[Apparently Connor is not okay enough that the landscape immediately shifts again. Look, now everyone is in a computer lab. How many characters here even know what that is, actually?
It doesn't matter, because Connor's holding a piece of paper and talking to the striped shirt kid from the previous memory. At least Evan's not a hallucination this time, so there's that.]
So, um. What happened to your arm?
Oh, I, um. Fell out of a tree, actually.
Fell out of a tree? [Connor sounds a little like he wants to laugh, but he doesn't.] That is just the saddest fucking thing I ever heard, oh my god.
I know.
[Evan is visibly uncomfortable with what's going on, and Connor pauses awkwardly, like he regrets saying anything. Then, Connor blatantly pushes forward with whatever he was hoping to get out of the interaction to begin with. Surprisingly, for anyone who's talked to Connor, he sounds genuinely friendly.]
No one's signed your cast!
I know.
Well, I'll sign it.
You don't have to.
[Like Evan didn't even say anything:] Do you have a sharpie?
[Evan awkwardly produces a sharpie from his pocket and holds it out at arm's length. Connor steps closer and takes it before roughly jerking Evan's arm towards him.]
Ow!
[Connor looks genuinely taken aback for a moment and more gently writes his name in . . . giant letters across Evan's cast. In case anyone was wondering how to spell it? That's how to spell it. Evan seems, uh. Unenthused? About this turn of events.]
Oh. Great . . . thanks . . .
Yeah, well. Now we can both pretend that we have friends.
. . . Good point.
[Evan takes the sharpie from Connor and turns to leave when Connor thrusts out the piece of paper he's been holding the entire time.]
Is this yours? I found it on the printer: "Dear Evan Hansen." That's your name, right?
[Evan appears slightly panicked, and Connor looks down at the paper, presumably reading it.]
Oh, that's just a stupid. It's just a paper I had to write for a, um, for an assignment . . .
"Because there's Zoe." [Connor looks up at Evan, his expression . . . complicated.] Is this about my sister?
No! Not at all!
You wrote this because you knew I would find it.
[Where Connor looked confused and maybe a little hurt before, now he looks livid.]
What?
You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out so that I would find it!
Why would I do that?
[Evan seems slightly frightened at this point, and Connor is straight up panicking. He has progressed from being angry into a full-blown panic attack.]
So that I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right? And then you can tell everyone I'm crazy, right?
No, wait. I don't even - what?
Fuck you!
[Connor storms off, still holding the piece of paper, when Evan is scrambling to follow, yelling about how he needs the paper back.]
2. make me more than an abandoned memory (cw: panic attacks)
It doesn't matter, because Connor's holding a piece of paper and talking to the striped shirt kid from the previous memory. At least Evan's not a hallucination this time, so there's that.]
So, um. What happened to your arm?
Oh, I, um. Fell out of a tree, actually.
Fell out of a tree? [Connor sounds a little like he wants to laugh, but he doesn't.] That is just the saddest fucking thing I ever heard, oh my god.
I know.
[Evan is visibly uncomfortable with what's going on, and Connor pauses awkwardly, like he regrets saying anything. Then, Connor blatantly pushes forward with whatever he was hoping to get out of the interaction to begin with. Surprisingly, for anyone who's talked to Connor, he sounds genuinely friendly.]
No one's signed your cast!
I know.
Well, I'll sign it.
You don't have to.
[Like Evan didn't even say anything:] Do you have a sharpie?
[Evan awkwardly produces a sharpie from his pocket and holds it out at arm's length. Connor steps closer and takes it before roughly jerking Evan's arm towards him.]
Ow!
[Connor looks genuinely taken aback for a moment and more gently writes his name in . . . giant letters across Evan's cast. In case anyone was wondering how to spell it? That's how to spell it. Evan seems, uh. Unenthused? About this turn of events.]
Oh. Great . . . thanks . . .
Yeah, well. Now we can both pretend that we have friends.
. . . Good point.
[Evan takes the sharpie from Connor and turns to leave when Connor thrusts out the piece of paper he's been holding the entire time.]
Is this yours? I found it on the printer: "Dear Evan Hansen." That's your name, right?
[Evan appears slightly panicked, and Connor looks down at the paper, presumably reading it.]
Oh, that's just a stupid. It's just a paper I had to write for a, um, for an assignment . . .
"Because there's Zoe." [Connor looks up at Evan, his expression . . . complicated.] Is this about my sister?
No! Not at all!
You wrote this because you knew I would find it.
[Where Connor looked confused and maybe a little hurt before, now he looks livid.]
What?
You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out so that I would find it!
Why would I do that?
[Evan seems slightly frightened at this point, and Connor is straight up panicking. He has progressed from being angry into a full-blown panic attack.]
So that I would read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right? And then you can tell everyone I'm crazy, right?
No, wait. I don't even - what?
Fuck you!
[Connor storms off, still holding the piece of paper, when Evan is scrambling to follow, yelling about how he needs the paper back.]