Some of this is from the actual show. Scratch that, MOST OF IT is from the actual show. I think.

NOW BUCKLE YOUR SEAT BELTS, EVERYONE

We're gonna get some fluff.

---

"Zoe! Zoe!" I turned around. The girl who I was in charge of showing around the school, Christine Canigula was was running up to me, Micheal, Jared and Jeremy. 

"Hang on," I said. "Yeah?"

"Well, you like theatre right?" I nodded and laughed.

"Yeah." 

"Well, the school play opened. Do you wanna... audition?" 

"Uh..." I hadn't really thought about that. But being in a play would be fun. "Sure! When are they?"

"November 7th. You have to sing a song and read some lines from the play." 

"A-a song?" I don't know if I could do that. I sang at open mic night at a cafe, but it was on Sunday and 3 people were there, and they didn't seem to care.

"Yeah, but don't worry." She smiled brightly. "You'll do great! Okay, bye, Zoe!" And ran away. We all turned around except for Jeremy, who stood rooted to the spot. 

"Jer?" Micheal asked. Nothing. Micheal smirked and grabbed his arm. "Oh yeah... Christine. Right." He looks back at us and makes the heart symbol with his hands. I smile. 

"You like her?" I ask. He stayed silent before rigidly turning to me.

"What? No. Of course not. She's just. Uh. Normal."

"You sound like a robot." Me and Micheal both say.

"I have Band Rehearsal so I gotta scoot. Bye! Don't like, take over the school for her, just ask her out."

-

"Go ahead, Ms Murphy."

I took a deep breath and walked to the front of the room.

"Well, you see my brother, Connor has-has, well, died, and his, uh, his best friend, Evan Hansen has put together a thing called 'The Connor Project', and he-he was wondering if the Jazz Band could do a concert thing for the assembly happening on the 30th of this month. So, my question is are you all willing to, uh, do that?"

 Amy Collins raised her hand." So, like a concert?" She asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, a concert."

"But we don't have any music!" Jess, my fellow guitarist and Amy's twin said. 

"Oh, uh right, well, what about songs we did last year? Or- or something."

"Did you forget that we weren't here before?" Tyler Jameson said.

"N-no, of course not but-"

"It's okay, Zoe, I'll give everyone music."

"But-but the concert is in nine days-"

"I'll give them last years. It'll be easier."

-

"When's the assembly for the thing?" My father asked. 

"The Connor Project." My mom responded.

"Okay, when is it?"

 "Did you not know what it was?" 

"I was just-"

"He's your own son!" 

"Cynthia!"

"Larry, how did you-"

"Goddammit! It's the 30th!" I said. "Would you two stop fighting?!"

"Fine. I'm sorry Zoe." She made a puppy face. I glared at her.

"I'm not a baby."

"I know."

And you haven't seemed to care since I was. 

-

(Sorry for all the short stories, I just need to get to the point somehow)

---

October 30th, 2017

"1,2,3,4-"

We all strummed, pressed, blew, or hit the notes on the sheet in front of us. The background chatter ceased and after only one song, we were ushered off the stage. 

"Now, give it up for Connors Murphy's best friend, Evan Hansen!" Alana Beck smiled at Evan and beckoned him onstage. 

He came out, small and nervous, his hands shaking and- is that Connors tie? He gripped the microphone and the tiniest noise escaped his mouth. He stopped and tried again, looking at the notecards, then back at everyone. If he vomited right then it wouldn't come as a shock.

"Good morning, students and faculty. I would, um... I would just like to say a few words to you today about... My best friend... Connor Murphy. I'd like to tell you about the day that we went to the old Autumn Smile Apple Orchard. Connor and I, we stood under an oak tree, and Connor said, he wondered what the world would look like from all the way up there. So we decided to find out. We started climbing slowly, one branch at a time. When I finally looked back, we were already 30 feet off the ground. Connor just looked at me and smiled, the way he always did and then... well, then I... I fell. I lay there on the ground and then- " 

He shuffled the notecard and continued. "Good morning, students and faculty. I would, um..." 

Someone laughed. He had stopped, frantically trying to find the next one and in his struggle, he dropped the cards. He quickly knelt down, but didn't pick them up, just stared at them, the looked at us. He glanced backstage, terrified. Finally, he stood up, took a deep breath and started over. But not with words.

"Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could disappear? Like you could fall, and no one would hear?" He took a deep breath, his nerves calming.

 "But see, the thing is when I looked up... Connor was there. That's the gift he gave me. To show me that I wasn't alone. To show me that I matter. That everybody does. That's the gift he gave all of us. I just wish... I wish we could've given that to him." I glanced over at my parents, my mom was crying. I looked back at Evan, disbelieving. This is actually happening. 

"Well, let that lonely feeling wash away. Maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay. 'Cause when you don't feel strong enough to stand, you can reach, reach out your hand. And oh, someone will come running, and I know, they'll take you home." Oh my god. 

"Even when the dark comes crashing through, when you need a friend to carry you, and when you're broken on the ground, you will be found." This is really happening. 

"So let the sun come streaming in, 'cause you'll reach up and you'll rise again. Lift your head and look around." My brother is dead. This is real. "You will be found. You will be found. You will be found. You will be found...You will be found." 

He stopped. Looked around. Nothing. Silence. But then something. A loud noise, growing. Like a storm. Applause.

---

It was everywhere. The speech. Everywhere I turned. Instagram, Tumblr, Youtube, Pinterest, everywhere. 

"Mom? Have you seen this?" The Connor Project have thousands of people following it. It was being shared and reposted.

My mom quickly opened up her phone and texted a contact called 'The Connor Project'. I watched the bubbles burst into letters.

Evan:

I don't understand what happened?

Cynthia:

You did.

"Oh my god! Connor is everywhere." She said.

Everywhere. 

I walked upstairs and picked up my guitar swiftly and closed the door. I have a mirror in the corner of my room that I could now see my reflection. "Tempting to sing Mulan" Connor would say. I flicked my wrist on the strings, letting a made-up song spill out. The feelings you write on paper. The secret feelings you hide in your hands.

"A part of me...Finds a hope in holding on. A part of me won't give up what isn't gone...A part of me..." I paused. "Wants to share the hurt and heartache...That I felt that day when you took away...A part of me..." I set down my guitar and sighed.

A noise from the other room. The one next to mine. "You are not alone." Someone crying. Not my mom, my dad. My blank slate unforgiving lawyer father.

I whispered it. "You are not alone."

I grabbed my computer and walked into Connors room. The same thing, nothing had changed. And yet everything had changed. I opened my computer and clicked on the ones of thousands of links leading to the speech. 

"Someone will come running and I know they'll take you home"

I paused the video. Had anyone ever taken me home? No one came running, I now didn't even have friends. I have acquaintances, performers and school partners. Even when I ran away, I took myself home. No one even noticed that I left. I didn't even have anyone left. Because my parents didn't care about me. They cared about Connor. ("i love my dead gay son")  I unpaused it, repeating his words.

"Even when the dark comes crashin' through when you need someone to carry you... When you're broken on the ground..." And in that moment, I did break. I felt my lungs take deep shaky breaths and my eyes water, but I felt numb.  In the moments before, I hadn't cried. Not really. A sob, a tear, not a real cry. But this was real. 

There in my bed, still sobbing tomorrow.

I heard the door opened quickly shut my computer. "I-" (she doesn't say this but pretend she does, you just can't hear it) I looked up to none other than Evan Hansen.

I could give in to all of the gloom.

Remember him?

I stood up, awkwardly, trying my best not to cry, and trying to ignore the fact that I so obviously had. 

But tell me, tell me what for?

He walked in and sat on the bed. We had reversed placed since last time. I stared at him, I was breaking all over again. "Everything you said in your speech. Everything you've done. You don't know how much... What you've given... All of us, every one. My family." I looked up, then down again. "Me." 

Why should I have a heavy heart? Why should I start to break in pieces?

"No, this is-" 

I looked at him. "You've given me my brother back."

Why should I go and fall apart for you?

Without thinking, I kissed him. Not for long, of course, it was a stupid thing to do, I realized that. It wasn't the kiss you read about in fairy tails, his lips weren't as soft as pillows, they didn't melt into mine, it was surprising to both of us, more than romantic. 

I gripped the bedsheets tightly, my mind overflowing. 

You kissed him. Why did you kiss him? Especially after the fact that you pulled away before. Would he be confused? I just looked good through Connor's eyes, he doesn't like me. You're so stupid what do you do? Do you walk away? Apologize? Drop-kick him and scream 'The bed is lava'? Then can I yeet (sorry) into it because-

He kissed me.

(Now BEFORE WE GET ALL TOUCHY, disclaimer, I've never been kissed before. I have no clue what I'm doing. I'm just gonna use references from books and other fanfics and I DUNNO. Now that that's clear like butter, let's get a move on)

 It took me as a surprise, I had expected him to run out, as I did before, but our arms were wrapped around each other and I was kissing back. I had always liked him a bit, sure, thought about kissing him, but wishing it wasn't a big part of me. But now I wanted to, even though I already was.

Man, other's people's mouths are weird.  Different shapes, tastes, well not tastes were weren't-...Of course, there you were, wondering if your breath stunk or you were doing wrong because we absolutely did not know what we were doing. Shifting, half standing, all the awkward things you do when you, y'know, kiss people. Then we pulled apart.

"Heh..." I fingered gunned him. "Hi."

He exhaled. "Woah." His head snapped up. "Sorry, uh you probably didn't..." He trailed off. I grinned and scooted forward. 

"I kissed you back."

"Well-...Is there-now...something?..." He pointed at both of us. "between us?"

"Well, wasn't there...before? I guess."

"Right, I'm sorry about that I didn't  mean to it just- it just happened and..." He sighed. "I don't know."

"I shouldn't have reacted that way, I panicked. I did..." I stopped. Do we like each other? Now?  "This is kinda... a weird question." I giggled a strange laugh. "Well, do we... like each other? Romantically?" He turned red.

"Well-"

"Zoe, your friend Evan is here!" My mom shouted from downstairs. We both laughed.

"I should go..."

"Oh, yeah of course right." I stood up awkwardly. Should I say something? 

"Uh... your...hands-" He checked them seemingly instinctively. "No! Not sweaty, they weren't sweaty. They're just... soft?"

He smiled sheepishly. It wasn't horrible. He opened the door.

"I guess there is something between us now."

Click.

I giggled maniacally and tipped my head against the wall. For a long time.

"Hello." I lifted my head from the wall, not looking front.

"Yes?"

"So you and Friendless making out on MY bed?" 

Oh. 

Shit.

"Remember? You're. Not. Allowed. In. My. Room." His tone was getting louder, almost like he was here, right behind me. 

"You made a choice," I muttered, still facing the wall, hands planted on it like I was doing push-ups.

"A choice of what?"

"You know the choice."

"To die? I didn't choose to die. Death chose me."

"He spun around in his fucking black robe and his side-knife and pointed and said 'its time'?"

"You don't choose mental disorders. They implant themselves, little vines that grow and twist around and suffocate your brain. You can't breathe. You can smile. Have a good time for a night. It doesn't matter because it'll appear tomorrow, tell you all the things you're doing are wrong. After a while, you give in to the pleas. You crack open the bottle with your own hands that slashed your skin. You bring it to your mouth where you hurt so many people. And you close your eyes, hoping to never see the horrible world again. Does that answer your question?" 

Silence. Then-

"I'm broken too." It sounds so weird out loud.

He scoffed. I spun around. No one. I continued, lecturing into thin air.

"Listen, that doesn't mean that you can blame it all on your depression. You need to take responsibility for everything regardless of your mind. I understand how empty you feel-don't laugh! Just because I didn't smash a lamp or a fucking piano doesn't mean I don't hurt! It doesn't matter how much older you are or anything. What makes you think that 'Oh, I can manipulate and hurt you. I'm sorry, I'm fucking depressed' is ever a good excuse? Never. Do That. I was stuck with the role of the good child, mom and dad favored you, but I was stuck being perfect too them. You were expected to fail, and they still loved you. You had courage to break free. People would've said I was dramatic. You got to die. I was forced to live." 

I'd wanted to say that for so long. But before he responded, he was gone. A figment of my imagination. A little imaginary 'friend'.

Oh God.

Oh crap.

Me and Evan Hansen kissed.

We made out.

On my brother's bed!

After he died!

---

heheheheheehe

Okay, here are some photos. (They're all really bad quality sorry)

Basically the speech

"You are not alone."

(country boy i love yoooooou) "Even when the dark comes crashin through when you need someone to carry you... when you're broken on the ground..."

well that escalated quickly

"You've given me my brother back."

thank you for reading this garbage.