𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙯
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𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘴 𝘯𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘢 𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣
, 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝙥𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙨
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Independent portrayal of Miguel from the Dear Evan Hansen Book
—one of them. He was a great guy....an amazing guy. Please kid, come clean, tell the truth. This is truly a mess and if you just come clean. Don't turn him into a joke. You can avenge his death without lying."
Miguel listened, his head turned down, his eyes closed. He was trying to collect himself. He listened carefully to Evan's explanation.
While his eyes were closed, it felt like everything else intensified. Every movement on his wound felt like lighting coursing through him—
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he wasn’t sure what he could say to make miguel truly trust him . believe him after all that has been done . there aren’t enough words to explain this terrible mistake — this sick , sick game he’d decided to play .
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“ i — knew him . “ did he ? or was this another ( + )
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—believe you." He looked up from the floor and into evans eyes. His chocolate brown orbs glassy and wet from all the tears that he let spill out of them.
"Connor did need friends, he was dealing with a lot, but he was also kind of a loner. He had huge demons, me probably being—
He never intended to sound so broken, be so vulnerable. Slowly but surely he was losing his tough gut act. Connor meant so much more to him than he was letting on.
He didn't wanna stop, he wanted to walk out, go to the nurse, make up some ridiculous story she'd believe. But instead, he let Evan come closer with the went paper.
Maybe it was because he just emotionally and physically drained himself; or maybe it was that sad look in his—
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he flinched , eyes closed tight & hands flying towards his face , creating a barrier over it . shards flew everywhere , scattered over the grimy linoleum & the watery sinks .
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evan stared at the redden flesh of miguel’s hand for a second , before looking ( + )
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- him? You wouldn't do this for a complete and total stranger. No one, not even you....mr blue eyes can be that nice. So tell me, make me less mad. I wanna belive you had good intentions.... please... Connor deserved someone with good intentions... he shouldn't be used..."
When Miguel heard those words he snapped. He got up and marched over to evan, his hand balled in a fist. He was never one to be violent. But something just snapped. His broken heart, this disgusting web of lies.
But insted of punching evan he punched a mirror. It shattered. He—
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“ then go ahead . “ blinks , sky hues noticing the misty look on the other’s eyes . the wetness over his cheeks & the redness of his skin . angry , fuming . he could tell .
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he sighs , walking over towards the dirty sinks , catching a glimpse of himself on the ( + )
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—school"
He began walking to the exit. His brown eyes red and puffy, his voice horse from all the shouting, his body language weak and wounded.
"I loved him, so you can imagine how this makes me feel. This makes me feel like there could've been hope for me and him....if i had—
—that has legitimate proof! Trust me, they would know im telling the truth. Besides, Cynthia herself told me about his suicide. She told me over tea; they fucking know me!"
Miguel covers his face, sliding down. It was his turn to be on the floor. With his face covered, it was hard to tell if the sounds coming from him were laughs or sobs. In reality it was a bit of both; and isn't that when you've tuly gone mad? When you don't know whether to laugh—
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words kept getting stuck on his throat , clawing around & refusing to get out . every words stung much more than the last , feeling like low blows to evan’s body .
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he never thought he would encounter someone like miguel — someone with a different point of view . ( + )
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—he knows its wrong but this is truly ridiculous!
"Kid me and Connor went to an all boys private school sophomore year. Im the reason their son ended up in rehab, i have the phone records from when we called. I can show them old pictures we have. Me and Connor have a history—