A/N:

Ah, finally it's here. The final chapter of Sweet Escape. I can't even begin to tell you how terribly happy I am that I finished my first story ever! And also terribly saddened that this is coming to an end. Such a conflicted feeling! But anyhow, I should give you a fair warning that there will be loads of dialogues in this chapter, but all in good cause as I need to get a lot of explanation out and what better way than to get it across using those dramatic one-to-one dialogues like we always watch on TV? Hehehe.

But oh, also, trigger warnings: mild swearing, stalker behaviour, blackmailing, mention of abuse, mention of homophobia, mention of rape.

So, if you don't mind all of those, please, enjoy the chapter and I hope it is to your satisfaction.

Ps: Huge THANK YOU to AGirlOfManyFandoms2016 for her shoutout in her latest Troyler Au called The Song. The story was incredibly fluffy and sweet and my #fluffgoals obviously. So, go ahead and take a look!

Without further ado, ENJOY!

Cheers!

Chin

The atmosphere in the room was solemn. The kind of solemnness when you're about to receive bad news but still clung onto the littlest hope that everything will be okay, that there's still chance of light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. Hushed murmurs and quiet sobs echoed loudly across the room as Steele came in with coffees, grabbed one for himself and another for his mother before setting it down on the small table.

Detective Nilsen had requested the Mellets' presence this morning to give them an update of the situation and prepare them for what's to come. Shaun and Laurelle were seated on the couch, their worried eyes red and tired from the constant sobbing. Steele joined them and pushed a cup of coffee into his mother's hand but Laurelle just grab onto it with little interest. Sage and Tyde were standing behind them like clueless mannequins, not quite sure what to expect but too timid to question anything.

Their eyes all followed the movements of Detective Nilsen as she moved a chair from the far corner and placed it in front of the Mellets. Gripping the case file in her hand, she sat down on the chair and braced herself of five very worried faces in front of her.

"I called this meeting today as a courtesy but more of a protocol on the missing person investigation. It is my duty to inform the family of the victim of our latest search and findings and it is also my obligation to inform you of the repercussions of said findings." She took a deep breath by the end of it and her professionalism was still intact. She had done this enough time to know how they were feeling. It made her heart clench every time but this was how it's supposed to be.

"It had been ten days since his disappearance and seven days since we know he had gone missing. In the usual case of a missing person, the best chance for us to find Troye is when the kidnapper contacts the family members and asks for ransoms. But we haven't heard anything from Troye's kidnapper and we have everything to believe that they won't, not after going by ten days without any form of contact. Mr and Mrs Mellets, in my most sincere opinion and heartfelt honesty, I'm not saying that you should give up hope but I urge you to at least prepare yourself for the possibility that chances of us finding Troye, alive or dead, may be small."

As soon as Detective Nilsen said the last of her well-rehearsed speech, the room erupted with a string of gasps followed by choking sobs that would make the toughest heart weep. The stubborn tears that rimmed Shaun's eyes threaten to fall as he tried to comfort the inconsolable Laurelle. Sage had broken down and was crying on Tyde's shoulder and Steele stayed muted but the tension in his jaw and fisted hands told that he wasn't as collected as he wanted people to see.

Detective Nilsen continued to explain the findings that she and her team had collected over the last few days, going through her case file page by page and showing them some of their highlighted clues and their most probable lead.

As experienced as Detective Nilsen on the missing person investigation, this case had significantly put a dent in her otherwise perfect record. The information that they retrieved from Emma's statement was crucial, seeing that she was the last person to see Troye before he was gone. But as much as Emma had cooperated and give them every little information that she recalled from that night, they were still insufficient to build a case against anybody. The list of suspect was none; the findings didn't point them to any probable suspect, none with strong motives anyway.

This was what had stumped Detective Nilsen the most. After Troye had been abducted, there had been no lead to be followed up; no ransoms, no phone calls, no clues at all. Which led her to believe that this was one of the rare crime of passion. Her deductions had had her believe Troye had been taken away by a fan whom may have suffered from mental illness or a serious case of mad infatuation.

Suspects with mental illness usually followed a pattern but sometimes, as dreadful as it may sound, was quite unpredictable. But one thing they have in common was their vulnerable mind and were easily provoked, which meant that they would be careless, they would and should have messed up somehow and leave trails of clues for the police to find. It's sufficed to say that Troye's kidnapper was none of those. He was precise, eloquent and knew exactly when and where Troye will be.

The surveillance camera outside of the hotel shown that Troye had come rushing out of the door at 4.15am, and by 4.19am a black figure came out from where he was lurking about, in the shadows under a tree not far away. Troye didn't have a chance to see his attacker, let alone struggle as he was very quickly drugged. He collapsed in the suspect's arms before he was dragged into a black car and drove off.

The trail ended when the car drove off to some shady alleyway and with no plate number caught on camera, it was almost impossible to trace where the car had gone. They have questioned every employee of the hotel and rewatched all their surveillance tapes of that night and the weeks before that to see if they can spot any suspicious incidence that occured in and the vicinity of the hotel but their efforts were all in vain. Troye's kidnapper was good, too good even, and Detective Nilsen and her team had done everything they could.

"You know what? I think this is bullshit! There must be something that you haven't done! Something that you must have missed!"

Tyler shouted as he launched himself away from the east wall where he was leaning on.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing other than spewing out a whole lot of bullshit. You can't expect us to just cross our arms together and be okay with it!" He continued as he paced back and forth, his trembling hands run through his already messy hair. "Troye is out there somewhere, alone with his kidnapper for TEN DAYS! He's out there, waiting for us to rescue him and you're telling us to pretend that he's already dead? You are one hell of a Detective. Instead of briefing us with your stupid findings, why don't you make good use of your time and go out there and do your fucking job?!"

Everyone in the room was startled by Tyler's little outburst. Some nodded in agreement but most of them just stayed silent. This kind of behaviour was normal to be expected from the victim's loved ones. It's not the first time they encountered it and most definitely won't be the last.

"Tyler, stop." Emma went to Tyler and placed a comforting hand on his back to try and calm him down a little. "Just calm down. I know you're worried, so do I and everyone else in the room but with you breaking down now won't help. I promise, Detective Nilsen is the best person for the job. She has the highest closed case with lowest mortality."

Still breathing a little heavily, Tyler looked at Emma, his face a picture of bewilderment as he wondered how Emma can be so wise and rationally calm when in reality she was only a couple of years older than him. "Come on, let's go get some breather, alright? Clear your mind for a bit."

Tyler nodded and let Emma ushered him out of the room. They took the elevator to the first floor, heading to the hotel lounge and sat at the very empty bar. Emma flagged down the bartender and ordered a neat whisky before she returned her attention to Tyler.

"How are you feeling?"

"As well as a blind man on a race course." He replied just as the bartender came back with the drink. Emma pushed the glass towards Tyler and he raised his eyebrow at her in question.

"I think you needed some help to calm your nerves."

"No thanks. I'm not really the neat whisky kind of guy."

"Yeah, maybe. But now you are. Drink up."

Looking at Emma's determined expression, Tyler grabbed the glass filled with the amber liquid and took a big swig out of it. He winced as he felt the heat burn his insides but the whisky was not as dreadful as he thought. He took another gulp and waited for the returning burn but it was more tolerable than the first.

"What about you? Here, have some." He offered the glass to Emma.

"Oh, I'm fine. I just don't drink when I'm working."

"But you're not working." He retorted.

"Technically, I am. Troye's my client and I'm his manager. I'm supposed to take care of him but instead, I let him go out alone in the wee hours in that vulnerable state. I just.. I could have prevented this. So until Troye comes home to us, I am still on the clock. I will do everything I can to make sure he comes home to us, to you."

"It's not your fault, Em. If anything, it's mine. Totally and undeniably my fault. I shouldn't have said those things to him. I shouldn't have told him all those awful-"

"Tyler, shush. You are not allowed to beat yourself up over something that you couldn't have foreseen. There's absolutely no way you could have known Troye will be taken."

The silence that followed was surprisingly awkward as both of them realised that they were doing the same thing of consoling the other person and taking the blame for themselves. But what Emma doesn't know was the reason why Tyler had said what he said that night. He wasn't trying to hide it from Emma, but after what happened, he didn't think the time was appropriate.

The truth was, Tyler felt extremely responsible for what happened to Troye. He hurt Troye. He broke the promise that he made to Troye by breaking his heart that night. He's the reason why Troye was vulnerable. Who knows what might have happened but all he knew was that if he didn't breakup with Troye over the phone that night, Troye wouldn't have to catch the red-eye flight back, he wouldn't be on the street that night and the crazy kidnapper wouldn't have the chance to take him.

He was weak. He couldn't withstand the pressure of being with Troye and most of all, he couldn't stand the idea of Troye losing everything he had worked very hard for.

The letters started coming around two years ago. Letters that arrived at his cafe and at his apartment that he shared with Troye. Letters that addressed specifically to Mathew Tyler Oakley, not Tyler Oakley. Letters that told many tales of him, since he was as young as three years old, every little embarrassing and shameful detail in his life growing up as a boy. Tales of his relationship with his father and how they never reconciled after the dark period on his graduation day. Those letters, they also hold many intimate moments between him and Troye, with photos capturing them in their serene satiated state after sex to their happy faces when they laughed at each other's jokes on a casual day.

They were particularly precise, every letter were designed to make Tyler feel uncomfortable at first but then the feeling of uncomfort slowly fester into something worrisome and scary. Like a horror film, slowly building up the paranoia and suddenly twisted into a much deadlier plot before revealing the ultimate motive.

Those letters, they threatened to destroy Troye and everything that he cared for.

Tyler was given a choice, an ultimatum; ignore the letters and they will all be sent out to every media in every corner of the world, exposing every sordid detail of his and Troye's pasts, hence breaking everything that Troye had built for himself.

Or

He could end his relationship with Troye. And in turn would buy the silence of the sender.

He had to do it. He had to break Troye's heart in order to protect everything else. He had to do what he thought was right at the moment, but what he had never anticipated was what he thought was right would lead to Troye's disappearance.

He had forced a terrible choice upon Troye without realising it and now all was lost.

Draining the last drop of the whisky, he threw the glass on the table in frustration and it landed on the bar table with a loud clunk. He needed to get out of here, to get actual breather. He turned and left the lounge in an aimless rush, leaving Emma behind with the bartender and the other patrons in the lounge. When he almost reaches the lobby door, he bumped into one of the officer involved in Troye's case. The force of impact had caused Tyler to knock over the hefty box in the officer's arms, the box he presumed to have contained evidence from Troye's investigation. True enough, mountains of newspapers and magazines came spilling onto the floor and pictures of Troye's angular and handsome face splayed across every front cover. They made Tyler's heart clenched in a painful way and he almost looked away when the headline of tone of the magazine suddenly caught his eyes.

Troye Sivan's Blue Orchid Lover!

Sounds of hearts breaking can be heard from both males and females as Troye confirms his status as unavailable via a more subtle way.

He had been very secretive about his personal relationship but it's secret no more!

In an exclusive interview with him right after his world tour, Troye had joined us and answered some of our questions and he had so subtly told us about his love interest.

When asked about the Blue Orchid and its significance, Troye didn't deny that it came from someone important but his startling response and cheeky smile after told us as much.

Before Tyler had the time to finish reading, he was distracted by images that flashed through his mind like stray bullets fired in the dark. It kept coming and coming, his brain can hardly catch up but the more the images appear, the faster his heart beats and the heavier his breathing gets.

Blue orchids.

*flash*

"Oh, this is really beautiful. Did you plant them yourself?"

"How I wish. Not that I'm a green finger but even if I want to, I can't. The weather is too harsh here."

"Really? That sucks. Troye would have loved these. Blue is his favourite colour."

*flash*

"You know, Troye and I, we're very thankful for your generosity and discretion. These few weeks here had been wonderful. The breathtaking view and endless supply of red wine, just heavenly."

"Don't mention it. Our fathers were like brothers. It's the least I can do."

*flash*

"My family cabin is not far from New York. Maybe if you and Troye wanna stay away from the limelight for a while, just let me know. I'll arrange someone to receive you."

"Oh, I would definitely take you up on your offer someday."

Tyler felt his knees buckle and he felt dizzy from the onslaught of memories from before. Memories that connected all the dots and completed every missing puzzle that had been bugging him for so long. Oh God, Troye!

He snapped back to reality when he heard his name being called multiple times by the young officer.

"Mr Oakley? Oh my god I'm so sorry. I should have been more careful of where I was going. I'm such a klutz. Probably why I'm on inventory duty. Even though I graduated the academy on top of my class but my mom always say book smart doesn't mean street smart and so, here I am, being my klutzy self again and-"

"Stop, STOP! Errr.. Officer..?"

"Oh, right, you don't know who am I. Uh, sorry. I'm Officer Pierce. You can call me Ben."

"Okay, Ben. Listen, I need your help. Do you have a pen and paper?"

Officer Pierce fished out his notepad and a pen with his clumsy hands before Tyler snatched them from him and began scribbling on the notepad. After he was done, he tore the page and shove one piece of paper into Officer Pierce's hand.

"Get this message to Emma, tell her to get the brown box in my closet. There's some letters in there that might be of use to you and your team for your investigation." He spoke like a speeding train, barely catching his breath by the end of it. He then proceeded to tear the second page and shove it into the still dumbfounded officer's hands again.

"And this is the name of the guy whom I think has Troye. Please, get them to your boss and send help immediately."

"What? But..but how? Who? What is going-?"

"Look, Ben. I have no time to explain. I'm going to the place where I think Troye was taken. I've already written down the location but I can't wait any longer. I need to go to him, right now!"

"No, no.. But you can't. Mr Oakley!"

"Ben, listen to me. I need you to trust me and I need you to get this message to your team and send backups. I'm putting Troye's life and now my life in your hands. You are responsible for two lives right now. And Ben?"

"Yes?"

"Don't mess this up."

And with that, Tyler turned on his heels and rushed out the door, leaving a very flabbergasted officer in the lobby, now burdened with two very important tasks. Ben tried taking in all that was thrown upon his shoulders and with a few blinks, he muttered a string of shits and oh my gods under his breath whilst sprinting upstairs to pass on Tyler's incredibly cryptic messages. He prayed to the lords in the heavens above that he's doing the right thing. He really, really can't afford to mess this up.

The sound of cutlery clinking against the flat white dinner plate echoed across the room. Troye was currently seated at the dinner table, his hands and legs were securely tied to the armrests and the legs of the chair. His stomach grumbled as he looked at the knife cutting into a big piece of juicy steak, slicing the meat into smaller cuts and being offered one in front of his mouth.

"Open up, Troye."

Troye shut his mouth in defiant even though his stomach protested.

"Come on, you need to eat. You're practically starving."

Troye didn't want to give in to the temptation. He closed his eyes next, in hopes to convey his rebellion against his captor.

"Oh, Troye. Don't be like that. I've spend a lot of time preparing this feast for us. We have a special occasion to celebrate tonight." He said, his voice casual and friendly.

"Why are you doing this, Charles?"

"Do what?"

"This! All this pretence that I'm not bound in this fucking chair and you didn't kidnap me and kept me here against my will. And that you wanna pretend nothing is wrong and kept on playing house with me!"

"Why I wouldn't say what I did was 'kidnapping' you. Why don't you look at it this way? I'm merely keeping you safe here until I know for sure you won't run away from me." His voice was sultry and calm, it made it all the more eerie.

"You're delusional, Charles. You abducted me outside of the hotel and brought me here, tied me up without my consent and drugged me all the time. Of course I wanna run away from you. You're fucking insane!"

"Now, now. Don't need to raise your voice. You're gonna tire yourself before the night ends. I have something special planned for tonight."

"What happened to you, Charles? This isn't like you. Please stop this. There's still time to undo all of this."

"Why would I wanna undo any of this? I have been waiting for this day a long time. Ever since you came to my vineyard, I had a revelation. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I started imagining us being together, picturing our future, us against the world, and it was a gloriously beautiful. Won't you agree? So I started planning for it."

He placed the cutlery down on the table before turning to look at Troye, his face a picture of excitement as he recalled his crazy scheming.

"The first thing I do is keeping track of all your movements. I know you're a superstar and you're always on the road. But I found a way to overcome that obstacle, pretty easily actually. Who knows a little bugging device will do such wonders!" He chuckled by himself as Troye looked at him with widen eyes.

The orchids, he thought. That's how Charles was keeping track of him. The orchids which presumably harmless was actually allowing Charles to invade his privacy, every fucking night.

"But of course, I could have chosen any other flowers. I mean, those orchids cost me a fortune but I've been quite fond of the blue orchids myself. I think the meaning behind it is more significant than anything else. Do you know what it signifies?"

Troye couldn't speak. He couldn't process the things that are coming out of Charles' mouth. After a few beat of silence, Charles let out a disappointed sigh before he spoke again.

"Oh Troye, I've spend a lot of money delivering those flowers to you every night in the past years, the least you could do is look it up on Google or something. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"You can keep those stupid flowers. I don't want them." Troye spat out but his words seemed to have not reach Charles as he continued his own monologue.

"It is the symbol of decadence, elegance and luxury. Just like you, Troye. Every time you're on stage, you are so beautiful, you shine brighter than all the stars in the galaxy combined. Absolutely breathtaking."

"You're sick, Charles. You need to go get help. Your father wouldn't want you to be like this!"

"My father?" He snapped at Troye at the mention of his father. After a short pause, Charles let out the most hair-standing, maniacal laugh Troye has ever heard.

"My father is the reason why I'm like this. He was the most homophobic person I have ever known. The first time I told him I was gay, I was beaten until I passed out because my body couldn't withstand the pain. I woke up the next morning with cuts and bruises all over my body and our family doctor tending to my wounds. I was twelve."

"Since then, he had been trying to 'fix' me and beat the gay out of me. He said it was his duty to protect our family name and keep our blood running longer than my generation. What an utter bull crap. He just didn't want people to know he had a gay son!" He started chuckling again, then slowly turned into a full blown laugh that left him heaving and breathless.

"Oh my, what a great time to reminisce my father's greatest moments. You know, he's the reason why we're celebrating! Tonight is the anniversary of my long-deserved freedom." Troye shuddered as cold chill spread across his body when he looked at Charles and spotted the deranged look swimming in his eyes.

"Tonight, is the anniversary of my father's death."

Troye would have gasped aloud if his throat wasn't already so dry. The knowledge of what tonight had meant, together with the fact that Charles seemed to gain satisfaction from his own father's death was frighteningly bone-chilling.

"And oh, his death was recorded as death by internal injuries because he fell down the flight of stairs at our home. The local newspaper, gosh, they should have gotten their facts right. I mean, after the intense fight I had with him that afternoon, when I told him I've had enough of his abuse, he blew up at me and told me he would disinherit me and strip me of my family name. I can't let that happen. I didn't endure all of his bullshit just to be robbed of what's mine!" He said with a raised voice, fist clenched before hitting the table with a loud bang. Then the anger in his face was wiped and replaced with calmness in less than five seconds.

"So, I pushed him. I pushed him and saw his frail body rolled down the stairs, step by step, until he landed on the bottom and everything went quiet. At that moment I felt that the quiet that I've yearned for was finally here. The peace that I've always wished for had finally come true. He can no longer touch me. I am free!" He finished with a wide smile, as if reliving how he killed his father had made him extremely happy again. And that just made Troye more desperate to escape.

"Charles, I'm sorry that those awful things happened to you and nobody came to help you. I really am. But those things have nothing to do with me. Please, let me go."

"Don't you see, Troye? You are the one who helped me. All those years of abuse and loneliness were made much more bearable because of you! When you first debuted, I recognized you immediately. Then when I learnt about your songs, your coming out story, they gave me hope. Because of you, I'm able to learn to accept myself, love myself even. And because of you I know that I'm not crazy or confused or an abomination. God forbid I let my father tells me otherwise!"

His words seeped the coldness into the very core of Troye's being like dry ice, clawing rudely at his every nerve. He felt his desperation growing as his will to be strong wilting away. Exhaustion began to blur his mind, his hopes started diminishing like the light in the sky during dusk, slowly inching into twilight. Tears began to ripple down his sullen cheeks as he begged his captor for some mercy.

"Charles, please. Please, let me go! I don't want to be here. I want to be with my family. Don't you remember them? My parents, my brothers and sister, and Tyler!"

"Tyler? Do you think Tyler cares about you? In fact, do you really think any of them care for you? If they did, why aren't there coming to your rescue, huh? Where are your lovely family and your precious Tyler, huh? I bet they were relieve of finally gotten rid of you and sat around a campfire singing kumbaya!"

Troye whimpered softly. As false as those hurtful words were, they still cause a dark cloud to loom over his head and his heart sank a little.

"There's no one in the world that cares and loves you like I do. Trust me, Troye. I will take care of you and we shall be together and we're gonna be so free and happy!"

"Fuck you! I will never love you. My love already belonged to someone else and it isn't you and it won't be you, you son of a bitch!" Troye shouted angrily, not caring if his words will provoke the mad man further. If he's going to spend the rest of his life with this utter nutcase, he'd rather end it.

In a blink Charles stormed towards Troye and gripped his jaw with a strength that felt almost bone crushing. He was breathing heavily against Troye's face, their distance only inches apart.

"Oh, I know all about you and your precious Tilly."

The mention of Tyler's nickname have had Troye's attention.

"Your Tilly is useless, weak! A little threat going his way and he had his tail between his legs, cowering like a wet puppy. He doesn't love you. He broke up with you, didn't he?" Charles let his words set in as he bore his eyes into Troye's crying ones. His other free hand landed on Troye's shoulder, slowly tracing his fingers down Troye's torso. "I, on the other hand, can show you how it would feel to be with a real man." And his hand reached the bottom of his shirt before slithering his fingers upwards to touch Troye's bare skin.

"Please, please, please, Charles. I beg you. Please, don't." Troye had his eyes shut, his mouth never stopped begging for Charles to stop. He was scared of what's going to happen next. The feeling of Charles fingers on him made his empty stomach clench and his skin crawl. He was crying and praying for a miracle to appear, to save him from this animal. Charles continued to trace his disgusting fingers towards his crotch then suddenly, they stopped, then gone.

"Fuck! What a lousy timing. Things were only started to get hot around here." Charles swore as he stood up from where he was crouching and peaked out the window to look at the source of their interruption. Troye literally had no time to think why Charles had stopped because soon enough, he heard it. Someone was here. They finally found him. His heart soared through the air and he felt a surge of adrenaline fuelling up his otherwise tired body. His hopes were renewed and he was more determined than ever to survive and be reunited with his family.

"Troye? Troye, are you in there?" And his heart sank. Tyler. No!

"Wow, I must say I'm impressed. Your precious little boyfriend is here all by himself. Well, wouldn't wanna be rude for not inviting our guest in, right, darling?" He said as he stuffed the dinner napkin into Troye's mouth and went to the drawer in the next room to retrieve a loaded glock.

Troye struggled desperately against his binding, trying to free himself while he screamed for Tyler to run. But all was not heard as his screams were useless against the napkin gagging his mouth. He focused on listening for any sound of struggling but there were none. Not knowing what was going on in the other room was worrying him to no end. He's scared and nervous. The feeling of anxiety crawling out of his skin. Then he saw Tyler walked into the room and he was standing very still at the other end, away from where Troye was.

And with the gun pointed at the back of his head.

"Troye.." Tyler voice was soft. And Troye thought he was imagining things because he'd never think that anyone could still smile like Tyler did when there's a fucking gun pointed at his head. But he did. He was smiling out of sheer relief that he had found Troye alive, despite the circumstances.

When he first made the connection and realised who the culprit behind this whole agenda, Tyler knew he had to to act alone because it'll be a lot faster to get to Troye. So he took a risk to not wait for Detective Nilsen and her team and came as fast as he could.

"Well, well, well. Tyler, I have to say I underestimated you. Didn't think you're bright enough to find us." Charles spoke with a very different demeanor than when he spoke to Troye. Condescending, almost.

"Charlie, Charlie.. Please, let Troye go." Tyler begged. "Please, let him go."

"Well, it's rude to ask such things to your host in the very first minute you're here, isn't that right, Troye, darling?"

"Please, Charlie. Please, I beg you. I'll take his place! And.. And.. I'd do anything you want. Just, let Troye go."

Troye started struggling in his chair again and screamed his muffled pleas for Charles to not hurt Tyler. But that had only earned another laugh that should belong in a mad house.

"Really? You'd do anything? That's either a very brave or very stupid thing to say, depending on how you see it. Sit."

And Tyler sat on a chair, his eyes flicking back and forth between Troye and Charles and kept careful eyes on what the delirious man was going to do next.

"And luckily for me, I came prepared. Couldn't leave it to chance that my plan would be interrupted by little pest like you, could I?" He then produced a clear vial that contained a blue liquid from his pocket and spoke again.

"Here, take this." And threw the vial into Tyler's hand. Feeling the smooth bottle in his hand, Tyler had a bad feeling about what the blue liquid will do. But Tyler didn't have time to worry about that. He'll do just about anything if it ensures Troye's release.

"Well, initially wanted this to come in play later tonight for Troye and I but I guess it will make an earlier appearance now."

"What is this?" Tyler questioned.

"Oh, thought you'd never ask!" The crazy gleam in his eyes returned before he walked over to Troye and release the napkin from his mouth. "That, my dear Tyler, is a drug that would help you dream of the things that you want most. Dreams that make you smile, your heart flutter and make you feel as light as a feather. It will take you to your heaven... and never come back to your pathetic little life."

Tyler knew what that meant and he flicked his eyes from the bottle to Troye. His heart gave a painful tug when he saw Troye's frighten eyes looking back at him. "But what if I don't want heaven?"

The corner of Charles lips lifted up into a sinister smile and in a calm voice, he said, "Then I will bring Troye to heaven with me."

"No!" Tyler and Troye shouted at the same time, even thought they were directed at different things.

"No, Tyler! Don't do it!" Troye then craned his neck to the side. "Please Charles, don't hurt Tyler, please let him go, please, please I beg you. I'll be good, I promise I'll go with you, anywhere you want."

Ignoring Troye's sobbing pleas, he gripped onto Troye's jaw and turned it forcefully to look at Tyler in front of them. "Come on Tyler, show me how brave you are! Show me how far you would go in the name of love! Drink the drug!

"No, Tyler. No!"

"Drink it!"

"Don't, Tyler! Oh God, please Charles. Please stop!"

"DRINK IT!"

Crunching his eyes shut, Tyler took a deep breath and summoned all the strength and courage to place the vial of liquid guilt on his lips.

"NOOOOOO!"