhat reasonable. Marty just listened again, silently taking in every word.

Once he had done the best he could, the boy gave a slow nod.

"Oh man...I knew there must've been something going on between you two after you came out to me, but I didn't wanna pry. If you're comfortable, I think you should tell TJ that because he's been hearing rumours."

"I know," he sighed, fidgeting nervously with the sleeves of his sweater. "...How's he doing by the way?"

Marty winced at that and Cyrus felt his stomach drop, his mind immediately imagining up the worst scenarios possible.

"He hates me now, doesn't he?"

"No!" said Marty as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "I think he might just be a little...confused."

Cyrus watched as he opened Instagram and searched for TJ's user, nervousness rising his throat.

"He posted this to his story last night," Marty explained, trying to keep his voice gentle as he showed Cyrus the screen.

He observed it for a few moments. It was a screenshot of 'What do you mean' by Justin Bieber playing on his phone, with small, added text reading '@ u.' Cyrus had to look away then, his heart in the pit of his stomach. If that wasn't an obvious indirect towards him, he honestly didn't know what was.

"Oh," was all he could bring himself to say after a moment, looking around the cafe again. He tried to focus on the quiet hum of music that was playing now and all of the quiet conversations he could hear around him rather than the thoughts that were racing through his head.

Marty placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He's just confused, Cyrus. That's all."

Cyrus nodded, glancing over at the boy with a faint, but grateful smile. "I hope so."

~

Dylan: I saw your boyfriend's Instagram story

Dylan: Trouble in paradise?

Cyrus: Can you shut up for once

Cyrus: I don't want anything to do with you

Dylan: That's interesting bc a) you're still responding to me and b) you haven't blocked me yet

Cyrus: That doesn't mean anything.

Dylan: I think it does mean something actually. Something that you're not willing to admit.

Cyrus: And what is that exactly?

Dylan: There's no one that knows you like I do, and deep down that's all you've ever wanted.

Cyrus closed Instagram and slammed his phone on the bed, feeling frustrated tears welling up in his eyes. He hated it more than anything in the world, but Dylan really did know him like the back of his hand. He knew things that even Cyrus didn't know about himself, which is what made him so dangerous to be around in the first place. He had him wrapped around his finger and if the smug smile he wore almost constantly around Cyrus was any indicator, he knew it too. He knew how to play to his weaknesses, and he knew how to play every single one of his cards right in order to get what he wanted. Cyrus was almost certain that this time what he wanted was revenge, and the thought of that terrified him so much he was beginning to feel anxious at mere mentions of the name Dylan.

The thing was - being with Dylan hadn't been all bad. Knowing so much about Cyrus meant he knew exactly how to comfort him when he was feeling low, exactly how to make him laugh, exactly how to reduce him down to a blushing mess. A forgiving mess. A mess that could look past all of the horrible ways he had tried to use him. It was true - not even TJ knew him as well as Dylan did, but that didn't make him a better person for Cyrus to be around by any means. He knew that when Dylan learned things about him, it was only so that he could use them against him later. It was a direct contrast to TJ, who learned things about him because he had a genuine interest in him.

The most frustrating thing was that despite knowing all of this, Cyrus still found some twisted sense of comfort in the fact that someone knew him so well. It really was something he wanted more than anything else deep down, which was why that text had hit him as hard as it had. He couldn't block Dylan on his own. Hell - he couldn't stop himself from giving into the urge to respond to Dylan, and that made him feel so defeated that he threw himself onto the bed and buried his face in a pillow.

He felt his phone buzz repeatedly beneath his arm, and he chanced a glance at the notifications that had appeared on his lock screen.

Dylan: I bet you haven't even told him about me, have you?

Dylan: No response. Wow Cy, I'm hurt :/

TJ: Hey Cy, I'm sorry for not messaging! I've been busy with school stuff. Wanna meet up at the park? I'll bring gummy worms :)

Dylan: Damn, must've struck a nerve there. Hmu when you're feeling better ;)

Cyrus grabbed his phone and sat upright, unable to help himself from opening his conversation with Dylan. He stared guiltily down at the screen, knowing well that he shouldn't feed into the obvious game that was going on.

Dylan didn't give him a shit about him. He never had, and he never ever will.

He took a few deep breaths to centre himself, feeling chills running throughout his body as he closed the app again and opened TJ's text instead.

TJ, he reminded himself. The person who actually cared about him.

Cyrus: Yay, gummy bears!! I'll be down there soon <3

He had sent the text without thinking, but as he looked down at it he realised that something was wrong.

Cyrus had added a heart. He never added hearts to his texts with TJ. Groaning to himself, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair, well aware that he probably looked like a hot mess. Heart or not, he was going down to that damn park and talking to TJ even if it killed him. Which, without seeming dramatic, it definitely would. That is - if the wind outside didn't kill him first.

He sent his dad a text before stepping out the door again, tugging on a jacket over his cropped sweater as he went. The wind had become even colder somehow, cutting right through him and inducing a few shivers as he made his way down the street. He was completely exhausted, and having to struggle against the wind wasn't doing him any favours.

TJ came into view soon enough, and he felt his stomach twist with unease as he walked up to him, approaching cautiously. The boy was sat down on one of the swings, and Cyrus could already feel his heart rate picking up as memories of TJ confessing his feelings all came flooding back.

He cleared his throat. "Hey."

TJ looked up, smiling when his gaze met Cyrus'. "Hey!"

Cyrus thought back to what Marty had said that morning, unable to keep himself from smiling back as he settled down on the other swing.

"How did your social justice club meeting go?" asked TJ, leaning over to hand him the bag of gummy worms he had been holding.

Cyrus felt his face light up at that, and the look TJ gave him was so fond he had to look away.

"It went well! We're raising funds for that charity now," Cyrus responded, gently pushing off the ground to begin swinging.

TJ's smile widened at that. "You charmed them, huh?"

"You could say that," came the smug response, which had both of them laughing a little.

Silence fell for a moment. TJ looked over at him again, biting his lip slightly and averting his gaze when Cyrus raised an eyebrow. He really was cute, with his ruffled dirty blonde hair, his sparkling green eyes and his red-tinged cheeks. Cyrus had to look away again before he started staring.

"Look," he began, sighing, "I know you're probably mad at me, but...I need to tell you something."

TJ's eyebrows furrowed at that. "...Okay."

Cyrus took a few deep, centring breaths, trying hard to come across as though he wasn't having an internal freak out at that moment.

"I um...I like you too," he rushed out without thinking, before immediately bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

Confusion flickered across TJ's face for a moment. Then Alarm. Then...a look that Cyrus couldn't exactly decipher. All he knew was that it didn't seem good.

He stood up from the swing all of a sudden, shaking his head and gently kicking at a pile of woodchips.

"Cyrus...you can't just-" he paused for a moment, letting out a bitter sounding laugh that had Cyrus' stomach twisting uncomfortably. "You can't just do that!"

TJ sounded as though he was fighting back tears now, refusing to look at Cyrus as he spoke.

"I just...I don't get you! It's like - one second you're flirting with me and I convince myself that maybe you like me back, then you...you run away when I tell you that I like you! Then you ignore me for a week, then I find out you have a girlfriend, and now you're telling me you like me?! Look - I get it, okay? You'll only ever see me as a friend. I can deal with that! But I can't deal with you giving me all these conflicting signals! I don't want to keep getting my hopes up! And I'm sorry for ever telling you. I got carried away and I thought you felt the same way for some stupid reason, but that doesn't mean you have to..." he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, "...do this to me."

Cyrus was stunned into silence at that, tears welling up in his eyes that he angrily tried to wipe away with the sleeve of his jacket. He felt numb, and it definitely wasn't because of the cold now.

"TJ..." he began, his voice wavering, but the boy just held up a hand to stop him.

"Save it, Cy. I'll see you around," he said, sounding tired as he kicked a few more wood chips and walked off in the opposite direction, not sparing Cyrus so much as a glance.

Cyrus sat there, doing nothing to stop the tears that were starting to fall down his face. He had fucked up. There was no other way of saying it. He had sabotaged his friendship with one of the nicest, funniest, most caring guys he had ever met all in the name of guarding a few stupid secrets. All because he had been scared. All because he had allowed Dylan to get back into his head.

His mind wandered to TJ, the way his eyes would crinkle when he laughed particularly hard at something, the blush that would always appear on his face when Cyrus told him he looked cute, the way his arms felt wrapped around him, and his heart shattered at the prospect of not regularly seeing or feeling any of those things. He thought about all their late night phone calls, about TJ's history spiels, about their trips to the cafe, about the first time Cyrus had seen him perform a dance routine.

TJ who was unapologetic to the core, TJ who was fiercely protective of his friends, TJ who always respected people's boundaries, TJ who gave the most heart-melting smiles, TJ who finished his history essays within two days of them being set because 'they're interesting, okay?'

TJ who he had hopelessly fallen for.

Cyrus ran a hand through his hair and stood up, feeling empty as he made his way home again.

~

Sunday, 4:13pm

Cyrus: TJ, I know you're mad, but can I please explain everything? I miss you already.

[Read, 4:14pm]

~

7pm was when Cyrus finally accepted that TJ wasn't going to respond. He had tried to distract himself with movies, checking in on their conversation occasionally, but all he ended up getting was an indication that TJ had read the text and nothing more. Hopelessness engulfed him then, and he threw his phone down onto the bed out of frustration. Knowing that this is how TJ must've felt when he was ignoring him was only adding to the dull ache in his chest.

He brought the blanket up to his chin and leaned back against the wall, realising with a pang that his way of dealing with situations like this was usually to call TJ. There was something about the softness of his voice, ringing out in the darkness of his room at night, that always made him feel better, if only slightly. He saw his phone light up with an Instagram notification, and he instantly recoiled away, bringing his knees up to his chest.

He had never felt as alone as he did then, sitting in total darkness, completely and utterly stuck on what should come next. With how much he had tried to push the people in his life away, he couldn't help but wonder why any of them still stuck around. While Dylan was in his head he was like a fire, burning everything in his path, not able to realise the consequences of anything he did unless it was in hindsight. He hated it more than anything.

Soft knocking filled the room all of a sudden, startling Cyrus slightly.

"Who is it?" he called out hoarsely.

The door was pushed open and his dad stuck his head inside, looking hesitant.

"Hey bud...you okay? You've been in here all day."

Cyrus softened immediately, pushing his blanket down slightly. He paused for a few long moments, debating whether or not he should tell his dad anything, before inhaling deeply and gesturing for him to come inside.

"No..."

His dad nodded slowly, stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind him. He flicked on a lamp, which had Cyrus wincing as light flooded his room. His dad walked over to the foot of his bed, sitting down in an almost uncertain fashion.

He had done nothing but push his parents away over the past few weeks, and he knew it was only fair that they at least understood some of what was going on. Even if that involved...

Cyrus bit his lip nervously at the thought.

"Wanna talk about it?" his dad asked.

Cyrus almost wanted to laugh. He supposed he had already explained everything twice, what was one more time?

"Well..." he began, searching for a place to start, "do you remember Dylan?"

His dad's face hardened slightly at the name. "Yeah...I do. Why?"

Cyrus hesitated for a moment before responding. "He's been messaging me lately...and it's like...it's like everything has gone back to how it was before," he explained, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

His dad just shook his head, shuffling across the bed to settle down beside Cyrus.

"What's he been saying?"

He almost wanted to backtrack then and pretend that it had all been a joke, but there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind urging him to go on. Telling his dad the truth now would mean getting caught in the lie he had been maintaining for his whole life, and the idea of that was so scary he couldn't help but freeze up for a moment.

"Well..." he trailed off, unable to look his dad in the eye. "To um...to explain that I have to explain a few other things first."

His dad nodded slowly, going along with it despite the confusion he was obviously trying to conceal. Cyrus took a deep breath. Then another. Tears were stinging at his eyes, and at that point he was tired of fighting them back that he just let them well up and eventually slip down his face.

"Cyrus? What's wrong?"

Cyrus shook his head, turning to face him and hugging him as tightly as he could. His dad brought a hand up to rub soothing circles along his back, still slightly stiff with confusion.

"Dylan wasn't just a friend," said Cyrus, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled away.

Disbelief flickered over his dad's face, before very obviously being smoothed over with concern. Cyrus could feel his heart hammering away in his chest now.

"Okay..." he swallowed thickly, clearly turning the information over in his head. "Then what was he?"

Cyrus just shook his head again, trembling slightly, the expression on his face apologetic. There was rain from earlier dripping down his window, the sky outside pitch black. He tried to force out the words that had been stuck in his throat all this time, and after a moment, he was able to do so in a soft whisper.

"...He was my boyfriend, dad...I'm gay."

The words hung there in the air for a moment, as though they were a material thing blanketing both of them in silence. Cyrus began to panic slightly, preparing himself for the worst, but his dad just pulled him back into a hug.

"We love you, okay? All four of us. No matter what any of us say."

Cyrus felt so overwhelmed with relief then he could only let a weak laugh. He felt all of the tension from keeping his secret slowly seep out of him, and eventually what replaced it was a crashing wave of exhaustion. The amount of nights he had rehearsed this exact conversation in his head was unbelievable looking back on it now, and he wanted nothing more than to travel back in time and reassure his past self that everything would be okay.

"So you're telling me that he wasn't just a toxic friend, he was a toxic boyfriend? Now I really have to kill him," his dad said, which had Cyrus laughing again despite the tears he could still feel clinging his face.

"There's something else too," he added.

His dad took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Hit me."

The mere thought of TJ Cyrus' smile slipping a little bit. He bit his lip for a moment, trying to remember what his dad knew about him at that point.

"Okay...you know TJ?"

His dad just nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "The other dancer guy, right? Oh wait - don't tell me - he's your current boyfriend!"

Cyrus gave him a playful shove, laughing slightly despite the longing ache those words caused in his chest. "No! I just...kind of, maybe, like him. But before you get your hopes up, I think I've ruined things between us for good so I probably don't have a chance...that's where Dylan comes back into it actually."

His dad frowned at that. "Why? What has he been doing?"

Cyrus decided it would be significantly better for him to show rather than tell, so he silently reached over for his phone and pulled up the Instagram messages between him and Dylan. His dad read over them, beginning from the message that had started everything, and his face twisted from one of concern to one of annoyance.

"This guy's an asshole," he mumbled, which had Cyrus smiling weakly despite himself.

When he was finished, he handed the phone back and silently stared into space for a moment, clearing trying to collect himself.

"He's a manipulative piece of work, isn't he?" he said, to which Cyrus could only give a small nod.

His dad hesitated for a moment, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. "Cyrus...don't blame yourself, okay? I don't know what happened between you and this TJ guy, but you can't beat yourself up about it. If anyone is to blame here, it's Dylan. Not you."

Cyrus nodded, trying hard to make himself believe the words.

"That being said..." his dad paused for a moment and let out a small sigh. "People like Dylan want nothing but control. Therefore...what do you think Dylan has as long as you're overthinking the things he told you?"

Cyrus averted his gaze down to his hands, which were intertwined nervously on his lap. "Control," he murmured.

His dad nodded solemnly. "He doesn't care about the truth. He cares about thinking up manipulated versions of it to scare you."

Cyrus knew deep down that his dad was right, and he felt somewhat like an idiot for playing into Dylan's hands so easily.

He hesitated for a moment, before asking "so what do you think I should do?"

"Block him," came the simple response, and the words themselves had Cyrus' stomach twisting uncomfortably.  "As long as he's constantly there in the background, you'll be thinking about him, but if he's blocked then...out of sight, out of mind."

Cyrus took a deep breath, fidgeting nervously with his bracelet. "Okay. I'll block him!" he announced, trying hard to seem as though he had at least the slightest amount of confidence.

His dad gave him a sympathetic smile. "It'll be okay. I promise."

He returned the smile as best he could, picking his phone up from the bed and typing in Dylan's username. He glanced up to his dad for reassurance, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up, before tapping the block button and watching as Dylan's profile disappeared from the screen, along with the dreadful feeling of having him constantly hover over Cyrus like an insistent fog, always trying to trip him up at every turn. He smiled slightly, before going on to delete their entire conversation too.

There was a wide smile on his lips when he looked back up.

"I'm proud of you, Cyrus," his dad told him, and for once in his life Cyrus could comfortably say that he was proud of himself too.

"Thanks, dad."

~

Sunday, 11:59pm

Cyrus: I can't do our fake-dating thing anymore, Iris. I'm so sorry.

~

A/N: THE NEXT CHAPTER IS HAPPIER I PROMISE