A/N: There is somewhat of a note at the end. It's not much of an excuse, but it is what I have to say about myself.

Troye thought it was...interesting that Logan chose to just sit in front of him without a word. It was almost enough to distract him from the rampant thoughts in his skull.

For the time being, he appreciated the token of silence. He was never the kind of person to burst out crying like that, nor had he ever told someone to 'get out' in such a violent way. At least, violent to Troye, he was sure there were more vulgar and aggressive ways to repel another person.

Between the choking post-cry breaths and the awkward silence that hung low from the ceiling, Troye was starting to feel less helpless. He had been taught to face adversity head-on, with no complaints. Since he had already failed the latter, the least he could do was to figure out a solution.

And so Troye stood up and headed straight to his old laptop, feeling a little light-headed from the lack of oxygen due to his irregular breathing.

Logan looked on. He wasn't sure if Troye standing up meant that a conversation was due, or if Troye was just retrieving a knife to instate his threats for Logan to get out. He sure didn't like seeing his buddy looking all defeated though, Troye had to be one of the most tolerant and resilient people he knew.

Finally, he gathered his courage - and his balls - to ask, "What's ya doin' over there?" Logan had his hands in his pockets, looking down at Troye's sitting form at the small wooden dining table. Round tables were an ergonomic tragedy to Logan; rectangular tables did everything a round table could do but better.

While Logan was getting distracted at his disagreement with Troye's round table, the latter made no effort to answer. Mostly he felt ashamed for being mean to Logan. Secondly, he wished his friend would just take a hint and leave him alone for the day. Maybe come bother him again at another time.

Of course, Logan had never been one to pick up what other people are putting down, so he walked closer and lent over Troye's shoulder to see what he was browsing.

Troye felt like he was going through the stages of grief. He had had his episode of despair. Now, he was fairly agitated and angry at Logan's lack of common sense regarding personal space. Surely there had been some hardwiring issues in Logan's brain while he was in the womb.

When Logan found out that Troye was looking at local job opportunities, he came to a conclusion. There was always the possibility that Troye had lost his job as a typewriter. However, Logan could not see how Troye could be this attached to a job that paid moth balls. Perhaps Troye had a strong connection to the position, but Logan wouldn't know since Troye had been working at the firm ever since they met.

"Did you get fired?" Logan asked as quietly as he could, since he felt pressured to keep the volume down.

If Troye were really fired, his crying episode would have lasted far longer. "No." Troye curtly replied. He now resembled a sulking child.

Logan really wanted to be a good friend, since this friendship seemed like it could be sustainable, and it did come with several merits. He hadn't really had a proper friendship that didn't involve some sort of sexual return, so being in a platonic relationship with Troye was beneficial to his ego. Basically, he didn't want to feel like he was being used for sex, but he still used other people for sex anyways.

In addition to that, Logan's free time, of which there was a lot of, instead of being spent on long periods of self-pleasuring or social pleasuring, he made an effort to show up somewhere close to Troye.

Listening to the clicking of Troye's keyboard, Logan came up with a brilliant idea. He whistled nonchalantly, gaining a look from Troye before slamming a hand over the back of Troye's laptop screen and shutting it.

Troye just stared, another one of those impassive looks that creeped Logan out. Little did he know, though, those stares meant that Troye was getting increasingly pissed off at him. Of course, Logan wouldn't have known even if it were carved into Troye's forehead though.

"We," Logan pointed between the two of them, "Are heading out for another bro-date. Bro-date part two, if you so desire."

Logan decided that his role in their friendship was to be impulsive, and through that trait he could perhaps cheer Troye up a little bit. He was determined to this work, to swear off his sex addiction and become a man of substance.

~

"If I saw you this excited to go to 'my shabby cafe' on a weekday, I'd have all the proof that pigs do fly." Troye air quoted, feeling less than excited to leave his apartment under such an unstable time in his life. He didn't want to spend even a penny on coffee and he definitely did not want to be seeing other people.

Logan had one of his arms around Troye's shoulder, effectively dragging him around in a headlock. Troye looked to his right and saw, faintly, his own reflection. He thought he looked like a car wreck. His usual hairstyle was found dead, and it was a massacre together with his blotchy cheeks and reddish eyes.

"Come on, bud. Work with ole' Logan here," Logan sighed dramatically, looking left and right before jaywalking like a massive public nuisance. "You just don't seem to be picking up on my hints, bud. Logan just wants to help you feel better, ya' know?"

A smile broke through Logan's face --he was so sure that the two ladies walking towards them had just orgasmed from staring at his flawless smile. In fact, the beefy looking dude might as well have creamed himself, Logan thought. He was just slightly conceited when he felt good about his body. Just slightly.

Troye was mentally praying to the great gods that he was delusional and didn't hear Logan right. If he were really preaching about 'picking up on hints', Troye could brand him with cast iron right across Logan's stubbled cheek with 'hypocrite'.

Logan stopped in front of the door, pulling it open for Troye to enter with a bow. Proper gentleman... Logan thought proudly.

However, just as quickly as they entered, Troye was clamping his hand over Logan's and dragging them both outside. As startled as Logan was, he still went with it, but not without readying his barrage of questions for the second time today.

Troye ignored the 'why are you changing your mind now?' and 'don't choose to be a mime now!' coming from his friend. He peeked through the window and, unfortunately, verified his suspicions.

Sitting down with a trenchcoat and a mug of black coffee, was creepy-dude-who-hit-on-Troye. He still couldn't remember the name. Ricardo or something of the sort, Troye estimated. Right below social interaction on Troye's list of 'don't want's was to see his stalker again. Evidently, the man hadn't shown him any signs of being a proper stalker, but Troye could only care less about being rude.

A noise resembling a grumble, groan and scream wanted to bubble through Troye's chapped lips. It was barely into the afternoon and after this morning's trauma episode, what he needed was solutions, not relaxation. He could kick back when he's steady enough.

"Let's go home." Troye said, immediately turning the way they came.

Logan was seriously at a loss for words. Was it his fault? For the first time in his life, he saw value in another person, someone who had restored a sliver of humanity into his life. Yet when he wanted to help, all he got was a shove in the chest and silence.

Perhaps Logan had been going about this friendship thing all wrong, and maybe it was unrealistic for Troye to seriously open up about his issues over a cup of coffee. Logan would have done the same - to vent - but at present, he really didn't have much he was dissatisfied with.

Sure, life could have been a little easier had he actually worked ahead of the deadlines, or he would have preferred to have a more meaningful life than to place his time in college where it would only be wasted. However, none of that was worth Logan's energy to be crying over, and just as likely, Troye wouldn't have cried over something insignificant.

Logan jogged up to Troye, who was waiting in front of a red light, and grabbed his shoulders. "Can you at least tell me what's wrong?" Logan said seriously. In fact, never in his life had he been this serious. He licked his lips, staring into Troye's blue eyes, seeing the creeping red veins.

There was a desperation and plea in Logan's eyes that Troye saw clearly. He looked away. Logan was holding expectations that would not be met by Troye in his current state of mind. He didn't want to spill his heart, he was too tired to do so.

"Was it someone?" Logan shook Troye's shoulders, "Did I do something wrong? I don't get it... I don't get why you aren't letting me help." Logan released Troye and ran his hands down his face, pleasantly surprised at how stressed and agitated he was becoming.

"Let's just go." Troye whispered, on the brink of faltering. Between where he was and where Logan stood, was an imaginary crack. Their friendship had been superficial to say the least and it left a lot to be desired, so the foundation was weak to begin with. However, Troye's inability to share his 'secrets' would determine the path on which their potential friendship would drift.

Listening to the broken syllables which fell from Troye's lips, Logan sobered up. He could see behind his eyes the desolate life he would lead if he were to continue mindlessly laying in bed with a different person each night.

All Troye wanted at the moment was peace and quiet. He was desperate enough to return to the real estate agency if that was what it took for the universe to allow him serenity. But of course, Logan had a different idea.

In he rushed to the cafe, dragging Troye behind him with his wrist tightly clasped between Logan's fingers. Troye didn't have the energy or capacity to respond; he wanted nothing to do with reality.

~

A blind person could tell just by Romero's presence that he was expecting someone. And those that could see, could easily discern Romero's slight contemplation.

Contemplate he did. Romero wasn't sure if Troye would even appear today, and he was playing this game undercovered, due to his excuse to the soccer club that he was calling in 'sick'. It wasn't going to affect his track record though, Romero was someone that was sought after, and his absence every now and again would not hamper his livelihood.

Romero clutched the plastic coffee mug in his hand, not enough to cause any cracks - as that would be humanly impossible with just a person's grip - but just enough to show his intentions.

Fate was something that never really crossed Romero's mind, but if he ever came close to it, today would be the occasion. Sure, it took him more than half his day just waiting there, but he has finally worked up the courage to speak to Troye and he wasn't about to let his 'stalking' go to waste.

It was a strong phrase, 'stalking someone'. Wouldn't anyone who was interested in something, conduct research before making an informed decision? Romero would like to think that just the same could be said about romantic relationships. It wasn't as if Romero was testing the 'product' before he bought anything, so he didn't enjoy being labelled as a stalker. He was just...smart about his ways.

The way Troye stumbled in behind a man, who looked determined and quite honestly malicious, would raise suspicions as it is. However, Romero saw shining red flags in the way Troye was jeering at the man.

Romero took quick steps to reach the pair, who were tensely analysing the range of choices that the cafe had to offer. Though, it wasn't much of a choice and they had to either choose average beverages or average beverages plus a metric tonne of sugar.

"Nice you see you again," Romero started, "Just saw you walking in with your friend here."

Troye looked behind him, and tried to pull his wrist out of Logan's grasp in punctuated jerks. "Yes, we are just getting something to go." Troye feigned a smile, blissfully oblivious to how tortured his expression looked.

"No," Logan turned around, looking straight into Troye's sizzling eyes, "We are grabbing a slice of cheesecake and sorting out your daddy issues."

"I do not have daddy issues!" Troye yanked his wrist hard, and Logan finally let him go.

As Troye spent a moment trying to recuperate, Romero and Logan's eyes met for a brief moment. Then, they immediately went to work, scanning each other's physical features.

Logan was pleased to find that he was taller than Romero, for what particular reason he was pleased, he could not tell anyone why. Even after he noticed that Romero was one of the soccer stars that he had once religiously followed, Logan was feeling no remorse for his judgement. The rush of pride seeing that the soccer player was definitely a fair margin older than himself was inexplicable as well. Although, the man's fashion sense did precede his own, however that was a low bar to cross, Romero wasn't just wearing 'clean clothes', they were far more sophisticated and no doubt had a couple more zeros attached to the price tag. That is not to say that the less dressy alternative that Logan was sporting wasn't attractive though. In fact it was quite the contrary, Logan remarked to himself.

On the other end of the warzone, Romero noted the youthful features of his competitor. That was what Logan was to Romero, another apex predator seeking to steal his game. Logan's musculature was one thing that had Romero beat, although, he was sure that if anyone told Logan to sustain his stamina for the entirety of a soccer game, his muscles would prove to be futile. Brute force was a strategy for the desperate.

All their opinions of each other had been formed in less time than Troye took to notice the plastic mug in Romero's right hand. Maybe it was because of his very unstable day, but he was flooded with gratitude the moment he caught sight of the insignificant item.

Shortly after, Romero turned to greet Troye properly and it was Logan's turn to acknowledge the sacred item in Romero's hand. Logan connected the proverbial dots and accusations started then.

"How did you get that cup?" Logan asked none too kindly.

"This gentleman here left it in a hurry yesterday," Romero explained with a smile directed at Troye. "I was just trying my luck to see if I could have returned it myself." Strangely, Troye felt the urge to respond with a similar expression, how much of it was genuine, no one knew, but it was a smile on a bad day nonetheless.

Logan was about to spitfire his questions, only stopping the stream of consciousness threatening to spill from his clenched teeth when Troye spoke before he did. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate the gesture."

"Perhaps you could return your gratitude over a plastic mug of coffee?" Romero held up the item in question, raising an expectant brow.

Troye bit his lip, he really shouldn't be considering his options here, what with Logan being worried and him being mentally exhausted. However, it seemed rude not to at least return such a simple request from a person who seemed genuinely kind.

Ultimately, Troye opted for a compromise. Today, he had had enough stress. Perhaps tomorrow or the day after, when he had recovered from his shock episode, he could meet with the kind man again. It would only be fair for the both of them that Troye got his serenity and Romero got his proper thank you.

"I think-" Logan started, but Troye stopped him yet again. He prevented a deep grumble from passing his larynx, he didn't like being subdued in front of this jerk of a grandpa, Romero Adkins. Logan was going to tear down every single poster of his in his childhood room!

"I think I will take a rain check on that..." Troye trailed off and looked back at Logan, who was looming over his shoulder, Troye didn't really know how to convey that he had had a terrible day without spitting the details.

Romero spared Logan one last glance, smirking knowingly to himself. He knew he had won the first step over Troye's 'friend', but he also knew that from here on out, it will be a battle, and Romero was not going to give up.

In his heart, he knew what awaits on the other side of headphones and coffee cups.

A/N: As per tradition and as promised, here is part of my brain for you to pick and an explanation to this disappearance of mine.

If I were to get straight to the point, I would say that firstly, I'm fine (mentally, physically or otherwise), but I am just afraid to continue this story.

Expectations placed on me by myself were immense. Troye is a character that mimicked who I am, and I didn't want to dig too deep to find buried hatchets. Most of these words come from a place of emotional instability so some things work and some things don't.

I have completed the first of three arcs in this story with a total of 13 chapters. They will be posted in relatively quick succession. The longer I hold on to this ninety-some page word document, the more conflicted I feel between wanting to share the high-highs and the low-lows of my writing.

I truly believe that I have accomplished something worth sharing, despite the fact that I would be throwing another shard of my soul into the internet and with wild hope that it anchors onto someone kinder than myself.

There will be plot holes and questionable decisions on my part, I hope you forgive that and give this story a chance. I promise there will be words to read and opinions to be had.