Tumgik
#little sage sat in the cafeteria at work
laski-and-sage · 2 years
Text
TJ: Y'know... I understand if you wanna go vegetarian or vegan- Your thing! But if I have my steak on my plate and you gonna beg me not to eat it... what's the use of it?
Pip: Try to... convince you?
TJ:
TJ: The cow is already dead, cooked and right in front of me. If you can bring that thing back to life I'll give you the steak! But... damn! Dead is dead!
12 notes · View notes
fictionally-driven · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Chapter 2: Purple Sage
pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader
trigger warnings: violence, blood, murder, imprisonment, suggestive, ptsd, mentions of child abuse, false convictions, recovery, anxiety, scamming
AN: If anyone wants to be a part of the taglist for this series, please let me know via comments/reblogs or asks. Reblogs of the work are always appreciated. Thank you!
Tumblr media
Prev chapter | | Chapter list | | Next chapter
Tumblr media
Wriothesley closed the file with a heavy thud, a deep frown etched across his face. (Y/N) was her name; he’d gathered that from the file. She was a florist, which explained why she had seemed quite annoyed about the flowers when she stumbled against him that evening in Fontaine. Her records up until recently were clean—those of a law-abiding citizen. But the last few pages of the file painted a damning picture: she’d been convicted of the murder of a merchant.
The case was laid out methodically, almost too neatly. The merchant, a man with whom (Y/N) had a known feud over business disputes, had met a gruesome end. The bouquet of Lumidouce Bells and edible flowers was sprayed with the toxic concentrate of Lily of the Valley, a deadly concoction. He had touched the flowers, unwittingly transferring the poison onto his skin, and then used the edible flowers to make tea. The poison took its toll swiftly, leaving little room for doubt.
The investigation had moved quickly. The merchant's son-in-law was the first to raise suspicions, his voice ringing loud and clear in the aftermath of the merchant's death. The body was analyzed in the morgue, revealing traces of the toxic concentrate. Vials of similar toxins were found in the backroom of (Y/N)'s flower shop, seemingly sealing her fate. She insisted on her innocence, claiming she had delivered the flowers to a servant, but the evidence was damning. The court sentenced her to twenty-five years in Meropide.
Wriothesley placed the closed file to the side, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the desk. Everything was too convenient, too perfect in its damning assembly. He had been informed by the Gardes that Sigewinne had taken (Y/N) to the infirmary after she was tricked for her coupons and given stale food. Anyone in Meropide knew the cafeteria food was free, though randomized. How could someone who allegedly planned a murder so meticulously be naive enough to trust strangers with her coupons?
His curiosity piqued, Wriothesley rose from his chair and made his way to the infirmary. The corridors of Meropide were familiar to him like the back of his hand. After all, for most of his life, it had been his home. The metallic clang of doors and the distant murmur of voices faded into the background as he approached the infirmary.
Inside, Sigewinne was at her desk, humming a cheerful tune as she filed paperwork. The Melusine’s small form was a stark contrast to the grim surroundings, her presence a rare beacon of warmth for the inmates of Meropide. A mug filled with what could only be one of her infamous milkshakes sat beside her, its odd color indicative of her peculiar tastes.
"Your Grace!" Sigewinne beamed as he entered, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Would you like a milkshake? I made it myself."
Wriothesley chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. “No, thank you, Sigewinne. I think I’ll pass.”
Sigewinne’s milkshakes were notorious in Meropide for their peculiar ingredients, which she swore by for their health benefits. Wriothesley had tried them multiple times, and it had taken all his self-control not to gag. He couldn't help but wonder what bizarre ingredients she had blended this time.
"How is she?" he asked, his tone softening.
Sigewinne glanced towards one of the infirmary beds where (Y/N) lay, her face pale and drawn. “She’s resting now. I’ve given her something to settle her stomach and some proper food to regain her strength.” Her expression softened. “She was in pretty bad shape when I brought her in. Dehydration, fatigue, stress… you name it. I have also given something for the blisters on her palms."
Wriothesley walked over to (Y/N)'s bedside, his gaze taking in her fragile state. Even in her weakened condition, there was a quiet strength in her features. His mind drifted back to their encounter in Fontaine. She had been full of life then, her eyes sparking with annoyance and fire. Now, they were closed, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Thank you, Sigewinne," he said, turning back to the Melusine. "Keep an eye on her for me, will you. I have a feeling she’ll need any assistance she can get here to get back on her feet." Wriothesley moved closer, his presence imposing yet gentle. He could see the faint lines of worry on (Y/N)'s forehead, the dark circles under her eyes. She had clearly been through an ordeal.
(Y/N)'s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, confusion clouded her gaze. Then recognition dawned, and she stiffened, clearly remembering their previous encounter. "You," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Wriothesley nodded. "Yes, it's me. I'm Wriothesley, the Warden of Meropide."
Her eyes widened in shock and horror, her voice barely above a whisper. “I... I'm so sorry about your shoes..."
He glanced down at his boots, now cleaned and showing no signs of the events from earlier. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving her apology away. "It's just a pair of shoes, they’re all cleaned up."
She tried to sit up, but Wriothesley clicked his tongue, gently pressing her back down. "Rest. Rest here as long as Sigewinne allows you to. After all, the mattresses here in the infirmary are far more comfortable than the ones in the dorms." He paused, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "But don't tell anyone I said that. I’d get into trouble as the Warden for admitting such things."
A chuckle escaped her lips, a small but genuine sound that seemed to lighten the room as he wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks.
Wriothesley’s expression softened further. "How many coupons did you lose earlier?"
Her gaze wavered, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. He repeated his question, his voice gentle. "You won't get into any trouble, (Y/N). Just tell me who tricked you."
Her gaze became downcast, avoiding his eyes. "I... I don't remember their names," she stammered.
Wriothesley could see she was lying, her eyes wavering and unable to meet his gaze. He decided not to press further. "How much did you lose?" he asked again.
"200," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Wriothesley sighed. He had seen her records and knew that it was her first wage from the production zone. Even now, when she had the opportunity to lie about the credit coupons to inflate their number, she stuck to the truth. He reached into his pocket and handed her 200 coupons.
She shook her head, her eyes widening. "I can't take these," she protested.
"Yes, you can," he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"No, really, I can't," she said, pushing the coupons back towards him. "I don't deserve them."
Wriothesley clicked his tongue again, shaking his head. "You're not in a position to refuse help. Take the coupons. Consider it as me compensating it for damaging your flowers a few days ago.”
"But—" she started.
"No buts," he interrupted. "You need these more than I do."
She hesitated, her hand trembling as she finally took the coupons. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Wriothesley nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just get some rest and recover. We'll figure out the rest later."
(Y/N) let out a very shaky breath, covering her eyes with the back of her arm. Wriothesley could see her lips quiver, understanding that she was holding back her tears. He understood the need for composure despite her vulnerable state.
“It was all a mistake,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “I shouldn’t be here. I… I didn’t kill anyone!”
Wriothesley didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his position pressing down on him. As the Warden, he was expected to remain impartial, to enforce the law without bias. But his conscience whispered that there was truth in her words, something in her demeanor that spoke of sincerity and desperation.
“Be that as it may,” he said carefully, choosing his words with deliberate precision, “if what you say is true, it will eventually come to light. The truth has a way of surfacing, and when it does, you will be a free person.”
(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Who knows how long that will take,” she muttered, frustration lacing her voice.
Wriothesley hummed in agreement. “I can’t change the verdict that’s been passed, but I can assure you that Meropide isn’t as terrible as the surface world makes it out to be.”
(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “My experience says otherwise,” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “I dislike it here. It’s so gloomy, and the constant metal clanking noises startle me. People are rude and hostile. There’s no sunlight, no fresh air, and not a single plant or a shred of greenery here that isn’t mold!” Her words tumbled out in a tense ramble, each complaint pouring from her as if a dam had burst. “Here, everything is gray and lifeless. No offense.”
Wriothesley chuckled softly at her last remark. “Of all the things you could list, you’re concerned about the lack of plants?”
She looked at him, her eyes fierce despite the tears brimming in them. “You’d be surprised how plants can liven up even the dreariest environments,” she retorted. “I miss my flowers and plants. They brought me peace, a sense of normalcy. Even in the worst of times, they were a constant.”
Wriothesley nodded thoughtfully, her words resonating with him. "I suppose you're right," he conceded. "Plants do have a way of brightening up a space."
(Y/N) sighed, the tension in her body slowly ebbing away. "I miss my shop, my work…" she murmured, more to herself than to him. "The smell of fresh flowers, the way the sun would filter through the windows in the morning. It was my sanctuary."
Wriothesley leaned against the infirmary bed, his arms crossed. "Tell me about it," he encouraged, sensing that talking might help ease her distress.
She glanced at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. But she took a deep breath and began. "It wasn't much, just a small shop in a quiet part of Fontaine that I inherited from my grandmother. I grew all the plants myself, tended to them every day. There were always fresh bouquets in the window, and people would come in just to admire them, even if they didn't buy anything. I loved seeing their faces light up. There was this one little girl who would visit every week, just to smell the flowers. It was... peaceful."
Wriothesley listened intently, picturing the vibrant little shop she described. "Sounds like a lovely place," he said softly.
"It was," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "And now... it's all gone."
Wriothesley leaned closer, his expression softening. "Don't give up hope yet," he urged. "If you were wrongfully convicted, then I have faith in the Iudex of Fontaine to uncover the truth. Chief Justice Neuvillette is no longer reliant on the Oratrice. He's thorough and fair. If there is evidence to prove your innocence, he will find it."
She looked at him, a flicker of hope mingling with her lingering despair. "But what if it takes too long? What if it never happens?" she whispered, her voice fragile.
"Once you've recovered and feel well-rested," Wriothesley continued, "come see me in my office. We'll talk more about your case and see what we can do to get you a fair review."
(Y/N) nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Wriothesley turned to Sigewinne, who had been silently watching their exchange. He gave the Melusine a nod, a silent request to take good care of (Y/N). "Keep an eye on her," he said, his voice gentle. "Make sure she gets the care she needs."
"Of course, Your Grace," Sigewinne replied with a warm smile. "She'll be well looked after."
With one last glance at (Y/N), Wriothesley left the infirmary, his mind already racing with thoughts and plans. As he walked through the familiar corridors of Meropide, he mentally prepared himself to write to Neuvillette. He knew that if anyone could uncover the truth, it was Neuvillette. The man's dedication to justice was unparalleled.
Arriving at his office, Wriothesley sat down at his desk, pulling out parchment and ink. His thoughts were focused, determined. He wrote to Neuvillette first, outlining the details of (Y/N)'s case and his concerns about the evidence that seemed too neatly arranged. He trusted Neuvillette's judgment and knew that if anyone could see through a potential miscarriage of justice, it was the Chief Justice.
Next, he penned a request to the Spina di Rosula, something that was second nature to him despite remaining elusive to its boss. He’d often contacted them to make requests for material and goods for Meropide and this time was no different.
Sealing the letters, Wriothesley leaned back in his chair. (Y/N) deserved justice, and he was committed to doing everything in his power to ensure that the truth was uncovered. Meropide might be a place of punishment, but it was also a place where hope could still thrive in the form of second chances and a reset, whichever was to one’s liking. He handed the letters to his trusted Gardes as he retired for the day.
The corridors of Meropide seemed a little less cold as he made his way back to his quarters. The clang of metal doors and the murmur of voices faded into the background, his thoughts focused on the task ahead. He would ensure that (Y/N)'s voice was heard, and that if she was indeed innocent, she would find her freedom once more.
Tumblr media
Prev chapter | | Chapter list | | Next chapter
Tumblr media
taglist: - @local-x-reader
Tumblr media
42 notes · View notes
dessarious · 5 years
Text
Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt50
Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU
AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next
The rest of the week was fairly uneventful until Friday. Adrien had grown sullen and quiet for the most part around the time that Discorde had shown up. Right after Damian had helped Ladybug break into the mansion the boy had been in a panic for days. Accusing everyone of stealing something from his room. He refused to say what but Damian had his suspicions. Giving that he’d stopped accusing Damian specifically as soon as the new black cat showed up was a rather obvious tell. Marinette refused to confirm his hunch.
Friday during lunch Damian actually stayed at the school for once. He’d been trying to avoid Luka and Marinette made sure he was always at her house when it was likely Damian would be there. When he brought it up she just gave him an innocent look and said she just wanted to have her friends around as much as possible because she had so few of them now. She wouldn’t admit to forcing them together, but he knew that was her goal.
That was how he ended up listening to a debate between his classmates, Adrien included, about which holder was better and why Ladybug had a new partner to begin with. The fact that any of them questioned the why made him once again want to stab people for their stupidity.
“That’s ridiculous! Of course Ladybug replaced him. All he was doing near the end was making her job harder. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was working with Hawkmoth to try and defeat her.” It was a good theory actually especially given who they were, but if the hurt and anger on Adrien’s face was any indication it wasn’t a correct one.
“That’s insane, Chat never would have sided with Hawkmoth. So what if he decided to have a little fun during attacks? It’s not like there’s any real damage once Ladybug casts her cure. Maybe if she’d just paid more attention to his feelings they’d have been more productive.” Just about everyone was looking at him like he’d lost his mind, and that included the ones her were defending the former hero.
“Being a hero is serious business and the last thing anyone needs is someone screwing around when they should be protecting people. What if one day Ladybug’s cure doesn’t work? What if the damage stays for some reason?” Damian really hadn’t meant to get into this debate but hearing this from someone that had fancied themselves and hero pissed him off to no end. “What if his playing at being a hero got one or both of them killed? Oh wait that’s right, he did get himself killed on a regular basis didn’t he? Or mind controlled, or trapped, the list goes on. Chat Noir was good at one thing and one thing only, and that was harassing girls that wanted nothing to do with him.”
“You take that back!” While not unexpected Adrien’s outburst sank Damian’s opinion of him even lower. He honestly hadn’t thought that was possible. “If Ladybug would have just admitted her feelings for him none of this would have happened. She’s the selfish one, turning him down over and over again instead of just giving him a chance and admitting she was wrong!”
Everyone in the room was either edging away from the boy or glaring at him. For his part Damian sent a text to Marinette and Chloe for good measure to let them know there was likely to be an Akuma very shortly, unless of course Gabriel had some reason not to Akumatize his son. It certainly wouldn’t be because he cared about him but perhaps it wouldn’t look good for his brand if the sunshine boy became a villain. Being targeted by them would gain sympathy but even knowing that Hawkmoths victims weren’t given a choice it wouldn’t play well with international buyers and there were a lot of them in town for the fashion show this weekend. It might also hurt his chances to recruit the Functional Fashion designer.
As they made it through lunch with out any purple butterflies showing up Damian took it as more proof that Hawkmoth and Gabriel Agreste were in fact the same person. Sure Hawkmoth didn’t Akumatize every person who got upset but this school was known as his favorite target and there were more students with bad feelings right now than just Adrien. For his part the boy just sat there and pouted for the rest of the break, but at least he wasn’t still spouting nonsense.
Talk in the cafeteria slowly came back to life with a different subject which was of course, the fashion show. Even people who generally had no opinion on the subject felt the need to chime in about one subject and that was the big reveal. Functional Fashion had been a huge hit with people who hated the fashion industry for making clothes that weren’t in any way practical not to mention cost more than most people made in a year. So naturally there was a running debate about which fashion house they would go to, if any.
“There’s no way they’ll end up working for one of the major brands. They’ve said multiple times they’re happy working on commission without a big name to bloat their prices.”
“Then why do a major reveal at all? They could just announce their identity on their website and be done with it. This seems like a ploy to get attention from the fashion community.”
“Well it is a show for amateur and up and coming designers so it is a bit of a shitty move to put that much attention on yourself rather than the people who need it.”
“What if they were going to put their pieces in the show but were afraid they’d be figured out anyway? Maybe this is just so they can do things on their own terms.”
It kept going on and on. Damian didn’t add to the conversation and neither did Adrien though he did look rather interested in it. Damian did wonder how Marinette had convinced someone so set on secrecy to show up in public like this. He remembered a specific post on their site that said they were worried some people in their life would try to steal her ideas or claim she stole them herself. They were dealing with a lot of people lying about them and… and he was such an idiot.
AO3   Beginning    Previous    Next
Kofi
Tag List
@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice @bee-wrecker @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @northernbluetongue @paradoxal-occurance @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen @sonif50 @thequestionablyhuman @persephonebutkore @elspethshadow @geekydragonyt @mmwolf1605 @da-tasuky @mjisntme @bluerosette23 @anjuschiffer @littleredrobinhoodlum @tazanna-blythe @resignedcatservant @schrodingers25 @seraphichana @persephonescat @punstoppablechatnoir @magicalfirebird @crazylittlemunchkin @corabeth11 @cyborgcandy @casual-darkness @shamefullove @miraculous-simmer7 @tamoni112 @cat181818meow @littleblue5mcdork @allthebooksandcrannies @enchanted-nerd @disneyfoxuniverse @fallinginthe-void @mandy984 @goggles-mcgee @fontegagrilledcheese @dorkus-minimus @theatreandcomicfreak @zerotosiki @ayuchan07 @mindfulmagics @urbanpineapplefarmer @winter-gardenflower @mooshoon @my-name-is-michell @valeks-princess @melicmusicmagic @7-sage-7 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @alicesangelofmusic @caffeinetheory @nataladriana9 @multplelifes @wanderingreader1019 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mvaree @redscarlet95 @storyteller-d @howabouticallyou @ginamarie1512 @kurogaya913 @tbehartoo @maddrag @two-faced-biatch @senyahgirl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @iloontjeboontje @kakashixobito @welcometopradasa @amirahevens @amlesi @miraculousbelladonna @redscarlet95 @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @cupcakeandkisses @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @book-r-the-best @dur55 @moonlightstar64 @fertileleaf @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @thecaptainthunder @danielslilangel @novicevoice @nyaabinch @interobanginyourmom @welcometopradasa @charlietheepic7 @im-here-for-the-content @maya-custodios-dionach @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @starwindmaden @tired-butterfly @rogueptoridactyl @emeraldpuffguide @suzen23smith @yuulxd @animegirlweeb @alovelyocean @kris-pines04 @semaalcocer-blog @redscarlet95 @cadencehood @jardimazul @shethecat @silent-storms-posts @simplysslytherin @tog84 @thesunanditsangel @dast218 @tall-and-angry @the-alice-of-hearts @captainmac6 @theyellowfeverexperience @chrismarium @alessialeone6997 @heaven428 @tinyterror333 @smolplantmum @lilyellowink @naoryllis @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @magewriter @doodledeerest @athena452 @peachedpocky @tired-butterfly @risingmoonyue @lunammoon @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law  @bobothyross @silvergold-swirl @loysydark @heaven428 @peachedpocky @hauntedwintersweets @awesome-starfish-and-tacos @silvergold-swirl @rosesgonerogue @castielsofficialtoothbrush @myazael @aestheticnpoetic @creator-josie @sturchling @snowstar1016 @myblacknightworld @kittycatwowmeow @midnightkaito @chylou34 @hufflejournals @indecisive-mess-named-me @uwuteamleader @sassakitty @jessigurl-design @demigodgirl20031 @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @elmokingkong @unknownvsworld @thatonegaybitchfromschool @tis-i-beanbandit @damianette-is-life
279 notes · View notes
Text
Prologue: Revelations of the Heart
The drone of the airship engines was a familiar thing to the Right Hand Man as he lay awake in bed, his wide-brimmed top hat hanging off the bedpost. The lateness of the hour did nothing to ease the man into the land of dreams, indeed, he was still far too alert, his thoughts too noisy for sleep to claim him. For once, it wasn’t his years of training as a Toppat Enforcer that kept him awake.
He was plagued with worry.
It gnawed at him, strengthened by memories of things that had yet to come to pass. Of things that could still happen, death in multiple ways and on repeat. His own death never phased him, he knew he would die as he lived, protecting the clan until his last breath. It was the death of one man in particular that ate away at him. Numerous deaths he knew had happened, even after Right himself had met his end.
He knew and he hated it.
He heaved himself upright with a sigh, half expecting to see the gleam of metal in the corner of his eyes and reminding himself that he was hale, hearty, and whole. No cybernetics.
Yet.
Reaching out towards the wall, he fumbled for the light switch, and momentarily blinded himself as the overhead light blinked to life.
He groaned as he waited for his eyes to adjust. Clearing the spots from his vision, he got up and padded over to the small desk in the corner of the room.
His quarters were simple. A bed to sleep in, a wardrobe to store his clothes, a desk so he could work in peace, and a bookshelf he used to store the small amount of knickknacks and treasures he’d accumulated during his time in the clan.
Sliding into the rickety old desk chair, he grabbed the notebook sitting near the top corner of the desk and a pen from the “Big Banana” coffee mug he used as a pen holder. Opening the book to the most recent page, he checked over his notes.
I forgot how much of a bastard Terrence is. Just seeing his ugly mug makes me want to punch his lights out, but I can’t risk Reg not becoming the leader. It is tempting though.
Got “upgraded” again, that’s the fifth time I’ve gone through this.
Dunno if Henry’s an idiot or genius, half the time he kills himself and the other half he kills everyone else.
Really starting to hate those CCC blokes. Bit too trigger happy.
I do not get paid enough to deal with this crap. But I put up with it, for the Toppats, for Reg. Seriously, who just goes and steals an entire rocket?
One good thing about being in prison is that I get to sit back and watch the show, Reg and I even share a cell.
He added a new entry.
Having Henry be a competent leader would’ve been nice. Might’ve even respected him a bit, you know, if he hadn’t killed me, my boss, and the rest of the clan multiple times in a dozen different ways.
Right set the pen down, staring at the page. It seemed that this cycle of repetition was endless. Wake up with Terrence as Chief and the clan being run into the ground, die several years down the line, or live just long to see the clan off in safe hands.
And it all revolved Henry.
The thought made his blood boil and he exhaled sharply as he pushed the indignation and fury aside in an effort to focus. Here he was, years, lifetimes of experiences under his belt but he couldn’t act on it. Not when he had a duty to the clan.
He’d sooner jump off the airship than leave Reginald by himself. Right steadfastly ignored the other feelings wrapped up in that thought, it wasn’t his place. Reginald was destined to become Chief, to lead the clan into a new golden age. It was his duty as an Enforcer to protect the high-ranking members of the clan, and he had been made Reginald’s Right Hand minutes after denouncing Terrence.
He ran a hand through his hair, idly wondering if he should grow it out this time or keep it cut short. Staring at his notes didn’t provide any further insight to his situation, nor magically offer a solution.
Be a hell of a lot simpler if I could talk to Reg about it. He thought and blinked.
What was stopping him? What was stopping him from doing anything? Even if Reg didn’t believe him, he’d certainly play along and humour Right. Even passing off the situation as a side affect of his Sands of Time was believable enough since Right had no idea what was causing this in the first place.
For all he knew, it could be his Spirit reacting to something, he wouldn’t know. Hadn’t used the thing in years because no one else had one and it would be dishonourable to use it otherwise.
He glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall by the door and grimaced at the early hour it displayed. It would be some time before anyone was awake, let alone an early bird like Reginald.
With another sigh, Right put his pen and book back where he found them and stood up to head back to bed.
The door to his quarters opened with a hiss and he turned around, wide-eyed as a bleary-eyed Reginald walked in, still in his sleepwear.
“Uh, somethin’ wrong Reg?” Right asked.
“I was about to ask you the same question,” Reginald replied, groggy. “It’s 3am, what are you still doing up?”
“Can’t sleep.” He replied honestly with a shrug.
Reginald peered at him for a moment.
“If something’s bothering you, you can always tell me.”
“I know Reg, not now though, go back to bed,” Right waved him off. “I’ll tell you in the morning over breakfast.”
“Hm… I’ll hold you to that.” Reginald looked at him sceptically before leaving the room to return to his own quarters.
Right stumbled back and sat on his bed, sagging as he rested his head in his hands.
What was he going to tell him? How was he going to tell him? He spared a glance over at the notebook.
“Screw it.” He muttered.
Reginald had unknowingly forced his hand and backed him into a corner. He almost preferred this, having the decision to share his concerns be out of his hands was like ripping off a band-aid, quick and to the point.
He spent the rest of the early hours of the morning both dreading and anticipating the conversation.
Right felt far more alert than he should be as he shambled into the airship kitchen several hours later. He’d chucked on his usual dress shirt, pants, and boots before heading out the door, dropping his hat on his head on the way out. He felt perfectly fine and like absolute garbage at the same time but that was more due to the lack of sleep if anything.
He saw Reginald in the middle of cooking some scrambled eggs on the oven grill.
“Mornin’” he grunted, attempting to walk past him to fix up his own food only for Reginald to hold out an arm to stop him.
Right raised a brow at him.
“You go take seat, I’m making breakfast for you today,” Reginald stated firmly, pointing the spatula he held at Right threateningly. “You look exhausted Right.”
Reginald was in one of those moods. The kind where he got into a snit over Right not taking of himself (like he could talk, Reginald’s workaholic tendencies frankly scared Right some days) and fussed over him until he was satisfied Right wasn’t going to keel over. Right preferred to do things himself, at least when it came to the little things, but he understood where Reginald was coming from.
He’d done the exact same thing for him after all.
He sighed and smiled slightly. “Alright, thanks Reg.”
He didn’t have to wait long, Reginald brought him a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and sat beside him at an empty table at the back of the cafeteria moments later.
“So, what had you up so late last night?” Reginald asked as he nursed a cup of coffee, picking at his own plate of toast. “Did you even get any sleep?”
“It’s complicated…” Right began. “And no, didn’t get a wink of sleep, not that it matters. I’ve worked under worse conditions.”
“How complicated? Is it something to do with the clan?”
Here goes. Right thought, mentally preparing himself for the worst. “It’s complicated ‘cause been I’ve been stuck reliving the past decade or so over an’ over. I’ve died an’ woke up back when Terrence was still chief with the memories of what happened as well as what happened after I croaked.”
Reginald was staring at him, expression unreadable yet Right could practically see the gears turning in his head. He took it as a good sign and pressed forward.
“You’ve died, the clan’s gone up in smoke, or we’ve had our stuff stolen and rarely do things ever go our way,” Right stated. “Seems like the universe likes taking the mick out of us. We’re usually brought down by one bloke.”
“I’m sorry? A single person destroys the Toppat Clan?” Reginald asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, guy by the name of Henry Stickmin…” Right growled, glaring at his breakfast. “Can’t tip Terrence off when I get sent back, but after that…. I’m your Right Hand Reg, that’s my job. Not this time travelling bullcrap…”
“I’m sick an’ tired of it.” Right admitted, sighing.
Reginald made a noise in sympathy. Silence fell between them as Right ate his breakfast and Reginald was staring into his morning coffee, thinking.
“You know…” Reginald said after a while and Right looked over at him, fork sticking out of his mouth. “why not make it your job?”
Right set his utensils down on his plate, looking curious. “How so?”
“If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t give a damn about remaining consistent, I’d do whatever it takes to change the future for the benefit of the clan.”
“Even if it meant you’d never become chief?” Right asked.
Reginald nodded sagely. “Even then, you know how important the clan is to me. And truth be told, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for you, to bear the burden on not only your own demise but those of your allies as well. If it were me in your situation… I don’t believe I’d be nearly as calm…”
“You bein’ here helps with that,” Right said. “Knowing that you’re alive here an’ now, that it all wasn’t for nothin’… That keeps me going even in the worst of it.”
“In that case, we need to devise a way for you to inform me about this repeating life of yours every time you’re sent back,” Reginald decided. “It would certainly set my mind at ease knowing you won’t be dealing with this alone.”
“I have a book I keep notes in, more like a journal of sorts,” Right said. “Found it on my desk the first time I got sent back.”
“Anything else?”
“No, just the book. No idea where it came from.”
“Do you mind if I borrowed it?” Reginald asked.
Right shrugged as he shoved another mouthful of eggs and toast into his maw. “Go ‘head.”
The government attack on the airship happened like clockwork. Henry came crashing through the windshield in a big plastic ball. This time, they were prepared with the clan on alert and weapons at the ready. Reginald had cleared the bridge ahead of time and holed himself up in his quarters. Right refused to back down and had waited to see where Henry would appear. He smirked and stood tall.
“Why don’ you ditch your little hamster ball an’ face me yourself?” He drawled, weapon at the ready.
Across from him, Henry Stickmin pressed a button on the controller he held, and Right blinked as a large tube appeared on the front of the ball and dived out of the way of the green laser that fired from it.
He glanced over to see Henry was gone and sighed in exasperation.
“Bloody idiot…” he grumbled and grabbed the communicator clipped to his pants. “The Intruder’s been dealt with Reg. The bridge has sustained heavy damage though.”
Reginald replied moments later. “Round up a repair crew and I’ll see to getting the ship to one of our hangars.”
“Got it.” Right replied and left the bridge in search of Slice, knowing he would have the right people and resources ready to begin the repairs as soon as they landed.
It was as if his talk with Reginald had opened his eyes to the possibilities he now had. In the timelines that followed, Reginald had read his notes and the letter the chief had left for himself and worked with Right to use the information to the clan’s advantage. The schemes the man would concoct were a highlight of Right’s week.
Some things couldn’t be completely altered, as evident by Right’s cybernetic enhancements once more being the only thing that kept him alive after he’d tried to track Henry down and lost in the ensuing fight (again, he was really starting to hate the absurd amount of luck Stickmin had), and Reginald missing a hat.
Right remembered the events that followed all too well and upon hearing Reginald give the order to mobilise in preparation for an attack on The Wall, Right unplugged himself from the charging station installed by his bed and got up to retrieve a long, dark red coat from his wardrobe. It was something he’d started wearing whenever he got “upgraded”, the coat was from his old days before he’d even been assigned to the airship division, before he known as Right Hand Man.
He donned it now because his cybernetics were still new and fresh, still somewhat sensitive to the chill in the night air permeating the airship and his new internal heating systems hadn’t quite adjusted yet. The coat also came in handy as place to store all the little tools and gadgets he or Reginald often needed when out on the mission. He checked the pockets on the inside of the coat and felt a sliver of nervousness and a hint of confidence at the two small boxes tucked away within the confines of his coat.
If things were going to go the way he thought, he wanted something good to come of this. Even if that good was only temporary. He huffed as the left side of his vision was consumed by a blinking notification that he hadn’t finished charging and dismissed it with a roll of his eyes.
He could worry about that later, for now he had to stop Reginald from making a poor decision and dooming them all.
So Right headed towards the bridge.
The bridge was empty save for Reginald at the ship’s controls, everyone else having left to follow orders. Reginald turned around in the pilot’s seat as he heard him approach. “You should be resting Right. I can handle this little rescue operation.”
“I just need to know what you’re planning,” Right said, coming up to stand beside Reginald and resting a hand on the back of the chair. “You read the notes, I don’t want a repeat of that incident.”
“We can just take more precautions, with the information we have, taking out Henry won’t be an issue-”
Right was struck by a bolt of fear at the idea. It was rare that he was genuinely afraid, even rarer since his life had been put on repeat for several decades now, but there were some things that stuck with him. Things like the sight of Reginald pinned to the wall of the bridge, dead in the wreckage of his life’s work. Right had died that time somehow just knowing it was the end of the Toppats and embracing death with the knowledge he’d be sent back.
The knowledge of what happened after he perished had haunted him for days afterwards. It compounded on his bruised ego, the sensation that he was nothing more than a joke, a punching bag for the universe's twisted sense of humour, and he bought Reginald and the rest of the Toppats down with him.
Never again.
“Please Reg, don’t, don’t make me go through that again…” Right cut in. He kept his voice firm and looked away, pulling his hat down to hide his face further. “…I know you don’t like him, but I’m not havin’ that happen twice! ‘Specially since you know it’ll happen if you throw him overboard.”
He heard the squeak of leather as Reginald got up, the quiet sound of his shoes on the carpet as he walked around the chair to face the enforcer. A gloved hand rested comfortingly on his shoulder.
Right stared at the floor. It was cowardly of him yes, but it was better for to him hide when his mask of professionalism was so close to breaking. As good as his poker face was, Reginald would see through it.
Reginald would always be the chief to him, Right was his Enforcer, his Right Hand Man, and that was the be all, end all of it.
“Right,” Reginald said, the former leader’s concern making Right sigh in exasperation and embarrassment. “I assure you I won’t let anything like that happen.”
“Then don’ let your bitterness towards Henry influence your decisions.” Right grumbled. “If I can manage that, then so can you.”
Reginald stepped back. “Yes, I… I suppose I’ve been a bit single minded as of late haven’t I?”
Right sighed and finally looked up to see Reginald was worried, wringing his hands together, and seeing just how much of a toll this had on Right.
He sighed and removed his hat, holding it to his chest with one hand while the other reached into his coat to pull out one of the two boxes. “Look, I may not be the best at getting’ the point across, but I worry about you a lot Reg, I care about you. More than I rightly should given our respective jobs…” he hastily shoved the box into Reginald’s hands. “Ah to hell with it. Here, open it. You’ll see what I mean…”
Reginald quirked an eyebrow in curiosity as he opened the box. The former leader blinked in stunned silence at the light pink felt rose that lay inside.
“I know you like all those traditions the clan had throughout history, so I uh… made this for you… ‘cause I like you,” Right explained as Reginald gingerly picked up the fake rose and turned it over, revealing it was glued to a little gold pin. “It was tradition, back in the renaissance era or somethin’, to give someone in the clan a rose they could pin to their hat if you were interested in ‘em, romantically I mean. Pink ones were for confessin’ that you were interested.”
Right continued, looking off to the side, rambling. “S’lright if you don’t feel the same, don’t even know if you like blokes, it’s jus’ that when I heard the announcement that we were headin’ to The Wall, I knew I had to talk you down from chuckin’ Henry off the ship…” he rubbed the back of his neck as he put his hat back on. “An’ failin’ that, thought I might try my luck with… somethin’ else.”
“Right.” Reginald commanded and Right turned his head to look at him. Reginald’s featured softened into something gentle, and Right was taken aback when the taller man pulled him into a hug.
“You never have to worry about professionalism or where we stand in the clan. Do you hear me?” Reginald’s voice was thick with barely restrained emotion. “I adore you, you absolute fool…”
“Oh…” was all Right could say and timidly reached his arms around to hug Reginald back. This was new, and exhilarating, and terrifying all at once.
Eventually, Reginald pulled away and Right was left a quiet, elated mess of a man as Reginald cleared his throat to get his attention.
“Do you have one of these for yourself?” he quietly asked, holding up the rose and Right sheepishly pulled out the other box from his coat pocket.
“The one I gave you was the second attempt of makin’ one, kinda botched up the first one.” he admitted, opening the box to reveal a felt rose that had several crooked or off-centre petals.
Reginald cracked a smile, almost giggling as he swiped the crooked rose and pinned it to his hat.
“Oi!”
Reginald only laughed. “Hold still and let me pin the other one on you.”
Right huffed but let him pin the decent looking rose to the side of his hat. Reginald admired his handiwork with a satisfied grin.
“Hm yes, quite dashing if I do say so,” he said as he reached up to adjust his own pin with a fond smile. “…I never thought you were interested. I was certain I was giving off the right signals…”
“I’m a bit dense when it comes to this sort of stuff Reg.” the cyborg muttered and straightened up. “We can talk about this later, we got an idiot to rescue…”
“Ah yes, The Wall,” Reginald remembered and headed back to the airship controls. “I promise I won’t throw Henry overboard, go rest, please?”
Right cracked a warm smile, emotions practically bubbling to the surface. “Alright I’m goin’.”
Right Hand Man walked back to his room feeling lighter than he had in years, a giddy veil mixed with relief and belonging had settled around him and he welcomed it.
9 notes · View notes
Text
Daybreak Academy: Chapter 42
Ephemer’s Little Brother
Summary: In which Ephemer becomes a big brother. Word Count: 1,505 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆
Ava ran a hand through her hair as she read over the student reports. Final exam season was nearly upon them, and it was the perfect time for students to -unintentionally- start slacking. It seemed that many of the students in her house were doing incredibly well, which made the ones who were not stand out even more. She was already dreading the moment she had to talk to them, or worse- contact their caregivers.
“Good ol' Miss Ava Ryce; working on those benchmarks?”
Confused for a moment, Ava looked up and saw Gula casually leaning on the doorway. She relaxed a little as she gave him a bright smile.
“Oh, hello Gula.” she greeted. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“We've got a date, Ava.”
Ava blinked. “We do?”
“Don't tell me you've forgotten when that tank's been sitting there for two whole months!”
Again, Ava gave an absent blink as she looked over at said fish tank. Then it hit her with a jolt. She turned back to Gula with wide eyes.
“We're doing that today?”
Gula's demeanor darkened for a moment when he said, “We were originally planned to go last week.” His expression soon softened again before adding, “But there's no time like the present, right?”
“Right.” Ava almost immediately agreed. “Let me just get my things real quick...”
“Let's pick up Ephemer first before we go out.” Gula told her as he amusingly watched as Ava put some  of the reports away. “Kid's been cooped up since the play. Have you been making sure he eats?”
Ava slowed her movements slightly at the idea. “Skuld has,” she affirmed before starting to dig around for her purse.
“But he's still in that funk, huh?”
“Yeah...” Ava sighed before she slung her purse over her shoulder. “Skuld's told me that they started sitting in the cafeteria with Anora and her study group.”
Gula hadn't been aware of this. He gave Ava an inquisitive glower as he asked, “You mean that girl he brought to the formal?”
“Yes.” she agreed with a small bob of her head. She walked over to Gula and gave him a small tilt of her head. “Why? Is there something wrong with her?”
For this, Gula smirked. “Oh no, not at all.” he said in a voice that seemed particularly mocking. “There's nothing wrong with her. I was just curious.”
Ava still gave Gula a very suspicious side glance before leaving her office. He laughed at her, of course, following behind and making a point to close the door behind them.
. . .
Ephemer just wanted to sleep. Which was weird- he liked being anywhere but in his dorm on a normal day. But it had been a tiring month. No… two months. It's been a tiring two months and it still didn't seem to end. Gula all but breaking into Ephemer's dorm to tell him that he had to go to the pet store with him and Ava only seemed to be the icing on the cake.
It was a small miracle that Ava decided they should hail a cab instead of walking into town. Ephemer and Ava sat in the back seat while Gula sat next to the driver. The boy didn't care how old he was, he leaned against Ava's shoulder and almost drifted to sleep. But Ava, knowing him far too well, kept nudging Ephemer so he could stay awake.
The smell inside the pet store had been so musty that Ephemer immediately sneezed upon entering.
“Bless you.” the pet shop owner instantly replied before Ava or Gula could. “Besides getting the boy a tissue, is there anything I can help you lovely folks with?”
Gula and Ava exchanged glances, trying to see who could egg the other into talking first, before Gula stepped forward.
“The lovely lady there is looking for a new reptile, or amphibian, friend.”
“Sounds wonderful.” the shop owner smiled. “Any kind in particular?”
“Frogs!” Ava immediately blurted. “Or… or turtles!”
Ephemer looked at Ava and raised an eyebrow. At least one of them actually had the enthusiasm for this trip. The pet shop owner, on the other hand, seemed absolutely charmed by Ava.
“Well,” they then said, scratching the back of their head, “We don't sell any living frogs. But we do have a small selection of turtles. Would you like to see them?”
“Yes!”
“Then follow me.” the shop owner offered, gesturing for the three of them to follow. They didn't need to be told twice as they followed the shop owner through the store. As they walked, the pet shop owner told them, “We have three breeds of turtles available at the moment. Red Ear Slider, Reeve's, and a single Caspian. They're all quite friendly, and should be active this time of day.”
They stopped walking when the pet shop owner gestured to a large tank holding seven turtles. Ava immediately glued her face against the glass to get a better look at them. Gula snorted and joined her at her side. Ephemer dully lingered behind, still wishing that he could just go to asleep.
“Gula, look at this one!” Ava happily trilled. “Oh! What about that one? She looks like such a sweetie!”
But it was when Ava locked eyes with the Caspian pond turtle that she drew out a sharp inhale.
“Ava?” Gula curiously asked, trying to figure out if she was having a stroke or was honestly that excited about seeing a lone turtle.
“He's… so… cute!” she squealed.
The pet shop owner looked at Ava and laughed. “Shelby's got quite the personality! Would you like to play with him?”
Ava's eyes grew wide in wonder. “Can I?” she happily asked. Gula tried not to laugh at her- the 26 year old was acting like she was six again. The only one who didn't seem to find it as funny was Ephemer.
“There's a small play area right there,” the pet shop owner told Ava, pointing to a small enclosed place littered with pillows. “I'll get Shelby out if you can wait over there for him.”
“Sounds great!” Ava agreed. “Come on Ephemer!” she then said, grabbing her adoptive son by the hand. The boy let out a small sound of surprise, Ava's grip far stronger than what he was expecting, as she dragged them to the play area. Gula watched with interest as the pet shop owner got the Caspian pond turtle out and brought it over to the play area.
“Remember,” the shop owner told her, although talking to all of them, “Turtles are their shell. When you pick him up, make sure you do it from under- don't try to hold him by the sides.”
“Got it!” Ava quickly nodded, reaching her hands out for the turtle. The pet shop owner denied her the chance to actually hold the turtle, instead setting him down on one of the play area's pillows. Ava didn't care- she immediately scrambled to her knees to get a better look at the turtle.
“Hey little guy,” she cooed. “How are you doing?”
With Ava down for the count, Gula knew it was his responsibility to ask the important 'new pet owner' questions.
“If you don't mind me asking,” he said to the shop owner, “How long do they live for?”
“Like all turtles, it's quite some time.” the pet shop owner smiled. “But for these guys, the average is about 40 years.”
“How old is Shelby now?”
“He arrived to us freshly hatched back in April, so a good three months.”
Gula gave a small, sage-like nod of understanding. “How big will he get?” he then questioned.
“In the wild, about 40 inches.” the shop owner replied.
“Oh Ephemer,” Ava continued to gush as the turtle let her pet its head. “Isn't he just the sweetest thing?”
“Is this the way you acted when you met me?” the boy mused- his voice earning the attention of the turtle. It looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.
“No!” Ava quickly denied with a shake of her head. “Why would you think that?”
“Just a hunch...” Ephemer mumbled as the turtle started to carefully trot over to him. The two made eye contact, and for a moment, Ephemer wondered if turtles could smile.
“Hey there little guy.” Ephemer dully smiled at the tiny turtle. “You're a real lively one, aren't you?”
Now it looked like the turtle was wagging its tail. Was this thing a turtle or a dog?
“What do you think?” Ava asked Ephemer, scooting closer in a less than subtle attempt to gain the turtle's attention again. “Should we take him home?”
Ephemer lulled the idea over as he wiggled his fingers over Shelby's head. The tiny thing hungrily glared at them before making several attempts to snap at him. It was pretty amusing, honestly. As Ephemer started to stroke the top of the turtle's head, he turned to Ava with a small smile. “I wouldn't mind having a little brother.”
2 notes · View notes
themiddlelayer · 5 years
Text
In better news...
Puppy came down on Sunday. He got here right after my tattoo consult (which went great!) and he came with me to grab some groceries and fill a water jug. From there, we ordered wings and sat on the couch talking and laughing. I got on the massage table, then... enjoyed other naked activities.
 MILFing is hard work! Hahaha!
In all seriousness, I’m not 100% sure how I feel about things with him. The age difference isn’t so much the issue as the level of admiration he’s had for me. More than once, he remarked that he had to remind himself that he was not dreaming and this was really happening. 
I know, I know... bitching about being adored... but I still worry about being seen as an image, a fantasy, a dream. It feels shitty to complain about but at the same time recognizing the potential for not being seen as a whole person makes it hard to let go and just relax with him. 
Juno was having a rough morning because of her period, but I found out that she actually bought the condoms that Puppy had in his pocket. He had relayed my stance on fluid bonding and she gave them to him to ensure my boundaries would be respected. I can’t say it enough... I adore her!! 
This morning Puppy shared a screenshot from their conversation where she said that I’m a part of her life unless/until I want it otherwise.. that I’m part of her chosen family. ❤️❤️❤️❤️
The fact that he’s moving out of state in a couple months is also part of the equation. Juno is staying behind until their kiddo finishes the school year and she’s struggling with the idea of being apart from him again. He went out for a few weeks for harvest season last fall and it was really rough for her. They were actually more than HS sweethearts... they met in middle school when she threw a Mountain Dew bottle at him in the cafeteria. (That was one of the stories he shared over wings.) 
I definitely don’t feel bad about hooking up with Puppy, but I also had the urge to cleanse the room (incense because sage smells too smokey) and wished I had my own washing machine so I could properly wash the sheets when he left. I’m sore all over because of the sheer athleticism of the evening  and generally exhausted. 
I also might have been a little high when he left and I ended up eating almost an entire full-sized, heart-shaped box of chocolates last night before bed. I felt sad and old and tired.  
But I also just booked a massage with an acquaintance down here who works as a massage therapist at a local chiropractors’ office.  She is willing to come to my place on Thursday evening. I offered her a bit more than the in-office rate because of that, plus she’s a sweetheart who I’d like to make more social time with if possible. 
I know that I need to work on nurturing my friendships and making time for coffee dates with friends I’ve been out of touch with. And actually doing my job. In chatting with Spartan Man and Byron about life stuff in general I’m reminded how fortunate I am to have the job I do. I need to focus on those things more. 
All growing pains aside, I know this is what I need to be doing. This is where I need to be. And someday I’ll look back on this time in life and be proud of myself for getting through it all. 
1 note · View note
followthru4 · 6 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Coach Amador: “Rhys, my office!” He proclaimed as Rhys was leaving the showers. The Newcrest Titans had just finished their final practice before the Championship game, tomorrow. Rhys was feeling confidant in himself and in his teammates that they would secure the title ten hours from now.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Once in coach’s office, Rhys was handed a pile of white envelopes.
Rhys: “What’s this for?” He asked confused.
Coach Amador: “Take a guess?” He responded dryly.
Rhys pondered what his coach could have handed him. “I don’t know coach.”
Coach Amador: “Shit, me either! I didn’t open it. I just know it was in the dean’s office, saw your name, so I grabbed them. You’re welcome.”
Tumblr media
Rhys shook his head in irritation. He wasn’t sure why his coach was being so blunt, and sarcastic with him. “Oh … kay. Thanks then, coach.” He replied as he walked out of the office. Rhys headed to his dorm room and changed into sweat pants. He choose not to wear a shirt, soaking in his buff body due to all the intense workouts he endured during the week. Once in more comfortable attire he sat down at his computer desk and previewed the envelopes his coach handed him.
Dear Mr. Rhys Remming,
    This letter is to inform you that your tuition fees are now overdue. Your fees must be paid no later than 30 days from the date on this letter. If payment is not received in time, you will be withdrawn from all classes at Newcrest College.
                       Room & Board: §3,217.00
                       Class Tuition: §7,873.86
                       Total Fees Due: §11,090.86
Thank You,
Newcrest College Dean & Administration Office
121 College Drive
Newcrest 07074
Rhys crumbled his letter up and threw it towards his bed. “Aahhh!” He let out in agony. As if the weight that was already on his shoulders wasn’t enough, now there was this. He still hadn’t told his mother that he lost his basketball scholarship and he definitely didn’t have a job. The little bit of money he received from his basketball stipend was down to one hundred simoleons as he had spent the rest on food, hygiene items, and school supplies. Rhys placed his head in his hands and fought back tears. He couldn’t believe he was going to have to give up on his dream of playing basketball and obtaining dual Master’s degrees in Business Management and Law. He was stuck, with no thought of what to do, and no one to talk to about his problems.
As Rhys sat there, thoughts running rampage, and emotions unclear, he received a text.
Rhys (in his head): Man, this better not be my moms. I’m not going to be able to lie to her right now. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and viewed the incoming text.
555-867-1321: “Hey Mr.Big Baller… You busy?”
Rhys was ecstatic to receive a text from who he believed was Sage. With all that he was currently going through, it was actually perfect timing. There was not a single person on the planet he would have rather been speaking to than her.
Rhys: “Is this Sage? I’m never too busy for you.” He texted back, hoping she would get that he was flirting. He was always too nervous to push the flirtatious vibes onto her in person. It was her beauty, and the way she carried herself that kept him in his place. 
Sage: “Yes :) Are you down to meet me in the cafeteria?”
Rhys: “Of course. Now?”
Sage: “In ten...”
Rhys: “I’ll be there.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rhys decided to change clothes, again. He wanted to look as handsome as possible in her presence. Things were moving slowly between the two of them, but tonight Rhys made up his mind that that would change. He suddenly felt the confidence to open up a little more to Sage, and let her know how he felt about her. Probably because she texted him, like she said she would, but if she would have given him her number at the yoga studio last weekend, he definitely would have taken that step.
After eating a quick dinner with Sage, Rhys felt more relieved than he had before losing his scholarship. Sage wanted to see him face to face and allow him to vent about his current situation. He shared with her everything (except the news he got from his mother about her father and his father). He was also brave enough to share how he felt about her. She seemed receptive to his honesty, but he still couldn’t tell if she felt the same. She was a hard book to read, but he wasn’t intending on giving up. He walked Sage back to her dorm, gave her a hug, and went about his way. She didn’t even bat her eyes, or give him the long stare as to welcome a kiss, so he didn’t try it.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
On his way back to his dorm he had an epiphany. He looked up at the night sky, observing the dark blue atmosphere with its shinny white stars. You don’t have a choice right now. Thirty days will be here before you know it. We don’t have time for last minute decisions. Let’s just get this money, and then quit. He pondered, trying to convince himself to commit to dancing at the Red Room. It must have worked, because before he knew it, there he was, at the club in downtown Newcrest. He walked to the front window and asked for Jahil. The woman picked up a walkie-talkie, said a few inaudible words, then asked Rhys to wait for a few minutes.
Tumblr media
Rhys nodded and began to observe the walls of the entry to the club. Black. No pictures, no directives (besides the exit and emergency signs), and a section of ATM machines. Ah! Get them to have cash before they even enter the doors. He thought to himself. Moments later Jahil was greeting Rhys.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jahil: “You’ve made a solid decision, young boy.”
Author’s Honorable Mentions:  @ratboysims for the ‘sitting and talking’ table poses.
Previous | Beginning | Next
41 notes · View notes
lxveille · 7 years
Text
happenstance
woozi x reader
word count: ~ 6900 warnings: swearing, (binge) drinking a/n: university!AU; also if you are living in dorms it is Rude™ to sexile your roommate as regularly/badly as Wonwoo does in this fic so don’t do it !!!
When your roommate goes to spend the night with her boyfriend for the first time, she generously offers her own bed to Wonwoo’s sexiled roommate. Which is how you end up practically living with Jihoon instead of your best friend during midterms week.
Tumblr media
Your bed is littered with textbooks and highlighted articles you’d spent more money than you should have printing out at the library. Thursdays are often a night when you end up going out with your roommate, but a few key things have changed this week. First of all, your psychology midterm paper is due on Tuesday and you have about half a page of bullet point notes to show for the research you’ve completed so far. Being behind on coursework has never stopped you from being convinced into bar hopping instead before, though.
So perhaps more of note is the fact that your roommate -- your best friend and the impetus of many of your perhaps questionable decisions -- has officially started dating. Things have changed from her freshman year ‘no-strings-ever’ policy. You’ve met Wonwoo several times. Frankly, you’d been skeptical when Xiening first told you she was going out with some guy from her 300-level literature course. And even more skeptical when she reported that the two of them were taking things slow.
Slow is why tonight, nearly two months after her first date, is the first time she’s disappeared from your shared dorm room to spend the night with Wonwoo.
You ought to be grateful for the peace and quiet afforded by her absence. There’s a reasonable chance of making good headway with your paper like this. Still, the concept your room being tranquil in any sense of the word is bizarre.
When the door opens, you don’t look up from your laptop at first. Instead, you simply ask, “What’d you forget?” Certain in the assumption that it must be your roommate dropping back by again. It wasn’t like it’d be a long walk. Wonwoo happened to live on the floor above yours.
“Uh -- sorry, I might have the wrong room,” comes an unknown, masculine voice.
That gets you to look up pretty quickly.
“Who the hell are you?” you snap. He looks like a deer in headlights, laptop tucked under one arm like he should be on his way to a study room in the library rather than barging into someone else’s dorm room.
“I was looking for someone else’s room,” the stranger rephrases, taking a step backwards to look at the number on your door. “You, uh, don’t know anyone named Xiening,  do you?”
You sit up straighter on your bed, brow raising at the mention of your friend’s name. “Well, you’re a gutsy one, aren’t you?” It feels safe to presume this must be someone she hooked up with prior to Wonwoo. You’ve never known exactly what kind of magic Xiening had, but her one-night-flings always seem to come calling back for more eventually. Though this one doesn’t exactly look like her usually kind of guy. Handsome, you suppose, but with features that are somehow both softer and less friendly than the type she normally gravitates towards.     “She has a boyfriend now,” you tell him matter of factly, “She’s actually in his room now, so -- you’re out of luck.”
He looks at you like you’ve just grown a second head.
“Yeah… I’m aware of that. Wonwoo’s my roommate. She told me to crash in her room because of that.”
“Sorry, what?” You glance at where your phone is sitting beside your laptop. There’s not a single text from her that you’ve missed. And this seems like it should be the kind of thing she would have asked you about before offering up her bed to some guy you didn’t know. At least it was the kind of thing she used to check in with you about -- strange the apparently the policy changes when she’s not coming back to the bed with the individual in question.
“She said her roommate -- or, I guess you, apparently -- would be out tonight.”
“Clearly I’m not.” You gesture at your own self vaguely.
“I can tell.” Somehow he manages to sound like the one who’s had his privacy disrupted despite unequivocally being the intruder in this scenario.
Briefly, you consider storming upstairs to ask Xiening just what exactly she was thinking when she told this guy he could crash here. Except you know exactly what she was thinking. The downside to whole college-roommate setup is that one half can often ends up drawing the short stick whenever the other gets laid.
“You still didn’t answer my question. Who even are you?” Other than Wonwoo’s roommate, you imply.
“Jihoon,” he answers, and where you think he’s going to ask for your name as well, he instead says, “So can I stay here or not?”
“Why don’t you just go out and find someone to take you back to theirs?” you suggest, gaze diverting to one of the marked up case studies littered across your comforter.
“I’m not gonna go find someone to hook up with just because Wonwoo’s sexiling me.”
You flip the page of the article and look over at Jihoon again. “You and I are very different people,” you remark dryly. A part of you hopes it’ll be off putting enough that  he’ll want to sleep anywhere else.
“That’s not an answer,” he replies just as flatly.
“Whatever. Stay if you want, just don’t expect the lights to go out anytime soon,” you tell him, looking back to your computer screen, “I have way too much paper to write.”
That gives Jihoon all the permission he needs to properly come inside the small room. “That’s fine. I have things to work on too.”
With that, he sat down on Xiening’s bed and opened up his own computer. He plugs in headphones, which you take as a confirmation of your already growing suspicion that he might not be much of a talker. You’re thankful for it. At least it means you won’t have any serious distractions to your attempts at productivity.
It is odd though. At least for the first couple of hours, it takes you by surprise ever time you glance over to see Jihoon where you’re used to seeing your best friend. But by the time you’ve written four and a half pages of your midterm -- and it’s well into the early AMs -- the glances go from awkward to feeling like this is completely normal.
It is fascinating how quickly human beings can adjust to small changes at times.
The clock in the corner of your screen reads 4:32 when you finally decide you ought to head to bed if you’re going to be conscious for your afternoon lecture tomorrow. (It’s not as if you haven’t shown up to that particular class feeling like death rolled over. And that has been with more than just a lack of sleep weighing you down.)
It surprises you a bit when you see Jihoon still sitting with his back propped against the wall and attentively working on something on his screen. You shut your own laptop and stretch your back before unfolding your legs and standing up.
“I’m gonna try to get some sleep in,” you announce, heading over to your dresser. Jihoon hums a questioning tone, and you presume he must not have heard you. “I’m gonna want to turn the light off soon,” you speak a little louder, glancing at him from over your shoulder as you pull pajamas out of a drawer. He gives a short nod.
It seems like he doesn’t intend to say anything about it at all until your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt.
“Aren’t you gonna… go to the bathroom or something to change?” he questions. You throw a look his way once more after you’ve already peeled off your top and nearly laugh when you spot a tinge of pink at the tips of his ears, evidently from the sight of you in just leggings and a bra.
“Look, this is still my room. I’m not changing my routines just because you happen to be staying here tonight,” you explain as you pull a large t-shirt you’d gotten for free at some campus event on. “Feel free to not stare, though. That’d be, you know, probably a decent courtesy.”
“I didn’t think you’d just…” He trails off, looking back to his computer like he’s trying to glue his eyes to the work there now.
“I mean, do you stare at Wonwoo when he changes? Or, like, are you the kind of roommates that always change huddled up in the further corner from each other?”  You kid as you switch leggings for loose fitting pajama shorts.
“We don’t actively try to see each other naked,” Jihoon answers, with what you think might be a touch of humor.
“It’s safe, by the way,” you tell him once you’ve slipped your bra off from under your shirt. “Lights off good for you?” You pause by the lightswitch. This might be the first time you’ve asked a guy that question outside the context of sex.
“Yeah, I can work from just my computer’s light.”
“You’re seriously still working?” Disbelief is evident on your voice as you flick the lights off and make your way back to your bed.
“Midterms are coming up,” he reminds you of what you already know. From the light of his screen, you can still make out his features as you settle underneath your blankets.  He looks as weary as you feel.
“You know, the more tired you are when doing important shit, the more likely you are to fuck it up?” You offer him the same sage advice a friend of yours had given you during an all-nighter once before.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he remarks sarcastically, his eyes searching your own out in the dark.
“Reminder: I don’t even know you. If you’re looking for a vote of confidence, I abstain. Hit up Wonwoo instead. I doubt he and Xiening are still at it.”
Jihoon shakes his head and starts typing again. “Goodnight,” he tells you.
“Good luck,” you chime back, rolling over to face the wall as you close your eyes.
You manage to wake up at quarter to noon. Before your lecture at three, you meet up with Xiening for your usual late Friday lunch. She has the distinct glow of someone who’s had good sex with the past twenty-four hours, and she confirms as much over your second cups of watered-down cafeteria coffee.
“I wouldn’t appreciated even like… a head’s up about his roommate, you know,” you bring up as gentle as you can manage.
“I know. I’m so sorry about that whole thing. Honestly, I thought you wouldn’t even be in!” she says, biting into her lower lip with concern.
“Don’t worry too much about it. It turned out okay. Just, uh -- definitely a new way of spending a Thursday night.” You force a small chuckle, and Xiening smiles weakly in return.
“Really, though. When Wonwoo told me earlier that Jihoon mentioned you didn’t seem thrilled by the arrangement, I felt like a total fuck-up,” she carries on, nails tapping nervously on the dining hall table. “I wouldn’t have offered, but I just want Wonwoo’s friends to like me, you know?”
“I told you not to worry,” you insist, blowing onto the still steaming coffee in your cup to cool it before taking a sip. “I’m on your team. Always. If letting Wonwoo’s sleep-deprived roommate borrow your bed is what you want, I’m down, okay?”
Xiening’s head dips forward as she laughs a bit more genuinely. “You’re aware you’re the best, right?”
“Bitch, that’s what I’ve been saying since freshman year. You’re finally on board?”
“Hey! I’ve definitely sung your praises before now! Just ‘cause I’m dating now doesn’t mean I won’t still be your best wingwoman,” she argues, grinning as she points an index finger at you accusingly.
You roll your eyes. “I love you, but you are accidentally the worst wingwoman. Guys gets so excited by the thought you might be approaching them that anyone else is disappointment in comparison.”
“Oh, come on,” she denies, taking her own turn to eyeroll, “You’re a babe. It’s not like you’ve ever struggled to find someone to hook up with in the first place.”
“Mm, related note: I’m gonna need a serious rager night once all our midterms are over. Because I think I’m doomed to stay a hermit until then and I might lose my mind.”
“We will -- promise,” Xiening agrees.
But all your midterms won’t be out of the way for another week. And so that evening, when you hear others on your floor starting to play music in their rooms and spot girls doing smokey eyes in the bathroom, you’re settling back into your room with more work to do.
Xiening sends you a text first this time before Jihoon shows up. It arrives only a few minutes before he does. But you’re grateful not be caught off guard when he opens the door at least.
“Hey, Jihoon,” you greet him as if you’d done it a hundred times before.
“More essays?” he questions. You nod without looking up from the sentence you’re currently typing out.
He settles in without any further exchanges. In a way, it’s nice to have someone else working alongside you, even if you don’t even know what he’s dealing with at all. Still, a bit silent company doesn’t succeeding in helping you stay as focused and energized as you might have preferred.
It’s nearly eleven at night when you groan and collapse back into your pillow in frustration. For the life of you, you swear you’ve written your essay into a conclusion three pages too soon.
“You alright over there?” Jihoon asks, with more amusement in his voice than you expect. You turn your head on your pillow to look at him and give an exaggerated frown.
“I’m dying,” you state, “Like,  the slowest, most boring-as-fuck death.”
“So the paper’s going well, I take it,” he laughs, and you feel half tempted to chuck a pillow at him. Instead, you feel a burst of laughter pass your lips.
“Don’t you need a break by now?” You suggest after a couple of moments, sitting up again, “We could go get coffee or something. Save ourselves from this room.”
“This room’s still a change of scenery for me,” Jihoon points out, shrugging his shoulders.
You glare at him briefly before throwing your head back to look at the ceiling. “You seriously just wanna stay locked up in the room all night?”
“No,” comes his simple answer, “But I don’t want to ruin my GPA either.”
“Fuck, a fifteen minute coffee run is not going to ruin your GPA, okay? Please?”
You’re not sure why you seem to be insisting Jihoon comes with you. It’s not as if this break isn’t something you could take on your own. Perhaps it’s just out of habit, since he’s the one sharing the room at the moment, and this is the sort of thing you’d usually ask of Xiening. Although she takes far less convincing than Jihoon.
The two of you aren’t even out of the building before he admits that he’s stuck in the paper he’s writing, too. You berate him for fronting like he didn’t need a break for a good five minutes of the walk it takes to get from your dorm to the cafe in the student center.
“Will you drop it if I buy your damn coffee?” he asks as you’re pulling open the door to the building.
“Realistically -- no. I basically collect this kind of shit for rainy days,” you joke as he passes inside.
“Well then enjoy buying your own caffeine.”
“Thanks, I totally will!”
He gives you a look that feigns annoyance at your exaggeratedly chipper tone. But there’s just enough of an upwards quirk in his lips that you know he’s in on the jest of it all.
It becomes a regular thing: having Jihoon as essentially your new roommate by the time the sun goes down. Xiening claims she and Wonwoo actually spend a fair amount of time actually doing work on their midterms when they’re spending all this time together. They just enjoy the domestic feel of falling asleep together at the end of it all. By Tuesday, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve teased her about how she isn’t fooling anyone by claiming the cuddling is all they do.
You don’t mind this new circumstance. You haven’t since Friday night and that humanizing late-night coffee run. Your late nights working on midterms are peppered with conversations, and taking short breaks together to go down to the student center for a restock of coffee or snacks.
Which doesn’t mean the week is any less exhausting. But the unexpected opportunities getting to know Jihoon have made it a considerably less miserable experience than your horrible ratio of hours working to hours sleeping would suggest.
On Thursday, when you finally submit your last midterm paper, you go immediately back to your room after class and collapse into nap that lasts several hours.
When you wake up, Xiening has already left for Wonwoo’s, and Jihoon is immersed in something on his computer.
You yawn while asking, “You’re still not done with midterms?”
He groans out a no that tells you plenty about how he feels about the fact.
“That sucks,” you sympathize, sitting up and stretching arms over your head. Your phone chimes, and you find a long sequences of messages in a group chat of your friends. Enough of you have officially survived midterms week that there’s a night of drinking well underway in planning already.
“You’ll be free of me interrupting your process tonight, at least,” you announce as you look up from your texts.
“Oh?” For a moment, you think Jihoon sounds nearly disappointed.
“Mmm -- gonna go out with some of my friends tonight. So you’ll weirdly actually have the room all to yourself. At least until I come back to crash.” Possibly all night, you suppose, if you end up going home with someone else.
“So Xiening wasn’t being totally unreasonable when she first thought you wouldn’t even be here a week ago,” he remarks.
“She just happened to underestimate that I can be a responsible students. You know, sometimes,” you confirm as you begin looking through potential outfits for the night.
You consider going to the floor’s bathroom to change tonight. It would go against the philosophy you shared with Jihoon the first time you met. Yet somehow trying on different party dresses seems like a different.
In the end, Nayoung ends up talking you into bringing a couple options over to her dorm. Not that you told her about your debate surrounding Jihoon. Rather, you just told her you aren’t sure what to wear. And her insistence that you’re already already missing out on good pregaming with her, Soyee, and Haebin provides a good enough resolution to your dilemma.
So you throw a few favorite dresses into a bag and wish Jihoon good luck on his assignment.
The girls talk you into something form-fitting and royal blue. As well as into taking shots of grapefruit vodka. After the second one, you ask whether or not Xiening is coming tonight.
“One of her professors made the midterm paper due on Sunday,” Soyee explains, pronouncing the day of the week like it was a curse.
“And she didn’t finish it in advance?” you question as you go about filling up the lined up glasses once more.
“It’s a miracle she’s finished any of her papers on time, isn’t it? She’s been at her boyfriend’s basically every night for a week, hasn’t she?” Haebin points out. “I love her but she is seriously borderline too loved up, you know what I mean?”
“I feel bad for Wonwoo’s roommate,” Nayoung cuts in as she helps you redistribute the shots to the small group of you, “He’s basically been kicked out of his room by Xiening.”
“He’s actually been crashing in our room,” you reveal.
“Like, regularly? I know he was there that first night but he’s been there every time?” Nayoung gives you a shocked look.
You nod and add, “He’s there right now, actually.”
The room erupts in a chorus of different opinions on whether or not that classifies as weird or not. You only bother trying to insist it isn’t a few times before requesting:
“Can we just go back to cheersing that midterms are the fuck over?”
That suffices. And with blood already rushing with a decent amount of liquor, the four of you head out for the bars around ten.
The night becomes a blur of bar lights and dancing with your friends sometime after eleven.
Haebin is the first to stop smiling and ask if the lot of you can head back to campus. None of you are belligerent enough insist staying once someone wants otherwise.  So the stumbling walk with arms linked back home begins.
Normally when the group of you go out, you and Xiening separate off from the others when you reach the student center in the middle of campus. Since Soyee, Nayoung and Haebin live in a different building from the two of you, it’s always made since to part ways there so that everyone has the shortest possible walk home.
Reaching the quiet center point now, though, it dawns upon you that Xiening isn’t here to help make sure the both of you make it to your building.
“We’re obviously walking you to your building,” Soyee says when you blurt out at much.
“No! That’s so, so far for you guys!” you exclaim, your voice echoing a bit in the empty, practically abandoned spaces.
“Is like… ten minutes extra,” Nayoung slurs her argument, leaning a bit heavily into your side.
“You’re not walking home alone,” Soyee reiterates, seemingly the least drunk if her enunciation is anything to go off of.   
Haebin lifts one finger and chimes in, “I, you know, might need to use your bathroom but -- yeah.”
So the chain of you continues together uphill to your building. You spend much of those minutes babbling on about how much you adore all three of them.
“You have your keys, yeah?” Soyee checks in when you reach the front door. You shuffle through a few things in your bag before pulling them out as a reply. “Haebin, are you good or do you need to go in for a minute?”
She shakes her head. “I’m good, I’m good! I jus’ wanna go to bed.”
After what might have totaled to two rounds of hugs goodbye, you make your way inside and unsteadily up the stairs to your floor. You don’t bother counting how many times you nearly fall and half-stumble in your heels on the steps.
The door to your room is unlocked when you get there. The lights are still on, and you find yourself laughing without real cause when you see Jihoon is still working on his laptop. He has large headphones on that keep him from truly noticing your arrival until you make your way into the space between the two beds.
“Uh -- are you okay?” he asks when you plop down on the hard tiled floor to pull your shoes off.
“Are you?” you ask back, leaning backwards to look up at him. Tilting your head back so far makes the whole room spin sideways.
“Yeah, I’m alright” Jihoon answers, brow furrowed in a way that didn’t align with his words. “You need a hand there?”
With shoes tossed aside, you push yourself up onto your knees with both hands. Something lurches in your throat, and you think it might have been the last two drinks at the bar that pushed you over the edge. Jihoon doesn’t wait for an answer from you before putting his laptop aside and coming to your side.
His hands steady upon your elbow and shoulder, he helps you stand up entirely and make your way at a sloth’s pace to sit on your own bed.
“Pajamas?” he asks.
You lie down on your bed, legs still dangling off the edge of the mattress. “I just wanna sleep.”
“Yeah, that dress doesn’t look like comfy sleepwear though.” Jihoon tugs lightly on one of your hands to encourage you to sit up again. Your eyes are closed when you nod an agreement.
“Middle drawer,” you tell him as you point lazily towards your dresser. He disappears from your side and you begin fumbling your way out of your dress.
“Okay, geez, I was gonna say you should --” he doesn’t finish his reaction to your state of undress as he shoves a few articles of clothes into your arms a few moments later. “Just put those one.”
You comply and proceed to crawl underneath your blankets. Your bones feel like deadweight, and you think you’re already half-asleep when Jihoon’s voice is back in your ears insisting you drink some water before passing out. You shake your head as much as you can will yourself to do, and feel a hand shake your shoulder in reply.
“You’ll regret it if you don’t,” Jihoon states, flicking at one of your ears. You groan and sit up again, shakily taking your freshly filled water bottle from him.
The water tastes impossible good on your dried out tongue. After a few good gulps you rest the bottle in your lap and look over to where Jihoon is sitting on your bedside. “You’re nice to me,” you say dumbly.
“I’m not mean,” he answers, half-chuckling at your sudden realization.
“Yeah but -- um -- you look like you should be,” you confess. After another desperate sip of water you carry on, “Like one of those grumpy people are fuckers people.”
“If you say so. Didn’t you want to sleep.”
“I do!” you enthuse, nearly dropping the water bottle in the process, “But also wanna let you know you’re, uh, you know the word? Like -- um, like dope but, you know, a more legit word than that.”
“How much did you have to drink?” Jihoon asks, to which all you can manage is a shrug.
If you ramble anything else out to him, your mind doesn’t let you recall in the morning.
But you do thank Jihoon in the morning, despite your pounding head. You’re pretty sure it would be several times worse if it hadn’t been for the water he’d handed you and the ibuprofen he’d left on your bedside table for you find when you woke up.
He’s still lying in Xiening’s bed, looking at you sleepily as you sit cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “Seriously, you were way nicer to me last night than you needed to be,” you maintain. “You were still working when I came back, weren’t you?”
Jihoon nods without lifting his head from the pillow.
“Trust me, I know how annoying of a messy bitch I can be when I’m drunk. I’m sorry you had to deal with it.”
“You’re not a bitch,” he murmurs into the blankets.
“Thanks? I mean -- I don’t really use it in the, like, bitch-bitch way. But I guess I’m glad you don’t actually think I am one.”
Jihoon hums something sleepily. Your hand pats lightly at one of his legs through the blankets. “I’m buying you brunch today, by the way. So let me know when you want to go.”
“Huh?” He half sits up at that, head of messy hair tilted to one side as you stand up.
“Brunch. You know, coffee and whatever the hell you want to eat? I owe you for not letting me pass out on the floor last night.”
The offer of free food makes Jihoon get out of bed much sooner than it seemed like he would.  
You take him to your favorite place to get weekend brunch, and express no shortage of dismay when he says he’s never been here before. His only answer for you is that he and his friends aren’t exactly the brunch kind of people.
“So what is this miserable midterm you’re still somehow working on?” you ask him around the time you’re both half-way through your meals. “It must be due today, right? This is technically the last day of midterm week.”
He shakes his head as he finishes chewing a bite. “It’s an original composition for one of my music courses. The professor made it due next Wednesday because of the creative aspect.”
“How’s it going?”
“You already hit the nail on the head with ‘miserable.’”
It’s not until later in the day, when your hangover is long gone, that you decide have a solution to Jihoon creative block.
When you come back to your room from dinner with Soyee, Jihoon is taken off guard when you announce, “Good! You’re already here.”
“Yeah… Wonwoo and Xiening are watching some movie in our room. Didn’t really feel like being there when they go from netflix to chill.”
“I was thinking, and you should go out tonight.”
“Is this a subtle way of telling me you have some guy coming over?” Jihoon questions, though he refuses to look your way as he does so.
“Nope! I’m gonna go out with you,” you explain, sitting down beside him on Xiening’s bed. As per your suspicions, he has the composing software open on his screen.
“I can’t go out,” he refuses, “I still have so much of this to rework before I can even finish it.”
“I know, that’s why you need to go out!” You jostle his shoulder with your own to punctuate your point. “You’re all in your head about it. And, look, it’s not due until Wednesday, right? So you still have plenty of time to sort it out after you take a night to clear your head.”
“Can’t risk it,” he says, and goes to lift his headphone back up over his ears.
“Hey, wait!” You reach out and place a hand on his wrist. “You think Mozart composed his operas by staying cooped up inside some tiny room all day and night?”
“Uh–” He begins, but you don’t let him get a word in before you’re carrying on.
“He didn’t. Mozart fucking killed it at billiards and partied hard, okay?”
“That just doesn’t sound true,” Jihoon says pointedly, shaking his head at you. You let go of his wrist and stand up, placing your hand on your hip.
“What? A bitch can’t know her history of classical composers?” you challenge, feigning more offense than you really feel. “Get up, Wolfgang. We’re going out.”
“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?”
“If you don’t feel re-upped on inspiration after taking a night off, I’ll write a four-page apology to your professor myself.”
“Like that’d change anything?”
“I mean, if he’s a sixty-year-old musician he’s probably a sucker for the story of temptress bitches and liquor distracting musical geniuses from their callings.”
“That’s… the grossest thing you’ve said on so many levels.”
“Yeah, I know,” you concur, nodding deeply, “So are you coming or not?”
“One drink.”
No one in the history of the college drinking has ever successfully kept a promise of ‘just one drink’
So three drinks later, you and Jihoon are dancing in a dark corner of a dive bar to an Earth, Wind & Fire track. The bass might as well be moving your feet for you as you sing-shout lyrics at Jihoon, grabbing one his hands in your own as if you’d written the words ‘say that you remember’ yourself and just for him.
It’s not clear if the flush across his face is from alcohol or embarrassment at your antics. Or something else, as he ducks is head from your view with a laugh you only just hear over the speakers blasting music.
It’s just past midnight when the two of come tumbling out of the bar hand-in-hand. You’re not sure exactly how it happened, unless it’s somehow just the case that neither one of you let go once you’d taken it while dancing.
“So why do you know about Mozart’s past times?” he finally asks as your ears adjust the contrasting quiet of the street.
“Like, half my friends are music majors,” you tell him with a laugh, “Soyee just wrote a midterm paper about how he wrote a shitton of dirty songs for his friends, or something.”
“You’re a good friend,” he comments, and you glance up from your careful steps on the sidewalk to give him a puzzled look at the sudden observation. He averts his gaze from yours just as soon as you make eye contact. “I mean, listening to your friends go on about their academic stuff and actually retaining it.”
“Mmm, and letting their boyfriends’ roommates basically switch rooms.” You grin a bit wider when he laughs.
“Never thought getting regularly sexiled would be a mixed blessing, true.” Your joint hands swing back and forth at a steady rhythm between the two of you.
“Now wait -- am I the blessing or the mixed part of that?” you tease as you come to a stop at a crosswalk. Headlights from passing cars in both directions illuminate Jihoon’s face as he looks back to you.
“It’s not obvious?” He speaks lower that you’re anticipating. The words would sound begrudging if not for the tinges of pink still coloring his features. Your smile twists into an inquisitive one, and your fingers lace a little tighter against his own.
You glance up at the traffic light. From this angle, you can still make out the shift from green to yellow. Before the oncoming traffic is brought to a stop to leave time for you both to cross, you lean in to press your lips to Jihoon’s.
His fingertips press into your knuckles with the surprise of it before he kisses you back. It’s a slow, exploratory kind of kiss. The taste of lingering vodka on his tongue doesn’t bother you, but when your chest bumps against his own, you realize this might not be the best place to have a make out session.
“You’re coming back to my room, right?” you nearly whisper when you pull your mouth away from his. Looking over your features with a dazed adoration, Jihoon only nods in reply.
He kisses you again in the stairwell of your building. As if it had only just fully registered that you’d expressed interest in him, he pulls you close to him and kisses you with an urgency that feels akin to disbelief. Your small giggles cut the second kiss short, and Jihoon grins with his arms around your waist. “You’re cute,” he confesses, lips skimming against the skin of your jaw.
“Come on,” you say, nudging his leg with your knee, “One more flight of steps.”
One more flight brings you to your hallway, and then to your door. But a muffled sound of crying steals your lusty smile from your face when you go to unlock it. When you open the door, both you and Jihoon frown at the sight of Xiening in tears on her bed.
You abandon Jihoon in doorway to rush to her side. “What happened?” you ask her, pulling her into a hug with all thoughts of getting laid gone from your mind.
“Wonwoo --” she chokes out through a sob as she buries her weepy face in your shoulder, “We fought!”
“What? Do you wanna tell me about it?” you continue, rubbing circles into your friend’s back. You glance back over your shoulder to the door and mouth at Jihoon to leave.
He looks dumbfounded, but he nods and closes the door before he goes.
In the morning, Xiening’s eyes are still puffy from tears. It had been a small thing, of course, that had felt like a world-shattering fight just by being the first time they disagreed. Haebin is the one to successfully convince her to go talk things out with Wonwoo.
You text Jihoon about half an hour after Xiening leaves to do just that, asking if the two of you could meet up to talk. He answers that he’s in the library, finishing up his composition midterm.
You find him on the first floor, and you’re glad he hasn’t tucked himself away in one of the silent study areas of the library. You collapse into the empty chair beside where he’s working and ask if Wonwoo told him anything about the argument.
At that question, Jihoon attention shifts from you back to his screen. He tells you doesn’t know anything about it.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Didn’t you talk to him about it at all?”
“He didn’t want to talk about it,” Jihoon answers too simply.
You roll your eyes. “You’re no help at all.”
He shrugs and continues entering notes on the score in front of him. You shift in your seat, wondering why the air feels so thick between the two of you this afternoon. Jihoon spares you a few glances as he continues composing before suddenly admitting, “When you said you wanted to talk I didn’t think it was about our roommates’ relationship.”
“We came back last night to find my best friend crying. What else would I want to talk about?”
“Nothing,” he says after a moment, looking back to the program in front of him, “I hope they sort things out.”
They do. But Jihoon stops crashing on Xiening’s bed.
You’re not certain what changed. Or rather, you’re not sure what changed between the two of you kissing and him suddenly deciding to avoid you. You go as far as asking Xiening where Jihoon is spending nights now, but she doesn’t know.
Actually reaching out to Jihoon feels like a step too far. After all, the two of you aren’t actually roommates. It’s none of your business if he’s found somewhere else to go on the nights his room is otherwise occupied by Wonwoo and Xiening.  
A week goes by without more than a text from Jihoon. You’d asked, on Tuesday night, if he was in a good place with his piece. His reply had only read yeah.
You’re not happy with the new distance. Which may be partly responsible for the eagerness in your acceptance when Xiening asks if you want to go out tonight.  
Hitting up your favorite bar with her succeeds in getting Jihoon off your mind. At least until Xiening announces that Wonwoo is going to drop by to hang out for a bit.
“Cool,” you tell her, “I feel like I haven’t actually seen him in ages.”
It’s considerably less cool when he shows up with Jihoon in tow.
“How’d your last midterm turn out?” you ask him somewhat hesitantly. Wonwoo and Xiening might as well have left the two of you alone with the way they slip into their own conversation as soon as they’re reunited at the table.
“I’m happy with it,” Jihoon answers with a succinct nod. At least it’s more than a one-word response.
You look down into the mixed drink in your glass. The low lights of the bar reflect in the dark liquid, and you listen in briefly to the couple laughing together just to your right.
“Your plan worked after all. The -- uh -- the getting out of my head thing. It did end up making it easier when I came back to the composition,” Jihoon continues just when you think the lack of conversation between you two will officially settle into awkwardness. “So, thanks.”
“I’m glad it did.” You smile faintly as you bring yourself to look at him once more. “Even if it ended up being kind of a crazy night.” Your eyes indicate towards Xiening and Wonwooo, and Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost tries to be laughter.
“I guess so.”
He’s the one avoiding looking at you now. You glance once more towards the chattering lovebirds before leaning forward a bit in your seat to reduce the space between you and Jihoon. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, debating for a moment if you might be overthinking and making one too many assumptions.
Impulse wins out, and you half-mutter, “You weren’t the crazy part of that night, you know?”
You lower your eyes to the scuffed up tabletop between you for a moment before checking to see if that brought Jihoon’s attention back to you. It is, but he looks for a loss of words. Still, there’s fondness that you recognize in his eyes from when his hands had been pressed to your sides.
“It’s been kinda lonely in the room without you or Xiening there,” you go on, biting lightly on your lip when you offer a tentative smile.
Jihoon does the same double-check as you had that your respective roommates are still too caught up in each other to notice your own discussion. “You were the one who acted like nothing happened at all.”
“I was worried about Xiening.” You worry the truth might not seem solid enough an excuse to Jihoon, but you stick to it nevertheless. “It also wouldn’t have been… great timing if they were about it break up.”
“But they didn’t,” he utters simply, giving a fleeting look their way before focusing in on your face again.
“No, they did not,” you reconfirm, shaking your head slowly. “So…”
“So I’m glad Wonwoo talked me into this.”
You wonder if this is just coming for drinks tonight or the decision to take up Xiening’s offered bed in the first place.  
By the end of the night you’re convinced it’s probably both, because Jihoon isn’t crashing on Xiening’s bed anymore. He’s sleeping in yours.
266 notes · View notes
celestiaroyce-blog · 6 years
Text
Time To Talk | Jason & Celestia
@professor-shaw
(After seeing Sage and Jason kiss, knowing they ended up getting intimate, Stella confronted Jason in the lounge and finally told him about her feelings. However, once she did, the two didn’t talk for a couple of days. This is their meeting to finally talk things through.)
Stella  Jason
Celestia hadn't really done much since her night at the lounge. She remained in her cell with her books and crystals, trying to keep herself distracted and keep away from the world. She took a couple of trips to the cafeteria to get snacks and drinks, but never anything major. She just didn't feel up to anything. The blonde sat in her bed, rereading a C.S Lewis book as most of the cells were empty as the nice summer day had everyone outside. Stella was one of the few staying behind. She heard a slight noise at the door to the cell, figuring it was her roommate. "Hey, Lex." She said, not looking back to see if it was her or not. 
Things hadn't been the easiest..and after what had happened a couple days ago, Jason wasn't doing so good himself. Needless to say, he had not kept too busy, going to the gym a couple of times and making sure he got his client's car serviced in time for his thing. Only one thing had been left to do..and that was by far the most important thing. Stella. He had meant to call her or something..but he had always gotten no signal, no matter how many times he'd tried. So naturally, after a couple of days, he'd decided to go against everything else and come down to see her, dressed up in mostly casual clothing..as his eyes surveyed the space of her shared cell. "Not Lex." he whispered at the witch, "Can I come in?"
Stella took a deep breath as she heard the whisper from the man. She knew the voice by now, making her heart stop for a moment before beating fast. "Y-Yeah." She answered him softly, putting her bookmark back in her book before putting it down. The blonde moved her knees to her chest and hugged them to her, waiting to hear what Jason would say to her since their last meeting.
The male seemed to sigh relievedly, somehow having expected this to be a little bit more difficult at first. But he moved in slowly, taking advantage of her pulling her legs back to sit on the bed, hand pressing down flat onto the mattress. "I just came here to see how you were doin'..and talk, if you still want to." he said, "I'd kind of like to go back the way we were."
As Jason sat down on her bed, Stella simply looked down to Jason's hand that was on her mattress. His words made her swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in her throat as her emotions tried to get the better of her. "The way we were before? Where you didn't know I have a crush on you?" The blonde asked, almost a bitterness in what she said. "Look, Jason... I get it. I don't understand how most of the relationships in this place work. You don't have to sugar coat this with me though. If you only want me to be your friend, then tell me. Just know, I still do have feelings for you and those won't stop that quickly. So, if you want to avoid me, that's fine." Stella explained, making herself feel worse about how she already felt. 
His eyes went slightly narrow, lips curling at one edge. "Well no...just to us, hangin' out as much as we did.." She did look tired, exhausted, almost..and that wasn't something Jason liked to see, ever. Much less when he felt like he had played some part in it. As the blonde spoke, he felt his lips press together tightly, not missing the look in her eye. "Fine..you want me to be honest? Me and Sage are just..old fuck buddies, but I still don't feel like I'm ready to be in a relationship with her or anyone else..I don't know, I feel like it would be time, but I'm still scared that it might mean loosin' someone again." he spoke up, emotion clear in his eyes too. "I don't expect ya to stop feelin' whatever you're feelin'..I, hell --I might have even started to like ya too a little bit, but I'd never avoid ya.."
The Institute was a new monster to her. She had no idea what to expect, nor what would help her. There was more she hated herself for now, angry at herself for being naive and never learning her lesson. As he explained, her eyes still watched the mattress and how it seemed to move to accommodate their movements. Tears formed in her eyes, mainly because she was tired of trying to keep them in. "I'm just..." Her voice was strained as she spoke, clearing her throat to try and aid it. "I'm just a stupid girl who falls for a lot. I fell for the scam this place had set up. I fell for you even though I had no right or reason to. You could be with any other person here and they would probably be a better option than me. After all, you deserve a girl who doesn't actually fall for things and people so easily." 
Jace couldn't stand to look at the tears, much less than her being exhausted, and was quick to let his body react, scooting closer to the blonde the second she started blabbering about not being good enough. "Hey, come on...nobody gets to tell me who I want to spend my time with --and if that's you, then I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna step away." he said, his hand cradling her face gently to brush the tears away, "You forget I fell for this whole thing as well...once." Jace's life was a lot less simple than he usually let on, and there was always a part of him that would be scared. "Come here.." he whispered, opening his arms. 
The blonde let out a soft breath, almost similar to a sob before Jason spoke to her once again. As his hands went to her face, she swallowed hard, but didn't push him away. Stella pursed her lips as she tried to keep from crying, but she knew it wouldn't be possible. When Jace opened his arms up to her, she easily moved forward and hid her face against his shoulder, letting out a quiet sob. "Sorry, Jace." She said through her tears, hands moving to wrap around his waist.
When she dived into his arms, Jace wasted no time in pulling her close, squeezing her little frame in them like he'd been meaning to do for the past couple of days, his chin pressing on top of her golden head. "Don't...see, I'm probably the one who's not good for anyone.." he chuckled dryly, "I'm involved in some heavy crap as it is.." And then there was Layla, his smile flickering at the thought of her and Stella, getting involved somehow. "Can you forgive me for..all of this..?"
As Jason held onto her in return, Stella tried her best to stop her sobs, knowing there was no reason to keep them up. As he mentioned not being good, she shook her head before speaking. "Pardon me, but Jason Shaw, that's bullshit. You're too good for this place." She told him bluntly. As he asked if she could forgive him, she almost laughed. "I don't know why you think you need to be forgiven. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all me." She explained, shaking her head a bit more.
He shifted a hand through her strands of hair and chuckled softly when she called out bullshit, "Alright, so you don't believe me yet..but you will, I guarantee ya." he huffed, "No. People like you are too good for this place and I'm sorry they tricked you into this..you're doin' a great job of puttin' up with it, sweetheart." Jace kissed at the top of her head gently and breathed her in, shaking his head, "Then, can you forgive yourself for me?"
Stella rolled her eyes at his comment about not believing him. However, when he mentioned her doing a good job of handling this place, a wave of sadness hit her again. She wasn't sure of that. She was trying to make the best out of it, but she felt it wasn't working. As he kissed the top of her head, she sighed softly. "Fine." Celestia agreed, slowly pulling back, only so she could look at him. "Myself... I forgive you." She said before chuckling, trying to make light of the situation now.
Jace squished her that much tighter when she seemed to go still, knowing she was probably worrying herself over something. That is, until she pulled back, green eyes trailing up to her face..and those cheeks, red from all the sobbing, "That's a good girl," he smirked as she laughed at her own words, brushing all the blonde tresses aside, "I know it's gonna take time too but you'll get there, I'm sure.." He simply looked at her from there, squinting his eyes as they both fell silent. "I missed you."
Admittedly, hearing those words from Jace, paired with a smirk, made her blush. However, her cheeks were already decently red from crying, so it wasn't obvious. At least she hoped not.  Stella nodded gently at his words before he told her he missed her. A smile came to her lips before she let out a small chuckle. "I... I missed you too, Jace."
The professor thought he saw that smirk but could not figure it out, giving her another long look before glancing over his shoulder, just remembering they weren't exactly alone in here either, "I bet we've given them quite the spectacle, haven't we?" he chuckled, "Do you..wanna go out for some food? Coffee? Do you wanna come home?" he started, cutting himself off short there suddenly and rolling his eyes. "..sorry that was probably inappropriate."
Stella looked him over with a careful expression as he mentioned not being alone. She chuckled softly, even though the mention of coming 'home' was painful but nice. She knew he meant his house, but admittedly, that felt more like home than where they sat. "No, no... you're fine." She reassured him. "How about we go to your place, cuddle Indy and order Chinese or thai food?" Stella suggested, smiling softly.
"Sounds perfect," He was quick to note, giving her back one last rub down before he even dared to part from her, moving back to his original spot on her bed. "..do ya need to change or somethin'? Grab anything?" He intended her to be ready, just in case, and he'd gladly step out of the cell if she needed to do the former, his hand reaching out to take hers.
Stella grinned at his comment and slowly moved to stand as he asked if she needed anything, "Well... if I fall asleep, I should bring some stuff." She told him, moving to grab a backpack and quickly grabbed a couple of clothing items and some hygiene products. She quickly put them in the bag before slinging it over her shoulder. "So... I think I'm good." Stella reassured him.
"Right." He happily let her do, moving out of the way when necessary, to facilitate the whole packing process, and raised to his feet, "Awesome --it's a good thing I drove here, 'cause I feel like I'm too tired to walk." he mused, patting his clothes down before waving a hand towards the door, "Ladies first."
1 note · View note
Text
The sky’s gonna hurt when it falls
Jeremy doesn’t keep many secrets, but maybe he’s gone a bit too far with this one. It’s totally fine though, really! He just has to lie a little more, and then it’ll all be fine again. He just has to show his friends why he loves theatre so much, and then they won’t all leave him when he tells them he’s been keeping it from them for basically their whole friendship! Haha. Yeah…
Jeremy wants to be in the school musical (true), because he wants to get to know Christine (also technically true). Because he has a crush on her (not true)
Word count: 33.5k
Read on AO3
Jermey Heere has a fool-fucking-proof plan.
Well okay, it’s a Jeremy-proof plan, and he’s the biggest idiot he knows, so same thing. No he’s being too harsh on himself again. He’s not that incompetent. He can do this. Definitely maybe. Anyway the point is that it’s a pretty solid plan, and if he follows it everything will be okay. Most likely. Probably. Oh fucking hell who’s he kidding this is gonna end terribly, but he’s sort of stuck with it now.
It started when he said he had a crush on Christine. Wait no it started when he needed an excuse to be in the musical. Actually it probably started the day Mr. Reyes said that they were gonna hold auditions for Heathers The Musical in three weeks. Yup that seems about right. The announcement had come over lunch one crisp September morning and it had marked the beginning of something, or maybe the end. Jeremy isn’t sure yet. He was seated at the usual table, Michael to his left like always, Brooke on his right for a change. Jenna usually sat at his right, but she was on the other side of the table talking Chloes ear off. Not that it looked like Chloe minded, because apparently this was some grade A Gossip-with-a-capital-G. Rich sat next to Michael, and across from Jake. The two were talking about The Game. Jeremy was assuming it was a football game, but he couldn’t be sure, no matter what sport the two talked about it always sounded the same. But it was nice seeing how enthusiastic they were. He was about to add something to the conversation Brooke and Michael had started up about Wonder Woman when Mr. Reyes had coughed loudly into the overhead system, making most of the people in the cafeteria wince.
‘’The drama department would like to announce that this years production is going to be Heathers, that is The Musical. Auditions will be held September 26th. Lines and songs for auditions can be picked up at my office at regular hours, a sign up sheet will be posted on the noticeboard within the week. Have a nice day.’’ and then the system went quiet, and so did everything in Jeremys head. Heathers. They were gonna do Heathers. He’s doomed.
There’s not much Jeremy doesn’t tell his friends, and even less he doesn’t tell Michael, but there are two very big secrets that he has never told a living soul. One of them is that he’s a fucking theatre geek. It hadn’t started as a secret, just something he was a little bit embarrassed to admit to anyone, but then his obsession grew and he still didn’t tell anyone and now it just feels like a big secret even though it might not be that important. It feels important. It feels like his friends are gonna be angry if he tells them now. Either because he’s a nerd or because he kept it from them for so long or maybe even both. It’s irrational, he knows. He never meant for it to build up into this huge thing, but he certainly never planned on telling them either, so make what you want of that. He had a plan. He was gonna ignore it until high school was over, and then he was gonna do…something. Probably either tell them or like gradually open up about liking show tunes or something. Except now there was a wrench in his plans. A Heathers shaped wrench. See, Heathers is Jeremys favorite musical, go figure. He’s wanted to try and be JD in a production for a long while now, and here was his chance. Who knows when he’ll get another opportunity like this? Freeze your brain starts playing on repeat in his head as he watches Michael sip the slushie he got from the 7/11 around the corner, and his heart clenches almost painfully. He’s kept this secret not only form his friends, but also his Best Friend, for a long while now. He’s almost scared. But maybe this can be it? Maybe he can use this to show them how amazing theatre is? God he hopes that’s how it’s gonna work out. At least he can change his name and run away to Seattle if he needs to. He laughs to himself at the reference, and notices Brooke and Michael staring at him. ‘’What?’’
‘’You’re spacing out dude, you okay?’’ Michael asks, a touch of concern in his voice. Brooke nods her head on the other side of him, her hair gently flowing with the motion.
‘’Yeah I’m fine, what were you guys talking about?’’ Jeremy answers. Michael giver him a look that very clearly says he doesn’t believe him, and they will talk about this later. But for now he simply launches back into the debate Brooke and him were having about which Wonder Woman outfit was the coolest.
‘’I mean the movie version is very clearly inspired by actual armor, it’s the most practical and it still stays true to the original design!’’ Brooke argues, and Jeremy nods along. ‘’Okay yes but the original comic book one is iconic, it’s the basis for what we know and love today, and the movie armor wouldn’t have the stylish look if it weren’t for the original.’’ Michael counters. He’s a sucker for source material, even though he can accept the faults of earlier versions of things he likes.
‘’I hear you both,’’ Jeremy says diplomatically.
‘’but also consider issue #209 when she fights Medusa.’’ The other two look scandalized.
‘’Those shoes were terrible!’’ Michael declares.
‘’That wasn’t even close to real armor.’’ Brooke huffs at the same time.
‘’I see my diplomatic skills are unwanted, and will take my leave.’’ Jeremy makes as if to stand up, but the two latch onto one arm each.
‘’You’re not going anywhere until we discuss your terrible taste.’’ Brooke says, a smile tugging at her lips. Michael isn’t as good at schooling his features, and is full on grinning as Jermey gets comfortable in his seat again.
‘’Yeah dude, the movie outfit is way better than that one. Like yeah it’s cool, i mean it’s Wonder Woman, but no. Story 10 outta 10, outfit a solid 4.5.’’ He says, looking to Brooke who nods.
‘’Yeah, I mean I’d have to admit i prefer the original outfit to that glorified monstrosity. I never understood why they always felt like plastering an entire gold eagle on her boobs, Seems inconvenient for fighting.’’ Michael is nodding along sagely.
‘’Peace at last!’’ Jeremy exclaims, and they both punch him in the arm as the three of them descend into giggles. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.
Jeremy has almost forgotten about the musical as he heads to Michaels car. He can see him leaning against the drivers door, headphones on and eyes closed, bobbing his head to a beat. It’s such a familiar and comforting sight that warmth blooms in his chest just by seeing it. And then Michael opens his eyes and sees him, a small but bright smile stretching across his face and the warmth increases tenfold. Jeremy raises the hand not clutching the strap of his backpack to wave, even though he’s only about five cars away. ‘’Michael!’’ he shouts happily, as if he hand’t seen him next to last period. Michaels smile widens a bit and he lowers his headphones to the customary position around his neck.
‘’Hey dude! Ready for some Zombie ass kicking?’’ Michael asks, as if the answer isn’t obvious.
‘’With you? Always.’’ Jeremy says with cheer in his voice as he gets into the passenger side of the car. The stereo is on and blasting some sort of punk, Michael leans over to turn the volume down, the bass line rumbling trough the car.
‘’So, are you going to Richs’ party?’’ Michael asks, eyes on the road. Jeremy consider it for a bit. Rich throws some cool parties, but they tend to be loud, and crowded, and usually something breaks.
‘’Maybe, depends on how I’m doing I guess. You?’’ Jeremy is looking directly at Michael, staring really, because he knows Michael will keep his eyes on the road anyway.
‘’I mean if you go I’ll go. No offense to any of our friends, but i don’t really like drunk people, so you’re really the only one worth hanging around at parties.’’ Something in Jeremys chest tightens again.
‘’I’m not the only sober one at parties though, you know Jenna doesn’t drink, and Chloe goes light on her booze too.’’ He counters, he doesn’t know why, but he just needs to hear what Michael will say next.
‘’Yeah, but they’re not you.’’ Oh, okay yeah, good answer. He’s glad he asked after all.
They finally turn onto the street the two of them live on, and Michael parks his car in front of his house. It’s a quick hello to his moms before they both disappear into the basement. They throw their bags by the bottom of the stairs and collapse into their respective beanbags.
‘’Okay so I’ve given it some thought and i genuinely believe we can just ignore the first dude and just go.’’ Michael says as he boots up the game. Blood dripping letters appear on the screen as the scream track plays something that the game developers must have thought of as ‘bloodcurdling’.
‘’Really? He doesn’t like come after us or anything?’’ Jeremy asks almost disbelievingly. He watches as Michael selects their save. Level 9.
‘’Yeah I tested it out briefly, if we just push past him he’s gone.’’ Michael confirms, pressing start. The level music for The Cafetorium leaks trough the speakers. Tinny and 8bit, and Jeremy is pretty sure he’s never gonna get that melody out of his head after how many times he’s heard it on repeat just trying to beat this god damned level.
‘’Alright dude, let’s go!’’ Michael whoops, as if it’s the two of them actually gearing up to mad dash by a raving lunatic.
‘’Right behind you!’’ Jeremy yells back, and then they exit the double doors right behind the pixelated avatar of their enemy. The first wave of zombies rushes them, but they’re prepared.
The musical doesn’t really enter Jeremys head again until he’s back home. His dad was sat on the sofa, pants-less of course, and had ignored him as he trekked up to his own room. Lying in bed he puts his headset on, he doesn’t use it as often as Michael uses his, but it’s still important to him. He puts his music on shuffle, and almost like a sign ‘I am damaged’ starts playing. He listens to JD beg Veronica to back away. He can picture the scene in his head. The song is only one and a half minutes long, but he feels the explosion at the end reverberating inside his skull. He gets up and skips ahead until ‘freeze your brain’ comes on, and then he lip syncs the entire number as he envisions himself strolling trough a stage set up of 7/11. With each pretend word he sings he feels his courage build, until he forgets to only pretend to sing. He can’t really hear himself over the music in his ears, but he feels the sound in his throat as he sings the words.
Freeze your brain
Shatter your skull
Fight pain with more pain
Forget who you are
Unburden your load
‘’JEREMY!’’ he hears his dad shout from downstairs. He pauses the music, pulls the headphones off.
‘’Sorry dad!’’ He shouts back, listens as his dad walks away from the staircase and back to the sofa. Jeremy sighs and looks at himself in the full length mirror on his closet door. He doesn’t really look like a JD. He’s skinny, gangly, eyes too big and face too…awkward. He opens his closet and pulls something out from the very back. It’s a very long very black something. He slips the trench coat on, flips the collar up, stuffs his hands in his pockets. Tries to look vaguely threatening. It doesn’t really work, so he tries for angry. Nope, still no good. He tries to make his face a blank mask, and for a second he thinks he has something, and he breaks into a grin from the joy of it. Oh wait. He sighs, runs his hands trough his hair, messing it up. He’s really thinking about doing this. Maybe he can just lie to his friends? Pretend he’s doing something else? But no that wouldn’t work. Plus he doesn’t feel too comfortable lying even more to his friends.
His mind drifts for a bit. Remembers last years performance of Romeo and Juliet. They’d all gone to see it together, just because. Supporting your local actors or whatever. Christine had been an amazing Juliet. He’s pretty sure he saw Jake cry when she killed herself at the end. Christine is an amazing person overall, she has such endless enthusiasm for theatre. Actually she has it for just about everything she does. Jeremy has kinda admired that about her since freshman year. And maybe secretly wanted to be her friend too. He’s just…way too awkward to make friends. Honestly? He’s only part of the friend group he is in now because of Michael. He’s known Michael since kindergarten, but Michael befriended Rich, and Rich brought along Jake, and Jake used to date Chloe but they’re friends now, and Chloe brought along Brooke and Jenna, and here they are. Somehow they all get along, and it’s nice. They’re all different, but they mesh in different ways and it’s pretty great. His mind drifts back to Christine again, and it hits him.
The Perfect Plan.
It’s Wednesday, and the audition sign up sheet is on the noticeboard. I repeat, the audition sign up sheet is on the noticeboard. Jeremy had seen it as he headed into lunch that day, and he couldn’t get it out of his head. He’d briefly glanced at the names already written, and he had seen Christines. It was the only one written in glitter gel pen. God that’s adorable. It takes Michael three tries to get Jeremy to notice him, so he’s already suspicious when Jeremy makes his way over and sits down next to him. He’s the third to arrive, Michael and Rich have History together.
‘’Dude, you’ve been totally spaced this week. Everything okay?’’ Michael asks, there’s concern in his voice and his eyes, and Jeremy feels so lucky. Michael is the best friend anyone could ask for, especially Jeremy. He knows Michael is asking about a lot of different things with that question alone.
‘’I’ve just been thinking about something, I’ll tell you when the others get here.’’ Michael raises an eyebrow, but drops it all the same. Best friend ever.
It doesn’t take long for the rest to show up, and Jeremy has to keep himself from laughing as Michael fidgets. Obviously anxious for Jeremy to share what he’s been keeping to himself for three days straight. That’s a long time for Jeremy to keep a lid on something in his book.
‘’So…’’ Jeremy starts, before the different conversations within the group really have a chance to begin. They all look at him, noticing that he wants their attention. They’re good friends, he finds himself thinking again.
‘’I’ve been thinking about joining the musical this year.’’ he says, feeling his confidence and his voice slowly draining away as they look at him. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.
‘’Really?’’ Chloe asks in that Voice, and he knows she doesn’t mean it like that but it’s a blow to his confidence all the same.
‘’Yeah I-I uh, I’ve kinda been uhm… c-c-crushing on Christine for a while.’’ he admits softly, staring at the table now instead of meeting anyones eyes. He misses the look that passes between them.
‘’And she uh, s-she always… participates? In productions?’’ he glances up, he can feel his face heat up and he’s pretty sure he matches the shade of Michaels hoodie at this point. Hiding his face in said hoodie sounds like a very good option right about now, but he soldiers on.
‘’I f-figured I could get to, like, know her? And maybe ask her out?’’ he glances over at Michael, and for a split second he doesn’t know what to feel, because Michaels face has an expression that he’s never seen before. It feels like someone has ripped the floorboards out from underneath him, and he’s falling and floating at the same time, in uncharted void, as he holds Michael stare for a second. Then Michael gives him a reassuring smile, and he’s dumped back into his body, moment over. He glances around at the rest of their friends, and they’re all wearing something similar. Encouraging. Friendly. Jeremy feels his shoulders sink from where they’d hunched up around his ears, tension easing away.
‘’Go for it dude!’’ Michael says, and it’s as if he has given the signal, because suddenly they’re all encouraging him. Not to be in the musical, but to go after Christine. It’s alright, he thinks, but he can’t help the slight stab of sadness in his gut. The encouragement is nice though, even if it’s for the most untrue part of this plan.
At the end of lunch Michael follows him to the notice board, watches as Jeremy pulls out a green sharpie and hovers the tip over the next blank line. Jeremy hesitates. Michael notices.
‘’Even if you don’t get a part, you can probably talk to her during auditions, or even bond over the experience. Either way it’ll be fine dude.’’ Michael places a hand on Jeremys shoulder, it’s warm trough the thin fabric of his cardigan, and he feels the warmth seep into his bones, calming him. He takes a deep fortifying breath, and writes his name, followed by the part he’s auditioning for. Michael reads over his shoulder. ‘’JD? Isn’t he like, the main character?’’ Jeremy stiffens a bit.
‘’U-uh yeah, I figured Christine would be Veronica, so why not?’’ he can’t look Michael in the eyes as he says it, looks at the wall instead. He feels something bad and rotten in his stomach. He really doesn’t like lying to his friends, but he consoles himself that it’ll all be over after this. He’ll come clean. It doesn’t really make him feel much better.
‘’Do you want me to come watch your audition, for y’know, moral support?’’ Michael offers, and it’s a sweet thought, really.
‘’No!’’ Jeremy answers way too quickly. He clears his throat, tries again.
‘’No, it’s fine, really. I think I’d be more nervous with you there actually.’’ he mutters, looking up at Michael quick enough to catch the slightly hurt expression. He backtracks like a pro.
‘’N-not that it’s a bad thing or anything, it’s just that I’d be way more worried about messing up in front of you since you’re my best friend and stuff.’’ he rushes trough the sentence in one breath, eyes darting to the wall and back to Michaels face again. Michael has a slight smile, and worried eyes. He slings one arm around Jeremys shoulders, and it’s one of the few instances Jeremy appreciates being a few inches shorter than Michael. It feels safe, reassuring.
‘’It’s cool, dude. I get it.’’ Michael says lightly, in a tone that means he really does get it. It makes Jeremy relax instantly, almost melting into Michaels warm side. He could stay there forever, probably. Tucked away from the world, surrounded by the smell of the basement that’s ingrained itself in every piece of clothing Michael owns. the bell rings, completely shattering the moment. Jeremy is going to kill that bell one day, he swears it.
‘’Time for class, let’s go to hell.’’ Michael says as he steers them towards their shared math class. The only bearable thing in math class is Michael, Jeremy thinks bitterly, but allows himself to be roped along.
They head back to Michaels after school, as is customary, but this time the rest of the gang tags along. Michael and Jeremy have been complaining about Apocalypse of the Damned for what feels like forever, and they wanna see what it’s all about. It’s not the first time they’ve had gaming sessions like this at Michaels. They’ve had some intense game-night-turned-game-weekend sessions. Michaels mother greet them all as they enter, his other mom is still at work.
‘’Want me to bring you kids some snacks?’’ she asks, and Michael bounds over to kiss her on the cheek.
‘’Yes please and thank you, Ina!’’ he chirps. There’s a chorus of ‘Thank you Mrs. Mell’ from the rest of the teens as they all make their way down the dark stairway.
‘’One day someone is gonna trip and die on these stairs.’’ Rich says, like he does every time he has to walk down the steps in the dark. Nobody really pays him any mind. When they’ve all made it down safely, the extra beanbag is pulled up next to the other two, and the small sofa is shoved up behind them. Michael and Jeremy take up their usual spaces. Jeremy on the far right, Michael in the middle, and then Rich plops down on the far left one. Jenna curls up in the right corner of the sofa, Brooke and Chloe cuddle up in the middle, and Jake lounges on the left side. The seating is gonna get scrambled as soon as they start switching seats to give the others a go, but it starts like this. Michael boots up them game, finds the level 9 save file, and Jeremy feels like he’s going insane as soon as the first few notes of music hits his ears. Without further ado they push past the first guy, bursting trough the double doors at the back. The first wave of zombies hit them, and they both duck for cover behind upturned tables.
‘’Cover!’’ Michael shouts as he spots the opening in the wave pattern, advancing as Jeremy shoots down the zombies that get too close. Michaels pixelated avatar crouches behind another table, a small box right next to it. He selects it and adds the grenades to his inventory. In the meantime Jeremys character has jumped behind the counter, and armed itself with a knife. As Jeremy makes his way back to where Michaels avatar is, with some helpful cover fire, they wait for the opening. Jeremy spots where the mass of approaching zombies is the thinnest first.
‘’Upper level!’’ he says, and Michael responds with a simple ‘’I see it.’’ Michael launches a grenade and the wave opens. ‘’Dash!’’ he yells, doing just that. Jeremy takes up the rear, making sure the wave doesn’t close in around them from the back, while Michael keeps it open in the front as they advance. The game progresses like this, the two of them only communicating in short words, but otherwise knowing exactly where they need to be. The others are at the edges of their seats. It’s not a terribly exciting game, but it’s an experience watching the two of them play it together.
‘’Shit!’’ Michael swears, as he accidentally makes his avatar go the way jeremys was supposed to go. They’ve played it a lot of times, and Jeremy is the one who’s most used to dealing with this part of the level. He notices, of course.
‘’Switch.’’ Jeremy says, and almost as quick as lightning the two of them switch controllers, leaving Michael free to go where he needs to, and Jeremy to take care of the area Michael had wandered into.
They almost make it. Michael lets out a dramatic ‘Jeremyyyyyy!’ as his avatar crumples to the ground in a pixelated heap. Jeremy croaks in his best death rattle,
‘’It’s up to you now Mikey, you’ve gotta go on.’’ and go on he does. He fights valiantly, and gets further than the two ever did before. He can see what he thinks might be the exit, and also the end of the level, but before he reaches it the final wave overpowers him.
‘’This one’s for Miah.’’ he says in his best action hero-y voice as he sets off the final grenade, taking down almost all of the zombies surrounding him, and his own avatar.  The other laugh and whoop and start a small fight over who gets to go next. Michael hands his controller to Rich, and gets up to switch places with Jake. Jeremy gives Jake his controller as he sits down. Michael curls up on the sofa and watches the blue light form a halo around Jeremys fluffy hair. He sighs, and Brooke catches his eye and lifts one perfectly shaped eyebrow. He shrugs her look off, goes back to watching Rich and Jake get overrun by zombies, and trying not to back seat game. When they’ve died five times in a row Chloe gets up and stands next to Jeremy until he gets then hint. Jeremy gets up and plops down in the open space next to Michael while Chloe demands that Jake hands over the controller, citing that he’s obviously the weaker link. Jeremy feels tired, he’s been stressing about a lot of things lately, so he does what feels natural. Which of course is lean on Michael to get comfortable and then promptly fall asleep. He vaguely feels Michael wrap an arm around him before he’s completely gone. It’s warm, safe, and smells a little bit like weed. Not that he minds. It’s come to the point where weed literally just reminds him of Michael.
‘’Nap time?’’ he hears Michaels voice, far away. It sounds lower than usual, as if he’s whispering. Jeremy faintly feels the breath of the words ghost across his cheek. He nods slowly, effectively smooshing his face further into Michaels hoodie, making the other laugh a little. A hand settles in his hair, and then he’s out like a light.
September 26th approaches with a vengeance, and Jeremy feels like he’s gonna explode from the nerves. Sure he’s excited, there are butterflies in what feels like every little nook and cranny of his body, even his fingertips are tingling with it. But oh god the crushing feeling of impending doom isn’t something he can easily ignore. His friends notice it all throughout the day, from his fidgeting in class to the way he keeps spacing out trying to get to his next one. When lunch rolls around Jeremy is the first one seated at their table, he looks like a statue, body and face frozen in a neutral pose. It’s worrying, to say the least.
‘’Heyyyy buddy!’’ Rich says as he plops down i the seat on Jeremys right.
‘’How’s it hanging?’’ Michael adds on as he settles in on the left. Jeremys hands are shaking where they rest on the table, but doesn’t acknowledge their arrival. Michael and Rich share a concerned look as the others settle in around them. Brooke leans over from her seat across from Jeremy to cover his hands with hers. His head snaps up to look at her, as if he just realized they were all there.
‘’You know you can back out, right? You can find another way to talk to Christine I’m sure.’’ she offers him, her tone is reassuring, aiming for comforting. Jenna joins in from Brookes right,
‘’Yeah Jerm, we could even talk to her for you. This is like, really stressing you out.’’
He appreciates the effort, but it’s all aimed at the wrong thing so he can’t really find solace in what they’re telling him. He takes a deep breath, trying to get his voice under control.
‘’I’m mostly just sc-cared of making a f-fool out of myself. What if I do a terrible job? What if I’m not a convincing JD? What if my voice cracks when I sing?’’ he’s shooting off rapid-fire what-ifs and Michael decides he needs to put a stop to this.
‘’Jerbear, look at me.’’ he cuts in. Jeremy snaps his mouth shut, whips his head around to look at Michael.
‘’You’ll do fine, you’ve been reading like crazy, and don’t think I haven’t caught on to the song you’ve been humming for the past week and a half. You’re gonna go in there, you’re gonna do your thing, and it’ll be great.’’ Michaels warm brown eyes are deep, and looking like they’re begging for Jeremy to calm down. So he does. His shoulders sag as the tension in his body releases, his hands uncurling. Brookes hands are still holding onto his, and they’re warm and nice. A lot warmer than his are, that’s for sure. Also a lot less clammy. Ew.
‘’Are you sure you don’t want us to come as moral support?’’ Rich asks for what feels like the 100th time. They’ve all offered, and Jeremy has declined each time, just as he’s doing now.
‘’Yeah, no. I really appreciate the gesture, but if I know you’re watching I’ll just get more nervous.’’
They can sense that he’d rather leave it alone for now, so that’s what they do. Lunch passes relatively quiet for the otherwise rowdy bunch.
‘’I’m just saying, he said he’d be nervous if he KNEW we were there, so if he doesn’t know it’ll be fine, right?’’ Jake argues. Rich is by his side, nodding enthusiastically.
‘’What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?’’ Brooke adds on carefully.
‘’We’re still going behind his back, doing something he doesn’t want us to do!’’ Michael argues.
‘’As his friends we really should respect what he wants.’’ Jenna says, flanking Michael. The two stare down Jake and Rich as Brooke and Chloe keep to the sidelines, holding hands.
‘’If we keep arguing about this we’re gonna miss it!’’ Rich almost yells. They’ve been periodically peeking in trough the side door, to the annoyance of some of the people close by, trying to keep track of where Jeremy is in the lineup. As Jake peeks in once more he suddenly snaps to attention.
‘’It’s his turn!’’ he whisper-yells excitedly. He’d caught Jeremy introducing himself, he was gonna start singing soon! Michael steps in front of the door.
‘’I’m not letting you do this.’’ he says as he adopts a defensive stance. They all know it’ll create too much of a commotion if they were to try and get past Michael. Something in Richs eyes flash, and then he grabs Jakes arm and runs for the staircase. The others stare after them in confusion before Chloe realizes where they’re headed.
‘’The back entrance!’’ she yells, taking off after them and dragging Brooke behind her. Michael and Jenna are quick to follow. They catch sight of Rich and Jake right as they sneak in trough the door, and hurry to follow them as quietly as they can.
‘’Don’t open a veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeein!’’ Jeremy sings from the stage, and they freeze. Sure, they’ve all heard him sing before, but nothing like this. His voice is raw with emotion, lifting and falling, his eyebrows are drawn and he stares across the empty auditorium as if he isn’t really seeing it but is still looking for an answer somewhere out there. Michael feels like those eyes are staring into the very core of his soul. His voice grows softer.
‘’Just freeeeeze your braaaaaaiiiin. Freeeeze your braaiiiiiiin. Go on and freeeeze your braaaiiiin.’’
The music cuts out suddenly, and Jeremy is left standing there. Wholly himself again and flushed with nerves. He says thank you and leaves the stage.
It had all been over in a flash for Jeremy. He’d gone up there, stomach protesting and hands cold and clammy. Then the music started and he fell into the well practiced words with ease. Let the music carry him and tell him who and where to be. It’s over before he registers the tightness in his chest. As if the music had dragged his voice out of him before his nerves could protest. He’s not sure if he did good or bad, can barely remember how he’d moved while he’d been singing those words. It was almost like back home, just singing because he liked it, letting the music carry him away. He steps off the stage with legs that feel like they’re gonna give out from under him any second, and thus stumbles into Christine. He’d watched as she’d delivered the section from the opening number as Veronica, and of course she had been perfect. She reaches out and steadies him, the next one in the lineup steps past them to go on stage.
‘’Woah hey there, you okay?’’ she asks. He fights with the lump in his throat, trying to force words out instead of weird grunting noises.
‘’U-u-uh ye-yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Fine. Totally fine. Peachy, even.’’ he tries for a smile, but it obviously doesn’t work from the look on her face.
‘’Why don’t we go sit over there?’’ She points to a few seats off to the side, and he nods dumbly. She leads him over, guides him to sit in the chair before taking the one next to him. She doesn’t let go of his arm.
‘’You were amazing.’’ she says finally, and he chokes on air.
‘’Th-thank you. You too. Amazing. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna get the part.’’ he says once he can breathe somewhat normal again. She blushes and smiles. Geez that smile is brighter than the stage lights. It looks good on her.
‘’Thanks, I’m pretty sure you’ll get JD too actually.’’ and yup he’s out again.
‘’I don’t know about that. This is literally the first time I’ve auditioned for anything. I barely remember even going up there.’’ he says in a soft voice. She stares at him, almost as if in disbelief.
‘’That was your first? Oh my gosh! That’s so cool!’’ She says brightly, volume rising, and that smile is back and he’s pretty sure he’s gonna be blind by the time he’s introduced himself properly. Oh right, introductions.
‘’I’m Jeremy.’’ he says without any preamble, because that’s what his brain has decided on apparently.
‘’I’m Christine! Nice to meet you!’’ she answers anyway, volume increasing once again, because apparently she’s very used to dealing with weirdos. It wouldn’t surprise him really.
‘’My friends and I are gonna go get milkshakes after this, as a celebration I guess, wanna come with?’’ and hoo boy okay brain please slow down and check in once in a while before making him say things like that holy hell. This was not what he was planning but apparently he’s lost his god damned mind. Christine just smiles, her eyes crinkling and teeth pearly white.
‘’I’d love to!’’ she says, and this time someone does shush her.
The gang watches Christine grab Jeremys arm and lead him over to the chairs by the wall.
‘’Oh my god is he panicking? I can’t tell from here!’’ Brooke whisper-yells at the others. They all watch as the two of them talk, Christines smile never leaving, Jeremys face a bright red. And then the auditions are over and they’re getting up to leave.
‘’Shit we gotta go back!’’ Jake exclaims, clambering for the door. They’d promised Jeremy they’d wait outside the auditorium for him. The six of them rush out the back door and fly down the staircase, having just enough time to catch their breaths before Jeremy spots them trough the throng of students, he waves at them and as he comes closer they see Christine trailing behind him.
Holy.
Shit.
‘’H-hey guys.’’ he says as he gets within hearing range.
‘’I asked if Christine wanted to come with, is that c-cool?’’ his face is still very red. It takes a second for the question to register, and then they’re all clambering to reassure them both that yeah that’s totally fine and cool, the more the merrier. They all start heading towards the parking lot, Christine and Jeremy end up at the back of the group, and the others leave them be. Except they’re all totally listening in of course.
‘’I really loved you performance in Romeo and Juliet by the way. The way you handled the death scene was so good. I cried.’’ Jeremy says, and the others want to smack him upside the head. Yes he’d cried, but you don’t say that to someone. Except Christine doesn’t look too bothered about it, she looks…happy?
‘’Really? That’s such a huge compliment! Romeo and Juliet always moves me to tears when done right, to know that I managed to do the same is a great feeling!’’ her enthusiasm is never ending it seems, as she keeps up the conversation for the most part, Jeremy nodding and smiling, interjecting comments here and there. When they reach the parking lot they automatically split up, Rich and Jake heading to Jakes car, Brooke leading Chloe and Jenna to hers, which leaves Christine to follow Jeremy to Michaels car.
‘’It’s cool if she rides with us, right?’’ Jeremy asks Michael, and it’s probably the most at ease he’s sounded since he exited the auditorium. Michael doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that it’s probably because Jeremy is talking to him.
‘’Of course dude!’’ he turns to Christine to shoot her a grin, but she’s already beaten him to it. She opens the door to the backseat and sits in the middle, so she can lean forwards and be a part of any conversation going on in the front. Michael takes his seat behind the wheel and Jeremy claims shot gun as per usual. Michael briefly wonders if he should banish Jeremy to the backseat, so that he can sit next to Christine, but the thought doesn’t sit right with him so he leaves it be.
‘’How’d your auditions go?’’ Michael asks nonchalantly. Glancing at Christine in the rearview mirror, and then sideways at Jeremy.
‘’I-I don’t know dude, I don’t remember much between getting up there and practically stumbling off stage afterwards. It could have been worse?’’ Jeremy says in an unsure voice, switching between looking at the road ahead and looking at Michael. He’s about to respond when Christine cuts him off,
‘’Are you kidding me? You were the best JD candidate by far! You hit every note perfectly, and the level of emotion! Wow! You said this was your first audition? You handled it like a pro! Even though you seemed a bit nervous, but most people are during auditions anyway.’’ Christine rambles. Michael watches Jeremys face, which had recently reverted to a somewhat normal hue, flare back into brilliant red. His hands creep up and up until he’s covering his eyes, and then he wraps his arms around his head as if he’s trying to hide.
‘’I think you broke him.’’ Michael says with a laugh catching Christines eye in the mirror, she looks worried.
‘’It’s fine, if he was as good as you say, he deserves all the praise.’’ Michael amends, lifting one hand off of the steering wheel to ruffle Jeremys hair. Christine is beaming again, and Jeremy lowers his arms a bit before speaking up,
‘’You were amazing too, you know. You’d make the best Veronica for sure.’’ he doesn’t say much more, too embarrassed to go on, but Christine soaks up the praise nonetheless.
September makes way for October. Halloween is quickly approaching, and Jeremy has officially known Christine for about a month. She’s started sitting at their table, always next to Jeremy, always on his right side. Michael sits in his seat to Jeremeys left, and he doesn’t know how Christine knew that was the usual deal, but he’s glad he can keep sitting there without any uncomfortable confrontations. It’s a small piece of normal in what’s been an unusual month so far. Jeremy spends a lot of his free time practicing with Christine. This means he spends less time with his other friends. Oh sure the two of them join the group for stuff, but they always sort of keep to themselves a little. It’s like they’re seeing a new side of Jeremy. It’s sort of cute, seeing him blush and stumble over his words, like he did with all of them before he settled into his space within the group, until he got comfortable with them and started trusting them. But it’s also a bit…disconcerting in a way. They haven’t seen Jeremy this enthused over almost anything, except maybe video game night with Michael. It also doesn’t help that he’s become somewhat stagnant in his pursuit of Christine.
They see how she looks at him, she hangs onto every word and encourages him to open up, she latches onto his right arm (always the right arm) every time they hang out. It’s so obvious that she like him! Like, look at them right now;
‘’A-and then I-I started doing her lines instead of mine!’’ Jeremy admits to the table during his re-telling of last night rehearsal fiasco. His face is red, but he’s smiling, and there’s laughter in his voice. He’s so comfortable admitting to ding something wrong, it’s strange, because the Jeremy they know is so scared of failure.Always second guessing himself and worrying about what other people think. He worries a bit less that they’ll thing anything bad about him, but he had admitted once that even then he sometimes worries just because he can’t help it. Even though he logically knows that he doesn’t have to. So to see him like this, at ease with telling them about something embarrassing he did, Christine clothing his arm and laughing along with the story, interjecting a few comments from her perspective of the whole ordeal. It paints a strange, yet pleasant picture.
They’re good for each other, that much is plain for all to see. Christine used to hop lunch tables, not uncommon for someone with so many different interests, but it seems like it’s doing her some good with stable friendships. She’s been talking to the other girls a lot outside of school for instance. Connecting and sharing gossip, sharing tips and tricks for their daily lives. They’ve also found that while she isn’t that into video games she still likes watching them play, and she’s a blast to bring to the arcade. Watching her decimate previous high scores on the Dance Dance Revolution and karaoke machines is sight to behold. She looks so alive and happy with the neon lights illuminating her face, the cheers of support from the sidelines egging her on further than ever before. The Undefeated Queen of DDR is legendary.
Chatroom: F I G H T
AmericanDragon: hey hey hEYYYYY
AmericanDragon: HALLOWEEN PARTY CONFIRMED™
AmericanDragon: ur all comin no excuses
RichBich: hells yeah dude!
Player1: f yea
DDRqueen: I love halloween parties!!
MythicBinch: sure
GossipGirl: I’ll be there!
BeanieBabe: yay!!!! i’m gonna get my costume ready!!!!
Player2: nice!
AmericanDragon added RichBich, GossipGirl, BeanieBabe, MythicBinch and Player1 to the chat
AmericanDragon named chat ‘now kiss’
AmericanDragon: lets get our boy some ACTION
Player1: wtf jake
GossipGirl: What’s the plan?
AmericanDragon: good attitude
AmericanDragon: we’re gonna get jerms n chrissy together if its the last thing we do on halloween
BeanieBabe: but how???
MythicBinch: easy. truth or dare
Player1: remind me to never cross u
MythicBinch: do u even need a reminder?
Player1: good point
Player1: okay so we get drunk, we play truth or dare, then what? and isn’t this a bit juvenile?
AmericanDragon: nah this is perf!
RichBich: omfg yea totes, we dare him to tell her
Player1: that’s never gonna work dude, he’d just get mad at us
GossipGirl: We dare Chrissy to kiss Jerms, and then proceed from there?
RichBich: better plan okay fine i bow down in the dust for the power of Rolan
GosspiGirl: Finally, the respect I deserve
Player1: that might just work actually, let’s go
The party is in full swing that weekend. It’s mainly the gang and a few friends from their classes, but everyone is singing and drinking and dancing and having a good time. Jake is pretty sure he just saw Brooke dressed as the dog filter on snapchat, that’s fucking awesome. He wanders towards the kitchen and finds Christine talking to Jenna. She’s wearing a floor-length gown in deep purple, and she looks regal. Jenna is wearing a t-shirt that someone has written ‘COSTUME’ on in sharpie. It makes him chuckle. Christine catches his eye and she smiles, so he walks closer.
‘’So I said What the hell Michael Mell, and I didn’t even notice I was doing the rhyming thing too!’’ Jenna says and Christine bursts out laughing.
‘’Is that where it’s from? Jeremy says it all the time!’’ Christine says once she can breathe again. Jenna raises an eyebrow.
‘’He hasn’t told you? Doesn’t he talk about Michael?’’ Jenna asks, and Jake wants to shake her just a little bit. Jenna shoots him a glance as if she knows what he’s thinking, and telling him to let her do her thing. He swallows nervously.
‘’Oh all the time! It’s nice, they’ve been friends for so long so he has a lot of good stories.’’ Christine smiles, not a trace of jealousy in her expression. Jenna wants to frown. Christine is just too sweet for such a tactic.
‘’Speaking of Jeremy, you heard anything from him or Michael? They’re running late.’’ Jenna transitions smoothly. Christine looks expectantly at Jake.
‘’Nothing, I’ll text Jeremy. Michaels probably driving.’’ Jake says as he finds his phone.
To Jeremy:
yo dude where u guys at?
The phone in Jeremys pocket buzzes with the incoming text, but he doesn’t notice. He’s sitting in Michaels car, looking at Jakes front door, and not moving. He’s been like that for the past 5 minutes. Trying to convince himself that going in there won’t be the most horrible kind of torture he could put himself trough. It’s not working. He knows he’ll have a good time if he just goes. He always has a good time at Jakes parties, he always always has a good time with his friends, and lately also with Christine. And she’s in there too. The thought makes the weight in his stomach turn over nauseatingly. The thought of people looking at him is really no appealing though. He vaguely finds himself wishing he could just crawl into a deep dark abyss and never come back. Just disappear into nothingness so he doesn’t have to deal with everything.
‘’You ready?’’ Michael asks him. He’d said he needed a minute to prepare. And it’s true, sometimes he just needs to psyche himself up before social events like these. And then he goes out there and he’s fine and he has his friends if he’s not fine and it’s good. It’s all good.
It’s not working. Jeremy glances over and looks at Michaels expectant face. He doesn’t look too happy about this party either, but he hides it better than Jeremy, that’s for sure.
‘’I-I-I-I ca-a-an’t M-Mikey.’’ Jeremy stutters out. His hands are so cold. His skin feels like it’s too big and too tight, as if it’s been stretched over shapes it’s not supposed to cover. God he’s so uncomfortable. He closes his eyes, curls up in the passenger seat. Michael looks him over, then sighs.
‘’Wanna go home?’’ he asks, voice soft and understanding. He knows the feeling all too well himself. Jeremy peeks out at him, and the sight makes Michael a little sad. There’s so much tension in his posture, so much worry in his eyes. Michael has the urge to gather him up and tuck him away from the uncaring and unforgiving world Jeremy has built around himself.
‘’I’m sorry. You can drop me off and then come back.’’ he says in a tiny voice. Michaels heart breaks a little more.
‘’Nah dude, I’d rather hang with you.’’ Michael smiles, and starts the car before Jeremy can protest.
Chatroom: F I G H T
Player1: i’m taking miah home
RichBich: shot hopes he feels better soon!
RichBich: *shit
GosspiGirl: Send him our love!
BeanieBabe: <3 <3 <3 !!!
MythicBinch: <3
AmericanDragon: damn, keep him safe
Christine looks up from her phone as the messages stop appearing one after another. She looks over to Jenna quizzically, and when she catches her eye Jenna sighs.
‘’You’ve noticed that Jeremy gets nervous a lot, right?’’ she opens with, and Christine can only nod. Of course she knew, it wasn’t really something you could easily miss about the boy.
‘’Well he has like, social anxiety? It gets to him sometimes. Michael has it too, so he understands the best, and they usually take care of each other when it gets rough.’’ Jenna explains. Short and to the point. Christine is quick to unlock her phone again, pulling up the group chat.
DDRqueen: <3!!
The chat is a weird place for her sometimes. There are a lot of references she doesn’t get. Like why the chat is named ‘F I G H T’. Jeremy had mentioned it was left over from an argument they’d had about pastries ages ago, and then it had just stuck. But she enjoyed it nonetheless.
Then there are times like these when someone will say something and everyone has the same response and she’s left sitting in the dust until someone explains it to her. She’d admitted at one point that she felt a bit stupid when that happened, but they’d all quickly reassured her that it was fine. It was a lot of fun trying to explain the different things to her, and they wanted her to be able to join in of course, she was part of the group now! Sometimes she still felt like Jeremys tag along though. Like right now, she felt a little lost, adrift in a sea of people she doesn’t know all that well, with no Jeremy to tie her down. Oh well, she muses. No better time to get to know them better, right? She jumps back into animated conversation with Jenna and Jake.
When Jeremy gets home he collapses face first into his bed before clutching his pillow to his chest and curling up on his side, facing outwards. Michael puts the ‘Sad Chill’ playlist on from Jeremys laptop. The soft notes slowly fill the room, and Michael sits down with his back against the bed. While the circumstances aren’t ideal, it feels nice, being just the two of them again. Jeremys arm creeps out over the edge of the bed and dangles next to Michaels shoulder. He reaches up and grabs it, running his fingers over the knuckles and noting the way it’s slowly warming up. Jeremy sighs deeply, trying to melt into the welcoming softness of his bedsheets. Maybe if he could just disappear into the comforting softness it would all be better. The warm hand holding his isn’t too bad either.
‘’Wanna talk?’’ Michaels voice cuts into the music, but Jeremy doesn’t really mind. He likes Michaels voice.
‘’I’m sorry for stopping you from going to the part.’’ Jeremy says instead of a real answer. Michael squeezes his hand.
‘’Don’t apologize dude, it’s cool. You’d do the same for me.’’ Jeremy smiles slightly and tucks his face into the pillow.
‘’Yeah, I would.’’ is the muffled answer, but Michael still hears it, and it makes him smile. It’s the quickest way to get Jeremy to stop beating himself up over something like this. They both know Jermey would drop just about anything to come to Michaels aid, and vice versa. It’s a good feeling to be able to trust someone like that. Of course there are always things you just can’t drop, instances where just being there isn’t an option, but the good thing about friends is that they understand that too.
‘’You’re my favorite person, Mikey.’’ Jeremy says, and he sounds so very tired, and it’s adorable. It’s not the first time a half-asleep Jeremy has said something like that to him, but it doesn’t stop the way his stomach flutters, the way his fave heats up and a smile involuntarily stretches across his lips.
‘’You’re mine too, Miah. Now take a nap’’ he answers. The hand in his goes slack not soon after, breaths evening out. He doesn’t let go.
Chatroom: now kiss
RichBich: well thats that plan out the window
RichBich: any other suggestions?
Player1: i’m sorta happy we didn’t go trough with the plan, looking back it’s a terrible plan
GosspiGirl: How dare you
Player1: no i’m serious! it would be a hell of an uncommon sitch
Player1: we’ll just figure out something else
AmericanDragon: i’ve got an idea!
BeanieBabe:??
MythicBinch: jake?
RichBich: Where’d he go?
GosspiGirl: I see him, he’s talking to Chrissy
AmericanDragon: what??
Player1: well what he sayin?
GosspiGirl: idk hang on
Jake had made his way over to Christine with purpose in his step. She’d been hanging by the wall, taking a break from trying to interact with people, and didn’t notice Jake until he’d leaned up against the wall next to her. She turned her head and smiled at him, but before she could say anything he started speaking.
‘’Look, I need to tell you something.’’ he said it with the most serious tone she’d ever heard him use, and that put her on edge immediately.
‘’Jeremy joined the musical so he could ask you out, but we think he’s starting to doubt himself again, so as his friends we’re stepping in. We see the way you are together, and you’re good for each other. I mean, you like him, don’t you?’’ Jake looks at hr like he already knows the answer, as if she herself has admitted to him she’s completely gone for Jeremy Heere. She doesn’t answer him, only stares in stunned silence, feeling a stab of something run trough her stomach.
‘’Next week, Pinkberry? You guys could get lunch and just, i dunno, talk about stuff?’’ he looks like he’s not 100% sure where he’s going with this, which leaves Christine even more lost. Had Jake just asked her out, on behalf of Jeremy. All the new information turns over in her head slowly, before she nods at him, Her eyes tighten just a bit, her smile is forced for once. But he doesn’t know her well enough to spot it. If Jeremy was here he’d recognize the smile, the facial expression, but he’s not, so Jake is left to give her a relieved smile before he nods and heads off. HE’s immediately intercepted by Jenna.
‘’I can’t believe you just did that!’’ she almost shouts at him.
‘’Hey! It worked, didn’t it?’’ he says defensively.
‘’Wait, it did?’’ Jenna asks, her face morphing from rage to confusion in the blink of an eye.
‘’Totally!’’ Jake answers cheerfully, smiling from ear to ear.
‘’What worked, exactly?’’ Jenna asks, reproachful.
Chatroom: now kiss
GosspiGirl: JAKE WTF
MythicBinch: o shit rolan pulled out the caps, how much did he fuck up?
AmericanDragon: HEY
AmericanDragon: i thought i did good!
AmericanDragon: i got her to agree to go on a date with jerms next week!
BeanieBabe: !!!!!!!!!!!
MythicBinch: o dhit
Player1: YOU DID WHAT
MythicBinch: *shit
‘’I don’t care if it’s awkward for you to tell him! You did this! This situation is aallll cause a you, my dude. You get to figure it out yourself.’’ Michael whispers furiously at Jake during their first class together that Monday. Jake looks like he’d rather sink trough the floor than talk to Jeremy. He’s such a pathetic sight Michael almost takes pity on him. Almost. He waits for the teacher to turn back to the board.
‘’Look, Christine has one less class than us on Mondays, just tell her to wait for Jeremy at Pinkberrys and then we send him over there at the end of the day.’’ he sighs, and when he glances over at Jake. The dude’s gone fucking starry eyed on him. Great. He reaches across the small space between their desks and shoves at Jakes face, who only laughs. The teacher sends them a stern glance and Michael quickly retracts his hand, smiling sheepishly, before glaring at Jake. Jake does not look sorry in the slightest. He looks like Michael just saved his entire day. Michael just sighs.
Jeremy shares his first class with Brooke and Christine, and usually they sit two next to each other, and then one in front or behind one of them. It’s easier to talk to each other like that, creating a small triangle instead of a line. Christine is the last of the trio to arrive that day, and she sits down next to Brooke, effectively putting Brooke between her and Jeremy. His stomach immediately drops. He must have done something wrong, or something to offend her. He thinks frantically trough everything he’s said to her over the weekend to see if he can find something that might make her mad at him, and while nothing jumps out at him at first, enough overthinking can make anything into the reason she’s not speaking to him. And it does. Suddenly he can’t help but feel that she’s only tolerated him this past month. Surely she’s just been putting up with him. She’s probably closer to the other girls in the group now, but he’s in the friend group so she can’t just stop talking to him. Hell maybe she regretted ever taking him up on the milkshake offer. She probably does. She’s probably really fed up with him by now. All his stammering and the way he awkwardly hugs her and how his face is probably red about 60% of the time they talk and his cold clammy hands and-
The bell rings. Jeremy can’t remember having heard anything the teacher’s said all class. He’s been staring at the blank page of his notebook. When he glances up it’s just in time to see Christine walk out. She hadn’t said a word to him. Brooke looks like she’s unaware of the inner turmoil Jeremy is facing, which is fine. He’d rather not tell her anyway. He doesn’t really wanna start anything within the group anyway. They’d probably go for Christine over him. Who wouldn’t? She’s so happy and perfect and she doesn’t blow off plans last minute because her stupid brain decides that it’s time to freak out. He smiles at Brooke, who smiles back, before heading to his next class.
It doesn’t get any less awkward at lunch. Oh sure Christine is sitting next to him this time, but he’s acutely aware of how she avoids touching him. Even with her flailing gesturing as she speaks, she never once brushes against him like usual. Doesn’t nudge him in a friendly way. Doesn’t hold his arm like she sometimes does. Like he’s come to find comforting over the time he’s gotten to know her. He feels adrift, like he’s looking at her from the outside. Looking at the conversation going on around him from the outside. Michael is a solid weight against his arm, a solid being in a world that’s suddenly full of smoke and mirrors. It anchors him, but he can’t look at Michael. If he looks at Michael he’ll know something’s up, and if he knows then he’ll ask, and if he asks Jeremy will answer. Because that’s how they work. But if he tells Michael that Christine doesn’t actually want to hang around him anymore he’ll create a divide in the friend group. Michael will go with him because he’s a stupidly marvelously good best friend. But the others will surely go with Christine. He’s pretty sure he’d chose Christine over himself too. This ends up cutting Michael off from all of his other friends, friends he connected with without any help from Jeremy. He feels nauseous. The food in front of him doesn’t look appealing anymore.
He’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t notice Christine excusing herself, and leaving lunch early. She doesn’t say bye to him, so he can only watch her go, his mind a million miles away.
‘’Is she mad at me?’’
Which is probably why he only realizes he’s said something when the others have stopped talking and are now staring at him. He faces them, eyes wide and face beginning to redden.
‘’What?’’ Jake asks.
‘’S-she’s, Christine, has been…uh, a-avoiding me? All morning? I think.’’ he stammers out, voice small and unsure. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. He glances over at Michael and yup, that’s worry. That is Michaels worried face. Great. Fucking fantastic. If only the void would take him now. He misses the looks the group exchanges, and misses the glares sent Jakes way, misses Chloe as she mouthes ‘Fix. It’ at Jake. What he doesn’t miss is Rich getting up and sitting down in the vacant seat Christine left. He puts an arm around Jeremy, and while it doesn’t calm him down it does make him feel a bit better. Rich is a good person.
‘’Maybe she just needs some time to figure things out. It’s very easy to withdraw from someone once you realize something in your relationship has changed, but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing! She’ll talk about it when she’s ready. I mean it’s Christine, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a bad bone in her body!’’ Brooke says, breaking the silence. Jeremy looks at her, feels the prickling behind his eyes and his face heating up even more. He keeps the tears back, but can’t stop his eyes from watering a little. He gives Brooke a shaky smile.
‘’Thanks Brookie.’’ she only smiles, big and happy and endlessly confident that this will all blow over soon, and they’ll be back to normal and happier for it. Jeremy wishes he could believe in that smile fully, but he’ll take the temporary comfort.
To Chrissy:
u willing to meet w Jerms at Pibkberry today
To Jake:
yeah okay, i’ll be waiting
To Chrissy:
r u mad?
To Jake:
I don’t know
Jake stares, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. He feels like he’s sending Jeremy into the lions den when he approaches him at the end of the day.
‘’Jeremy!’’ he calls. Jeremy turns around and gives him a lopsided smile. Jake can’t help but think he looks small right then and there, even though he’s the second tallest person in their group. Well technically third, Jake and Michael are about the same height, but Jeremy isn’t that far behind. Jeremy stops to let Jake catch up to him.
‘’What’s up Jake?’’ Jeremys shoulders are lowered, his posture easy. He’s so clearly comfortable just talking to Jake right now and Jake hates that he knows exactly what’s gonna happen when he says the lines he’s been rehearsing in his head for the past hour or so.
‘’Chrissy said she’d meet you at Pinkberry after school today. I think she wants to talk?’’ as he expected Jeremys shoulders twitch, wanting to hunch up. His face becomes drawn, the smile a bit strained. Jake can see the worry seeping into his eyes.
‘’Okay. Great. Cool. I’ll see you later.’’ he says, and leaves. Jake watches him go, feeling helplessly lost in the sea of students around him.
Chatroom: now kiss
Player1: jerms just texted me saying he’s heading to pinkberry and that i should just go home
AmericanDragon: i have made a Mistake
RichBich: jake wtf
AmericanDragon: chrissy is acting so strange and i asked if she was mad n she just said idk????
AmericanDragon: n now jerms is headed to talk to her and im freakin out haha
GossipGirl: That’s it we’re going to Pinkberrys. Jerms is walking there so if we drive we can sneak in and sit, find Chrissy, find a good spot close where we can eavesdrop, and then possibly also step in if shit hits the fan. We owe Jerms that much.
BeanieBabe: yes!!! good plan!!!
MythicBinch: they might see us
GossipGirl: Leave that to me!
They take the other way around the school to drive to the mall, just in case Jeremy spots their cars. Or well, in case he spots Michaels car. It’s a very recognizable car what with all the bumper stickers and the fuzzy pacman hanging from his rearview mirror. It had been a gift from Jeremy, just a placeholder until Jeremy had been old enough to get his tattoo, so that they could finally match. The drive feels longer than it is, and Michael is sure it has something to do with the quiet in his car, he doesn’t really feel like putting on any music. They park their cars and meet up at the entrance. Everyone looks to Jenna.
‘’Michael you gotta take off your hoodie, it’s way too recognizable. Jake you take off your football jacket and give it to Rich.’’ they do as instructed as Jenna hands Chloe a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to Brooke. Jenna puts a baseball cap on and tucks her hair in.
‘’Clothes you wear regularly and hair are some of the most recognizable traits, this way if they glance in our direction it’ll be easier to go unrecognized.’’ she explains.
‘’You should work for the CIA or something in the future’’ Michael says. Jenna winks at him.
‘’Who says I’m not already’’ she smirks before leading the party into the mall.
There are two entrances to the pinkberry, since it’s sort of in the middle strip of stores, meaning you can walk straight trough it to the other side. They aim for the entrance that’s technically in the back, and get lucky. Christine is sitting in a booth with her back to them, meaning they can sneak into the next booth over and settle in without being noticed. Now all that’s left is for Jeremy to arrive and hopefully not spot them.
Jeremy makes his way to the mall slowly. It’s not that far away from the school to be honest, but he doesn’t wanna be drenched in sweat when he arrives. Also he might be a little scared. Who is he kidding he’s very scared, very worried, and he’s already sweating a lot. What a good Monday this is shaping up to be. Despite his slow pace he makes it to the mall relatively quickly. He makes his way to Pinkberry in a daze, and once he gets there his eyes zeroes in on Christine immediately. She’s looking at her phone. As he approaches he feels like he’s approaching his own death sentence. He stops in front of the booth and tries to swallow the lump in his throat.
‘’H-hey.’’ he says lamely, and Christine finally looks up. She doesn’t smile and Jeremy feels like he might already be dead. She nods to the seat across from her and he slides in. He doesn’t say anything, waits for her to start. On the other side of the divider behind Christine everyone holds their breath.
‘’Jake told me the truth.’’ Christine starts, and it throws Jeremy for a loop. He ends up staring at her and very intelligently stammer out,
‘’W-what?’’ in a meek voice. Christine huffs, her face pinching and he’s never seen her like this. Angry. And hurt. He doesn’t know what he did but he knows he’ll do anything in his power to undo it, just to get her to stop looking like that.
‘’You never wanted to be in the musical.’’ she accuses him, and it’s like a knife to the gut. Oh. She knows. She knows the truth that’s actually a lie and thinks the actual truth is an actual lie. Fuck.
‘’Chris-‘’ he tries to start, but she cuts him off,
‘’No. I can’t believe I actually believed you. And you were so nice and I thought I found someone who loved theatre as much as I did, was that all fake too?’’ she glares at him, and he feels so very small. He feels like he’s being pulled under, like he can’t breathe, and he wants to cry but he can’t cry now, how pathetic would that be?
‘’This isn’t the first time this has happened, and I’m so sick of it. I thought you were different.’’
Every word is like a blow, his chest keeps tightening and he feels guilty for something that isn’t even true, but he is a liar and a terrible person even though it’s not in the way she thinks.
‘’I thought you were better.’’ she says finally, and she sounds tired. She sounds tired and broken and Jeremy recognizes himself in that tone of voice. That might be what finally snaps him out of the downward spiral into the cold murky waters of despair, because when she gets up to leave his hand shoots out to stop her, catching her wrist. He can’t meet her eyes for a second, can’t find his voice, and the air between them is tense as he tries to get his scrambled brain to form a coherent sentence. She doesn’t pull her arm away.
Rich had been seconds away from getting out of his seat to stop Christine, but Jeremy actually beats him to it. The tension between the two seep into the air between the other six, and it feels like the tiniest movement could shatter the world. Jeremy breaks the silence after a small eternity, his hand clammy around Christines wrist. He looks up at her finally,
‘’Will you let me explain?’’ he asks, surprising himself. In the small eternity between grabbing onto her and opening his mouth he’s decided to tel her everything. Tell her the truth, the real truth. She’d understand, wouldn’t she? Or maybe she’d hate him, and then go tell his friends and then they’d hate him too and then the seven of them would leave him behind and they’d all be better off without hi-
His chain of thought is broken by Christine sitting back down and crossing her arms. He stares at her for moment before snatching his hand back and staring into the tabletop.
‘’Alright. Explain.’’ Christine says neutrally. He can tell she’s a bit annoyed, but she stayed. That has to mean something. He takes a deep breath and prepares to put words to thoughts he’s never let leave his head.
‘’It’s true that I lied, but I didn’t lie to you.’’ he glances at her, she uncrosses her arms, eyebrows raising, he looks back down.
‘’I lied to everyone else.’’ he admits. It’s freeing and terrible at the same time, like releasing a burden only to replace it with a heavier one.
‘’I told them I had a crush on you as an excuse to join the musical, because I didn’t want to tell them that I like theatre.’’ he almost whispers, but it’s still loud enough for the others to hear. Their faces all share the same shocked expression, and they feel… lost for words. Not that they’d say anything but, it’s like everything grinds to a halt all at once.
‘’That doesn’t make any sense.’’ Christine says, but there’s no accusation in her tone, only confusion. Uncertainty.
‘’I know!’’ Jeremy almost shouts, such a contrast to his last statement. He pushes his hair away from his face and oh yup that’s definitely tears sliding down his face. He avoids meeting her eyes as he raises his head, scrubbing an arm across his face. Trying ton hold back the tears.
‘’I know it doesn’t make sense. It was never supposed to be a secret but I just never told them and then I kept not telling them and then suddenly it was this huge secret. And it felt like I’d lied to them for so long and I don’t even know why and for some reason I thought they’d be mad at me? And it sounds so stupid when I’m saying it out loud because they’re good people, they’re the b-best people, and I thought something so bad about them but I just-‘’ he cuts himself off, taking a deep and shaky breath. No more tears leak out, and he’s grateful for that small mercy. He can’t bring himself to look at Christine yet.
‘’When I heard which musical we were putting on I decided I had to try to be in it, it’s my favorite musical of all time and I’ve always wanted to see if I was good enough to play JD. So I needed a good enough excuse to sign up for auditions, and then there you were.’’ now he does look at her. Her eyes are open, staring at him, her arms resting on the table. He smiles at her, shaky, and there must be something in his expression because she breathes in shakily.
‘’I’ve admired you since freshman year, when I saw you in Romeo and Juliet. Because after that I kept noticing you, and you were so…so unapologetically enthusiastic about what you loved, and at first I was so jealous of you, and then I started wishing we could be friends. But I’m terrible at making friends!’’ he laughs brokenly at that.
‘’I’m only in the friend group I’m in because of Michael, and on some level I’m always terrified they’ll realize I’m not worth hanging around.’’ at the other table Brooke looks like she’s about to cry, and the others can’t help but internally agree.
‘’It’s all in my head too, I know they’re not that mean, but I can’t help it sometimes. But yeah…I figured I could tell them I liked you, try out for the play, connect with you and maybe even be acquaintances? So honestly the fact that you’re in the group now is better than I’d ever imagined.’’ his face is red, both from the almost crying and the embarrassment, but he’s smiling slightly. Christine is speechless, hanging onto every word.
‘’I figured I’d tell them it didn’t work out with you, and leave it at that. But then I actually got the part and I somehow convinced myself that if I did a good enough job, if they saw me be an amazing JD, I could tell them that this is what I wanna do with my life.’’ he admits. And then he finally looks at her, he can’t really read her expression.
‘’I’m sorry I got you caught up in my lies, I didn’t mean to hurt you and I know I did anyway, and I hope you can forgive me for being a hurtful idiot.’’ he finishes. He feels wrung out, both emotionally and physically. There’s an ache in his chest, like a festering wound. It’s soon forgotten when he see the small sympathetic smile blossoming on her face. Her eyes shine as she says,
‘’Of course I forgive you.’’
The smile that stretches across his face is probably the biggest one that’s graced his face the entire day.
‘’I do have a demand though. You have to tell them after opening night. And I mean everything. They’re you’re friends, they care about you, they’d never hate you for something you love.’’ she says.
‘’Yeah, you’re right. I mean I already feel better having told you. And deep down I know they won’t be mad but it’s just…difficult to start a conversation like that sometimes.’’
‘’I can be there as moral support, if you want?’’
‘’Would you?’’ he looks so hopeful it almost breaks her heart.
‘’Of course!’’ she reaches out and grabs both his hands, beaming at him.
‘’Why Heathers though?’’ she asks him once they sit back down. After all that emotion they decided to actually get some frozen yoghurt. Jeremy has mint chocolate chip, and Christine has strawberry with mini marshmallows. The others are still there, Brooke having snuck off to grab her own frozen yogurt (peach flavor), and brings back blueberry for Jenna, vanilla for Chloe, and mint chocolate chip fro Michael. They all make faces as he digs in.
‘’I guess I’ve always seen some similarities between me and JD, not in a I’m-gonna-snap-and-blow-the-school-up way, but in the way he closes himself off from the world, how he’s hurting. Oh, and the songs are amazing, of course. Freeze your brain is my favorite cus we see the vulnerable side of JD. And it’s about slushies, so it reminds me of Michael. Even though it’s a sad song it cheers me up because of that.’’
At the other table all eyes shoot to Michael, who’s blushing.
‘’Speaking of Michael…’’Christen opens, and congratulates herself on the smooth change of topic.
‘’The others, I kinda get why you didn’t talk to them, but why not Michael? He’s your best friend, right?’’ Christine asks, fishing around for the last mini marshmallows in her cup. Jeremy blushes again.
‘’Oh well…I think it’s because he is my best friend. It feels even worse keeping secrets from him than the others.’’ Christine immediately latches onto the plural s.
‘’Secrets? As in, more than one?’’ she asks, leaning across the table just a little. The others pick it up too, and sharpen their ears. Apparently today is a day for learning your long time friends deepest darkest secrets. Jeremy is quickly going even redder.
‘’Okay! Okay! Yes, more secrets. There’s only two though, and you already know the first one.’’ he pleads.
‘’Is it bigger or smaller than the you being a musical nerd one?’’ he snorts at that, but quickly becomes serious as he considers it.
‘’Probably bigger.’’ he admits, knowing full well she’ll demand to him to tell her.
‘’I demand that you tell me.’’ she says with mock seriousness in her voice. And yes there’s a hint of deep curiosity there, but the good thing about Christine is that he knows he can just say no. Just tell her he doesn’t wanna share it and she’ll be fine with it. But it felt so good sharing the other, maybe it’ll be easier if he tells her this one too? The other table is quiet, full of tension as they desperately hope Jeremy will share this second secret with Christine and, unknowingly, with them.
‘’I’m in love with Michael.’’
Michael remembers the first time he saw Jeremy. Really saw him.
The moving truck had parked outside the house down the street late December. Pretty close to christmas, and Michael had wondered who could be bothered to move this close to Christmas. He’d glimpse the new people every now and then, two adults and a small figure in a bright blue coat.
His Ina had said they were a couple with a son about his age, and that he’d probably be starting in Michaels class in January. Nanay had told him to be nice to the new boy once school started, since it was always difficult to start in the middle of the school year.
‘’But why can’t we go over and say hi, we could be friends and then he’d have someone to hang out with when school starts!’’ Ina had smiled.
‘’You’re so kind, anak, I’m proud of you. But they’ve asked for some time to settle, so for now we give them their space.’’ he had nodded in understanding, even though he didn’t really.
This had lead to the first time he actually saw Jeremy being the first day back to second grade that January. He remembers the skinny kid with the floppy brown hair, hands twisting in his soft blue cardigan, a missing front tooth, big blue eyes. He’d stuttered out his own name, face a little rosy, and the teacher had seated him next to Michael. You’d think such an epic friendship would have had a grander beginning. Michael defending Jeremy as someone made fun of his stutter, Jeremy befriending the friendless Michael. But no, it starts with Jeremy sitting down next to Michael nervously glancing over at him, and Michael answering him with a blinding smile.
Jeremy is the first person Michael calls when he gets the new gaming system.
Michael is the first person Jeremy calls when he gets a pet rabbit.
Jeremy is the first person Michael calls when there’s a new movie he wants to see.
Michael is the first person Jeremy calls when he was getting braces.
Jeremy is the first person Michael calls when his grandma dies.
Michael is the first person Jeremy calls when anything happens.
Jeremy is the first person Michael calls when everything happens.
Michael is the first person Jeremy calls when his mom leaves.
They’ve been friends for four years, but it feels like forever. You can always find one with the other. They lean on each other and find strength in each other. They also keep each other on the right track. When she leaves Jeremy is inconsolable at first. He doesn’t understand.
‘’Did I do something?’’ he asks his dad, he gets a shaky smile and a shake of the head. And then his dad is gone again. Not like his mom is gone, but he’s just not there.
He spends a lot of time at Michaels place that year, goes there after school, hangs out during the weekends. Talks to his moms. Talks to his moms a lot actually. He latches onto them like he’s dying, and they notice. It leads to them sitting him down one evening, along with Michael, and having a lengthy discussion about how Jeremy’s feeling. Apparently nobody had really thought to ask him. Except Michael, of course, but Michael only has child like reassurances. And no means to better the situation on his own. He’s glad when his moms step in, because he was starting to feel like Jeremy might be slipping away. The talks become regular, and Reyna and Ami start visiting the Heere household to talk to Jeremys dad as well. He’s slowly getting better, and keeps thanking them for looking after Jeremy while he was being an idiot. His own words. But there’s something missing from the equation. The Heere boys keep saying she left because she was tired of dealing with something. It switches from money problems, to being a mother, to being a wife, to health issues, to some indistinct worry about the future. But it’s all strangely centered around Jeremy. They just don’t know why, until the end of that summer.
They’re looking trough the Mell family photo albums when they come across Michaels baby pictures. Michael, predictably, tries to snatch the album away. Reyna stops him however.
‘’I was in labour for seven hours, I deserve to gush about these photos.’’ she argues, and shows Jeremy the pictures of a very small Michael. He’s screaming, small face scrunched up and hilarious looking. Jeremy tries not to laugh, but a snort escapes anyway. Michael tries to tackle him, but Ami stops him.
‘’Now be nice anak.’’ she says, voice soft and full of fondness. Jeremy glances at her, then back to the picture again.
‘’If you gave birth to Michael, does that mean he has a dad somewhere?’’ he asks, quite innocently. Reyna and Ami share a look over the boys’ heads, and Ami gestures that she’ll handle it.
‘’You see Jeremy, Michael is our biological son. I’m what you call Trans, which means-‘’ she’s cut off as Jeremy gasps loudly, and it’s surprising enough that she just stops talking. All three Mells are looking at him in confusion, but he doesn’t notice, just stares at Ami with big eyes.
‘’You are? You’re married! And you have a family! And you’re happy!’’Jeremy exclaims.
‘’Uuuuuuuh…yes?’’ is the answer Ami gives him, and then he’s laughing. Laughing like he’s relieved. And then he’s crying, and Ami understands. She gets up and gathers Jeremy into her arms, and he clings onto her, buries his face in her shirt without a trace of embarrassment. He knows he’s safe here, so it’s okay. He cries himself out as Ami rocks him gently, petting his hair and shushing him. Michel gets up and settles in next to them, waiting for his turn to hug his best friend.
‘’Are you-‘’ she’s cut off by the frantic nodding of Jeremys head, and she sighs. Not long after Jermey releases his grip, and then he’s got his arms full of a different Mell instead. Michael clutches him tight, trying to squeeze every bit of love and understanding into Jeremy.
‘’I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s part of why we moved here in the first place. Fresh start.’’ Jeremy mutters into Michaels shoulder. Michael only shakes his head.
‘’It’s okay.’’ he says, and Jeremy would cry again if his head didn’t already hurt so much.
Nothing changes between them. Except now Michael knows why Jeremy changes in the bathroom instead of the locker rooms. Jeremy had always said he was uncomfortable in the locker rooms, and Michael figures that’s still true anyway. His Ina also tells Jeremys dad about puberty blockers, and tells him everything he can do for his son. She becomes an invaluable resource for Mr. Heere, and someone he can come to with questions he can’t ask his son. Everything seems to be on track to become better, maybe not just like it was before, but who says that’s not a good thing? That is, until Ami overhears Jeremy tell Michael something. She knows she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but she can’t help it.
‘’I think my mom left cus she couldn’t deal with me. I heard her shouting at dad a week before she left, about how she wouldn’t be able to handle what I’m putting her trough.’’
It breaks her heart, so she steps in like the nosy woman she is. She knocks gently on the door, and the boys go quiet immediately. She cracks the door open, leans into the room.
‘’I’m sorry for listening in, but can I speak with you for a moment Jeremy?’’
Said boy glances at Michael before carefully nodding his head. She steps in fully and joins the two boys on the floor in front of the small tv the gaming system is hooked up to.
‘’As a child, it isn’t your responsibility to make sure you’re someone your parents can… deal with…or whatever. Your only job is to be you, and their jobs as parents are to accept you and love you, teach you and guide you, be there for you. It isn’t your fault your mom left, and I’m sure your dad would say the same.’’ Ami says in a confident voice. And he does. Not as eloquently, but twice as reassuring. Ten times as loving. A hundred times as accepting.
‘’Your mom didn’t leave because you couldn’t be a good child, she left because she couldn’t be good mother. It just wasn’t who she was supposed to be, and she hurt us in the process, so it’s okay to be mad at her, but in the end we just have to let her go, and move on. We can make it together, Heere men have always been resilient.’’ he says, and smiles, and Jeremy believes him.
They stick together trough thick and thin, Michael and Jeremy, Jeremy and Michael.
Player 1 and Player 2
The two of them against the world (against middle school).
Michael doesn’t notice at first. How could he? Jeremy is Jeremy, and Jeremy is his best friend. They play video games together, lounging across each other, sitting in each others laps, falling asleep holding each other, waking up still holding each other. Jeremy likes to cuddle, Jeremy likes hugs, Jeremy likes soft and warm things and Michael is soft and warm personified. Jeremy calms him down after panic attacks, Jeremy tells him he’s the best when his brain says he’s the worst, Jeremy says he’s his favorite person, Jeremy stops stuttering around him, Jeremy grows his hair out a bit, Jeremy calls his moms Ina and Nanay, Jeremy grows up.
Jeremy is cute.
The realization that he’s gay isn’t really a surprise. Well, he’s surprised he didn’t realize sooner. He tells his moms with little fanfare, and Jeremy with even less (who in turn admits he’s probably bi). Life goes on. Until his 14th birthday party. Jeremy is there. Of course he’s there, if you asked him he’d say he wouldn’t miss it for the world, and he’d mean it. They’re out in the garden, having a barbecue. Rich, a kid they met first year in middle school, is there as well. He likes video games and has a lisp, and Michael think’s he’s cool. He’s probably the fastest kid in their class. He’d sat next to Michael in math and then they’d been friends, and then Jeremy had slowly warmed up to him, and they’d bonded over their speech impediments. Michael feels like it should be a big deal figuring out you’re in love with your best friend, but it isn’t. It’s looking up into the tree that’s been in your back yard since forever, laughing and worrying at the same time that Jeremy is gonna fall and break something, and thinking you could spend the rest of your life like that. Laughing and worrying and loving this idiot. He starts high school knowing he likes Jeremy, he finishes freshman year knowing he loves him. He tells Rich, because he’s Michaels closest friend after Jeremy. And now he has to make that distinction because suddenly they have even more friends.
He makes it to junior year with his unrequited feelings. He’s also discovered that getting high chills him out, and helps when he’s feeling strung out and worn down. That’s also how the rest of the gang, excluding Jeremy, gets wind of his crush during sophomore year. It’s an old group chat they used to discuss what to get Jeremy for his birthday back in October, but the first word is ‘Jerms’ in the title and then he’s going for it.
Chatroom: jerms gon party
Player1: i’m so gay for jeremy
And that was that.
They promise not to tell Jeremy, like the good friends they are, but they all agree it’s hard to tell if Jeremy likes him back, beaches they’ve just always been that close. Sometimes Michael hates how close they are, and then he changes his mind about five seconds later. That also means that when Jeremy says he’s crushing on Christine, the others immediately pounce on him, making sure he’s okay. And what can he tell them? That he’s heartbroken? That he kinda wishes Christine would go away? That he kinda wants to sabotage Jeremy, just so he will keep being single, so Michael doesn’t have to deal with this? No. He doesn’t say all that, even though somewhere in the back of his mind he wishes he did. He wishes he had told them and they’d help him get Christine far away from Jeremy. But he doesn’t. He’s a good friend. He’s Jeremys best friend. He wants him to be happy. And if Christine is what will make Jeremy happy, he’s not gonna stand in the way of that. So he tells them that they’re gonna help Jeremy get Christine, because that’s what friends do, and he ignores the ache in his chest and the way he feels his heart break over and over again. He smiles and makes sure Jeremy is okay, and he’s glad he’s been dealing with these feelings for so long, because Jeremy doesn’t notice even now. Maybe Michael wishes he would.
Michael is pretty sure his head is gonna explode. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. The others are looking at him as if they absolutely agree.
What the fuck.
In the next booth over the conversation continues, as if Michaels entire world hadn’t just fallen apart only to be rebuilt again.
‘’Really?’’ Christine exclaims with glee, Jeremy is still bright red, but he’s smiling and nodding shyly. He looks…happy. He looks like he’s in love. Michael has never seen him like that before, but he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s like magic. Like a moth to a flame, and Jeremy is burning brighter than ever, and Michael is only one small moth feeling like he’s chasing the moon.
‘’Yeah, I think I started crushing on him when I was like 12 or something. It’s really stupid. I don’t even know if he thinks of me like that, if I’m even an option. But it’s fine, he keeps me grounded just by being next to me.’’ he looks off into the distance, all dreamy, and okay yeah Christine realizes he could never have been in love with her. This is Jeremy Heere in love, and she’s never seen him like this. Wistful, longing, and so at peace with it, more content to simply exist in the world than she’s ever seen him.
‘’Don’t you wanna tell him that?’’ she asks, and Michael could kiss Christine, he really could right then and there. Jeremy is silent, his face falling a little, like his awareness of the world around him is seeping back in, brining back his anxious demeanor. Michael wishes he could hold onto the place Jeremy and been in, bottle it up and give it to him so he could stay there forever. Just being happy.
‘’I don’t know.’’ oh god please hit this boy over the head with something so he can get it trough his thick skull that Michael is head over heels in love with him so he should really say something oh god please just say something.
‘’What if you tell him on opening night, after you tell everyone about you being a huge nerd?’’ Christine suggests. Michael is gonna shower her in gifts he’s so fucking thankful for her right now. Jeremy snorts.
‘’’Are you ever gonna stop calling me a nerd?’’ he asks jokingly. She gleefully shakes her head no, and he sighs, then his face turns serious again.
‘’Is it a good idea to tell him that right after admitting I’ve been lying to everyone for years because of my own dumb insecurities?’’ his worries are closing in on him, trapping him in a corner.
‘’First off, they’re not dumb. They might be irrational, but that doesn’t make them any less real. Second, isn’t it good to just get it all out, over and done with?’’ Christine tries to reason with his anxieties, and she sees some of the worry clear away. She’s getting trough.
‘’Maybe…yeah okay.’’ he’s smiling slightly, light filling his eyes.
‘’Okay?’’ she asks, urges him on, smile splitting her face.
‘’Okay!’’ he exclaims, laughing, smiling bigger, drunk on love and foolish bravery. She looks at him expectantly, and he only sends her a questioning look back. She groans, but her eyes are still smiling so he knows she’s not actually that exasperated with him yet.
‘’How? How are you gonna do it? I know you, Jeremy Heere, and you need a plan. You need a goal to work towards. So what’s your plan?’’ she puts her arms on the table, leans against them and gets up close and personal with his face. He swallows, his hands shaking just a little.
‘’Uhh, okay. So I meet everyone after opening night, hopefully they’re all amazed at our performance, I tell them I’m a theatre nerd and that my big dream is to go to Broadway-‘’ Christine cuts him off with a squeal of joy, but quickly makes hand motions for him to continue, and the others can’t help but share that sentiment. This is a new side of Jeremy, and they kinda really like it, this new found budding confidence Christine and the musical has inspired in him. Jeremy gives her a crooked smile before continuing,
‘’Then I’ll ask if Michael can drop me off at home, or I’ll probably ask him beforehand, or he’ll offer. He’ll probably offer actually, he’s a good friend like that. Anyway so I’ll wait until he’s dropping me off at home, and then I’ll tell him, and then when it gets really awkward I can just go home and hide in my room forever.’’ Jeremy finishes on an almost false note of cheer. Christine sighs, but smiles tiredly at him.
‘’It was good all the way up to the end. Promise me you’ll hear him out before you run off?’’ she asks.
‘’I promise.’’ Jeremy says.
The six of them watch as Jeremy and Christine leave, and breathe a sigh of relief at having gone unnoticed during the entire ordeal.
‘’How’d you feel dude?’’ Rich asks Michael, and honestly he doesn’t really know how to answer.
‘’I am dead and dying.’’ he offers, and he feels like that should explain everything.
‘’I’m impressed, those states are usually mutually exclusive.’’ Jenna says sarcastically. Michael covers his face with his hands, pushing his glasses up, and leans his head back until it connects with the top of the bech behind him.
‘’Time is an illusion.’’ he mutters trough his hands before dragging them down his face, then reaching up and settling his glasses back into their rightful place.
‘’No but for real I think I’m about to either explode from glee or frustration. Maybe both. He’s closer than ever and I can’t even take the final step towards him, even though it would be so easy.’’ he tries to explain, it must not get across well enough, because the others look mostly confused.
‘’Why can’t you take the final step?’’ Brooke asks.
‘’He’s got a plan. Christine said it, Jeremy needs a set goal and he needs to accomplish it on his own terms. If I went up and told him I liked him I’d throw him off kilter, I might even destroy his concentration and confidence for the play, and he needs that. All I have to do is wait, not do anything out of the ordinary, and wait.’’ he’s looking at his own hands, curled into fists on the table. His emotions are waging a war against each other, but the pure happiness wins over everything else, he remembers the look Jeremy had had when he’d thought about him, thought about Michael, thought about being in love with Michael. He feels something similar creep onto his own fave, feels the red rise in his cheeks, feels the goofy smile, he wouldn’t be surprised if hearts were visible in his eyes right then. He starts giggling, then laughing, from the unabashed joy in his chest. Swelling and swelling and swelling ever outwards, filling his chest and there’s not a single trace of the ache he’s been feeling for years. The others only stare at him, a certain kind of relief in their hearts. It’s just such a good thing to see your friends find happiness they never thought they’d have.
School the next day is instantly so much better. Christine acts like she always has with him again, which is a relief. Their other friends ask if they can sit in on one of their rehearsals, and while yeah that would be great, Jeremy and Christine explain that it’s mostly learning the songs and their lines and their cues as of now, but when they starts rehearsing more coherent parts, like the choreography and stuff like that, they’ can definitely sit in. Which does Jeremys heart some good, because it gives him time to psyche himself up. The best thing however, had to be Michael. To Jeremy, Michael is probably the best part of his day, but he’s just…lighter. Brighter. He seems happier, and Jeremy doesn’t understand why in the slightest, but when Michael smiles at him he sees all that happiness radiating off of him and it makes his insides all warm and tingly. Michael doesn’t smile like that at anyone else either, the extra happiness is noticeable in practically every way if you know how to look, but Jeremy sees it the best when it’s directed at him. That has to be a good sign, right? Something in his head tries to tell him there’s something going on, something sinister even, but Jeremy refuses to listen. He flat out refuses. His favorite person in the whole world is happier than Jeremy has seen in in what feels like forever, and he’s not about to let his own stupid head but a dark spin on that. Michael in turn sees the happiness he knows he’s radiating being reflected right back to him by Jeremy. He didn’t know he could make Jeremy so happy just by being happy himself. He feels like they’re mirrors or something, endlessly reflecting this happiness back and forth, brighter and brighter. So maybe he lets the hugs linger a little longer than their already long hugging time, so maybe he’s finding even more excuses to touch Jeremy casually just to feel his warmth, jus to feel his heart beating steady in his chest so he can relish in knowing it belongs to him, so maybe he tries to tell Jeremy he loves him in every way without being too obvious, in hopes that Jeremy will realize soon. Maybe he does all this despite promising himself nothing would change. Maybe he doesn’t care.
Christine corners Jake at the end of the day. For someone of her size, she sure can be intimidating when she wants to. He’s suddenly glad she is the person that she is, that sh has the heart she has, that they’re friends now instead of something else.
‘’I know you tried to do the right thing, but you shouldn’t meddle in other peoples lives like that. You have to give them time and space to figure things out on their own, and maybe a nudge here and there yes I’ll admit. Just thing things trough a bit more next time, okay?’’ she asks. Gosh she’s so nice. Like an angel. He only nods.
‘’And you guys better be the loudest ones clapping at the end of that Musical.’’ she say in a cheerful voice, with an underlying tone of threat that does not go unnoticed. He swallows, gives his best smile, and watches her walk away.
AmericanDragon changed group name from ‘now kiss’ to ‘Official Canigula Heere Fanclub’
AmericanDragon: i just got threatened by chrissy
AmericanDragon: 0/10 would not recommend
AmericanDragon: she did tell me we needed to be the loudest ppl clapping at opening night so we are now their official fan club
AmericanDragon: our first order of business is to make matching t-shirts
AmericanDragon: I also nominate brooke for cheer captain
AmericanDragon: michael ur in charge of the signs
AmericanDragon: rich ur gonna be out hype man
AmericanDragon: i’m gonna make an official twitter for us, and jenna ur in charge of it
AmericanDragon: it’s evryones duty to like and retweet everything to their personals
AmericanDragon: chloe idk what you should be in charge of but you need to be in charge of something cus you’re good at that
AmericanDragon: taht’s all
AmericanDragon *that’s
Player1: jake wtf
GossipGirl: No I like it. Let’s do this. We owe Jeremy that much, right?
RichBich: yea i mean he rly did not want to tell us he was into musicals n shit
Player1: that’s not our fault tho. u know how jeremy is, sometimes he gets too caught up in his own head and then his idiot brain makes up stuff that isn’t true because he’s so anxious
Player1: this isn’t about him not trusting us, or us not being supportive enough
Player1: this isn’t about what we did or didn’t do before
Player1: this is about how we support him going forward
Player1: make sure he knows he can tell us these things, that we won’t judge him or hate him
Player1: i changed my mind this fan club is the best idea fucking ever let’s go
BeanieBabe: yaaaaayyyyyyy!!!!!
MythicBinch: also i’m obviously in charge. period. i am now the leader of this fan club. go spread the word my pretties.
Player1: hear that guys? chloe thinks we’re all preeeeeeettyyyyyyyyyy
RichBich: well jerms already seems to think so abt u mike
Player1: alright 1 don’t ever call me mike
Player1: E V E R
Player1: and 2
Player1: i am now deceased i hope ur happy with urself
RichBich: oh noon, whatever are we gonna do abt jeremys broken heart :’c
Player1: don’t do me like this ranch
RichBich: do you like u want jerms to do u??
RichBich: ALSO I THOIGH THE RANCH NAME DIED PLS DON’T BRING IT BACK
Player1: iF U FUCKIN STOP CALLIN ME OUT LIKE THIS MAYBE I WILL
RichBich: oh so u admit u want jerms to do u ;3c
Player1: that’s it
RichBich: wait no
RichBich: michael i didn’t mean it i’m sorry pls don’t do this to me im begging u
Player1: shoulda thought of that sooner
Player1 changed RichBich’s nickname to RanchDressingBoy
RanchDressingBoy: nooooooooooooooooooo
Chatroom: F I G H T
Player1 changed group name from ‘F I G H T’ to ‘Ranch Boy’s Back In Town’
Player1 changed RichBich’s nickname to RanchDressingBoy
RanchDressingBoy: i don’t deserve this
Player2: wtf did u do rich????
Player1: HIS NAME IS RANCH NOW
Player1: HE HAS WRONGED ME FOR THE LAST TIME
Player2: *wtf did u do ranch????
Player1: better
RanchDressingBoy: et tu, jerms?
MythicBinch: why are our friends so fucking weird
GossipGirl changed MythicBinch’s nickname to OneOfUs
They’ve been rehearsing the routine for Fight for Me for a few weeks when their friends request comes up again. Jeremy has been learning to fight in slow motion and he’s actually having a lot of fun. He also feels like he’s become good enough at this to show their friends. Christine even says he looks bad ass, which is something he never thought he could accomplish. But he has to admit he does feel rather bad ass with the long coat swishing around at his motions, and taking down two rather burly looking guys with a book as his weapon of choice. During rehearsal that week in December, Christine and him sneak them into the auditorium right before rehearsal starts. They giggle quietly, trying to shush their friends as they settle into the seats without being noticed. They sneak them as close to the stage as they can, wanting them to have a good view. There’s only five minutes left until rehearsals start when Jeremy and Christine start making their way down to the stage. Michael grabs for Jeremy one last time,
‘’You’re gonna be awesome.’’ he says, leaning in close so he won’t have to raise his voice, Jeremys face is a light pink, and he can feel the heat rise in his own face, then he lets go. Jeremy smiles shyly, then it grows into something confident, and he walks away. Michael is left sitting there, leaned forward slightly, awestruck. That confident smile was new. And it was hot. Shit. He’s so gay. He realizes he hasn’t moved, and Jeremy and Christine are almost down by the stage, so he sits back in his seat quickly. It does nothing to alleviate the knowing looks and smirks he receives from his friends. He glares back, before very pointedly turning back to look at the stage. Mr.Reyes has just arrived and he’s directing the cast into position, not that they don’t really know them already. They’ve been in these positions for what feels like way too long.
Mr. Reyes yells action, and it’s like the stage comes alive with a new world. Jeremy approaches Christine, long black coat swaying lightly. It looks almost a little weird to see him with his regular clothes underneath, but the coat helps show off how tall he actually is, gives his shoulders a little more width.
‘’You shouldn’t have bowed down to the swatch dogs and the diet coke heads. They’re gonna crush that girl.’’ Jeremy says, his voice holds no nervousness, there’s not a trace of his stutter. But he’s not really Jeremy anymore, is he? He’s like a different person. Christine looks at him.
‘’I’m sorry, what?’’ Jeremy does not look amused at her words,
‘’You’ve clearly got a soul, you just need to work hard keeping it clean. We are all born marked for evil.’’ he says, and moves as if to walk away, Christine lunges after him, stopping him in his tracks.
‘’Ok, don’t just quote Baudelaire at me and then walk away. I don’t think I caught your name?’’ she says.
‘’I didn’t throw it.’’ Jeremy snaps back, and Rich has to stifle a snort. Christine backs off, further right on the stage, while Jeremy takes front and centre stage, opening his hardcover book. Two guys in football jackets to the left start talking, gesturing to Jeremy as he minds his own business.
‘'Who does that guy in the jacket think he is anyway, Bo Diddley?’’  one says.
‘’Veronica’s into his act no doubt.’’ the other observes.
‘’Let’s kick his ass!’’ the first exclaims.
‘’Nah, we’re seniors man, we’re too old for that shit!’’ but his valiant effort is ignored as knucklehead #1 pushes past, approaching Jeremy.
‘’Hey sweetheart! What did your boyfriend say when you told him you were moving to Sherwood, Ohio?’’ and good lord he is so obnoxious. Knucklehead #2 follows swiftly, walking up and smacking the back of Jeremys head as he speaks,
‘’My buddy Kurt just asked you a question!’’ okay yeah they’re both obnoxious. The small group in the seats have officially had enough of them.
‘’Hey Ram, doesn’t the cafeteria have a no gays allowed rule?’’ Knucklehead #1 says, and if he was a real dude he would be getting his ass kicked at this very moment. Jeremy doesn’t even look fazed though, he just looks…annoyed. Which isn’t the reaction they’d expect from their Jeremy.
‘’They seem to have an open door policy for assholes though.’’ Jeremy snaps, putting extra force behind the word ‘assholes’. The other two look outraged, the six in the seats have to hold back from yelling in support of their boy.
‘’Hold his arms.’’ Knucklehead #1 says, and Knucklehead #2 forces Jeremys arms behind his back. He draws his right arm back as far as he can for show. As he lunges forward to punch Jeremy breaks free and blocks it with the book, before swinging around and smacking it across the face of the guy who was holding him. It’s very close, but it shows that the hits didn’t actually connect, but the actors are good at following trough with the motions, reeling back and falling to the floor dramatically. It all happens very fast, and then then the cast starts singing. Multiple voices echo across the auditorium exclaiming ‘holy shit!’ to a beat that isn’t playing. The first guy who tried to punch Jeremy is coming back for more, but Jeremy blocks him and pretends to kick him in the crotch. He goes down as the other guy steadies himself on his feet.. The cast is still singing those two words. As he approaches Jeremy turns, sees him, and throws an arm back. He swings it towards the guys face, slowing down as the cast drags the last word out, freezing as he’s about to connect what looks to be a solid slow-mo punch. The cast goes quiet and Christine has finally looked up from the notepad. As Jeremy stills completely, the guy in front of him freezing with what is probably an accurate grimace of someone about to get sucker punched in the face, Christine steps up and points directly at Jeremy. Her face is one of pure awe, with maybe some lovestruck splashed in for good measure. Michael can’t help but agree.
The guy who was kicked in the nuts is frozen on the ground, legs spread and hands clutching his crotch, while everyone else is frozen in various poses of shock, all over exaggerated to enhance the comedic effect of the scene. Christine is still moving, looking like she’s been placed outside of time. It’s mesmerizing. And then she starts singing,
‘'Why when you see boys fight, does it look so horrible yet…..feel so riiiiight?’’ her voice is clear and carries across the auditorium.
‘’I shouldn’t watch this crap, that’s not who I am, but with this kid…daaaaaaaamn!’’ she’s rocking back and forth a bit, trying to convey how something like love at first sight is supposed to have kicked in. She doesn’t move gracefully like other productions have called for, because here she’s playing something she knows how to be in real life. Just an awkward teenager, trying to survive high school.
‘’Hey, mister no-name-kid, so who might you be?’’ she turns her head to look at Jeremy, his face is frozen in an outraged snarl, not really ideal for longingly gazing at, but hey.
‘’And could you fight for me?’’ she kets her knees bend, moving back a little, before moving forward at the start of her next line,
‘’And hey, could you face the crowd?’’ she’s looking directly at Jeremy, but heads around behind the guy he’s almost punching in the face.
‘’Could you be seen with me, and still act proud?’’ she ducks under his outstretched arm, standing between the two frozen-in-place boys, facing Jeremy. She takes a moment to point and give a short ‘HA’ in her clear crisp voice at the guy on the ground.
‘’Hey, could you hold my hand?’’ at this she reaches out and takes hold of Jeremys other hand, his fingers are spread out and she fits her own between the spaces perfectly, gently holding on.
‘’And could you carry me trough no mans laaaand?’’ she lets go, walking away, back to where she was standing when the fight broke out.
‘’It’s fine, if you don’t agree, but i would fight for you,’’ she turns her head back, looking at Jeremy again,
‘’if you would fight for meeeeeeeeee.’’ as she drags the last note out Knucklehead #2 starts moving his arms upward, Jeremys fist is oh so slowly creeping closer to his face, and the others around them are seemingly unfreezing as well.
‘’Let them drive us underground, I don’t care how faaaaar.’’ at this point the dude looks like he’s doing a terrible velociraptor parody, and it’s sort of fucking hilarious.
‘’You can sent my broken booones, and I know CPR.’’ Christine sways a bit and Jeremys fist connects with the guys jaw, his face turning, and it’s like a ripple is set trough the cast as they increase the tempo a notch. Knucklehead #1 is struggling to get on all fours trough the imaginary pain.
‘’Well woah, you can punch real good.’’ Knucklehead #2 finally falls to the ground as the other gains his footing.
‘’You’ve lasted longer than I thought you wouuuuuld.’’ as he turns he takes a swing at Jeremy, arm flying around in a wide arc, still a little slower than real life.
‘’So hey, mister no-name-kid,’’ and he misses completely, Jeremy is standing there watching the fist fly by with an obvious distance between it and himself. Christine is walking up behind him, watching the fight intently, clearly part of this worlds time flow again as she moves at the same speed. Her singing remains the same.
‘’If sometime you’re freeeeeeeeeeee.’’ Jeremy makes a show of raising his arms, splaying them out in disbelief before reaching for the other guys head, leaning his own as far back as it will go.
‘’Wanna fiiiiiiiiiight for meeeeeeeeeee?’’ Christine raies a fist in the air as Jeremy slwoly, oh so slowly, brings his own head and the other guys head together. It looks like they’re just touching foreheads, which is kind of hilarious, but the expressions and the way they almost instantly part again makes it clear. This is supposed to look very painful.
‘’If you’re still aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiive,’’ Chrisitne sings, pumping her fist in the air, very on board with the show of violence in front of her. Jeremy leans all the way back, holding the other guys head out as far as he can reach, he pulls an intense face before slowly bringing them back yet again.
‘'I would fight for youuuuuuu,’’ Jeremy repeats the movements again, but as he leans back this time he lets go of the guys face. Christine is still pumping he fist in the air, looking super excited about the fight, looking super excited about Jeremy. The cast around them is coming alive singing their chorus of ‘holy shit’s.
‘’If you would fight for meeeeeeeeeee!’’ Knucklehead #2 goes down, clutching his forehead. Christine is still holing the final note as she steps to the front side by side with Jeremy. He raises a hand to smooth down his hair as she points to him with her thumb, nodding at a, somewhat, non existing audience as if to say ‘did you just see what he did?’. The small audience in the stands can’t help but agree. Oh yeah they just saw that. And it was fucking incredible. They have to fight the urge to stand up and clap. Jeremys eyes focus on them, and he gives a small mock bow, when he straightnes up again Michael swears he sees those blue eyes lock onto him. They hold him captive for a second before Mr. Reyes asks them to resume the start positions and then Michael finds he can breathe again. He swallows, mouth gone a little dry. He avoids eye contact with the others, but he knows there looking at him again. He just knows it.
They watch the same scene unfold another five times, but Mr. Reyes keeps stopping them, correcting movements or stances or timings or facial expressions. He’s a bit of a nit picker, Michael realizes, but he does see the improvement his directions have on the scene. They experiment a bit with what Christine can do as she moves trough the scene, unstuck in time. Try out different timings fro little things, trying to land the punch lines (ha) in the best ways possible. They’re on run trough number seven, perfecting the fake punches and trying to make them believable, when Jeremy holds the book just a little too close to his face, and the guy who’s pretending to swing at him miscalculates, and hit’s the book with a bit too much force. Jeremy puts one leg out behind him to steady himself, the heel of his foot making contact with the stage echoes loudly trough the room, and everyone stops. He’s looking at the black cover of the hardcover book, feeling something warm trickle down onto his upper lip, his eyes are watering from the sting in his nose, he sneaks his tongue out and yeah that’s definitely blood.
‘’Jeremy?’’ the guy who just punched him, Martin his name is he’s a real sweet kid really, asks worriedly. He realizes he’s been staring at the book for a few good seconds now. He lowers it, and as soon as his nose comes into view Martin gasps.
‘’Oh my god! Jeremy! I’m so sorry!’’ he practically yells, rains his arms and letting his hands hover in the space in front of Jeremys face, wanting to touch, to help, in any way he can but not knowing how. Christine rushes up beside him.
‘’Jermey! Oh my god are you okay?’’ she asks, holing onto his arm. Her hands are warm. He turns as if in a daze to look at her, sees her worried face and seem stop snap out of hit. Bringing a hand up to stop the steady drip of blood.
‘Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.’’ he glances down at his t-shirt, and sees a couple of small red dots. Oh great, this was one of his favorite t-shirts! Mr. Reyes steps up to have a look at him.
‘’Do you feel okay?’’ he asks, and Jeremy nods. His nose doesn’t really feel broken or anything, it’s just a little sore.
‘’Okay, go tot the bathroom and get cleaned up. Everyone else take 5!’’ Mr. Reyes says to the others as Jeremy makes his way to the exit. Michaelis up and out of his seat before anyone else gets a word in. He runs around the outside of the auditorium to meet up with Jeremy.
‘’You okay dude?’’ he asks, once Jeremy is within earshot. Jeremy turns, and he makes for quite the sight. Long dramatic black coat, slightly damp hair from all the physical activity, and blood smeared on his face. He looks…well not intimidating really, but he does look like someone you wouldn’t wanna meet in an alleyway at night.
‘’Yeah I’m fine, just need to go wash. I think it’s stopped bleeding already.’’ he says, selfconsciously rubbing the back of his neck with his not bloodied hand.
‘’I’ll help.’’ Michael decides and starts walking towards the bathroom, Jeremy having to catch up a bit. He looks like he’s about to protest, but seems to change his mind, settling on smiling instead.
‘’Thanks.’’ is all he simply says, but there’s a small smile there, under all the dried blood. Michael leads him to the closest bathroom, directs him to sit on a closed toilet lid, and proceeds to wipe the blood off of him with wet paper towels. Michael is concentrating on not agitating the most likely sore nose, and also getting rid of the dried blood under his chin, that he doesn’t notice Jeremy staring for a little bit. He glances up and catches Jeremys eye, raising one of his eyebrows he asks,
‘’What?’’ but Jeremy only smiles again, that same soft content smile, eyes crinkling and gaze so fond it feels like it might swallow Michael whole, might suffocate him, but wouldn’t that be a way to go? Smothered with love and affection. Sounds like it wouldn’t be the worst, especially if it was from Jeremy, Michael finds himself thinking. He’s glad it isn’t as easy to tell when he’s blushing as compared to Jeremy. Who has seemingly realized he’s been caught staring and is effectively turning into a tomato.
‘’Thanks.’’ is all he says, before averting his gaze, letting Michael finish up the job. He doesn’t protest like Michael thought he would, doesn’t insists that he could do it himself, really. He just…lets it happen. And when Michael’s done and happy with the clean up job, they walk back to the auditorium together, Michael showering him in praise over how bad ass Jeremy looked on stage, and Jeremy figure that one secret might go over very well with him. He wishes that wasn’t the one he was the least worried about to begin with anyway.
Opening night is right after Michaels birthday that May. His birthday is spent in the basement, like so many birthdays before, playing videogames and trying to land all seven of them in food comas. Well, eight this time around. Christine is there. The doorbell and rung one final time at 7:13 pm, and for a second Michael was confused, but it was just a second, because once he realized who was missing he was eagerly running to the door, throwing it open and yanking Christine into a hug.
‘’Yes! Now everyone’s here!’’ he shouts back into the house, and the gaggle of teens gather in the hallway, welcoming Christine. Jeremy is the next to hug her, after she’s removed her shoes (bright yellow doc martens) and jacket (denim and slowly filling up with pins), and she hangs onto him as they lead the way down.
‘’Woah! It’s like a hideout or something! This is so cool!’’ Christine exclaims as she reaches the bottom. And yeah, after having spent years in the same basement they might have gotten used to the decor, but this is Christines first time seeing it. The walls are lined with posters of all kinds, from games to movies to albums to artists to nonsensical shit Michael has found hanging around the city. He’s especially proud of the Swedish one reading ‘Jesus kommer snart, är du redo?’. There are also shelves upon shelves of games, movies, comics, and books covering one entire wall, along with a few stacks underneath the tv, and a few more in the corners. Michaels bed is unmade, covered in blankets and pillows, pac man printed sheets and a Link plushie lying on the floor by the foot of the bed. There’s also a desk (covered in papers) and a desk chair (covered in clothes that are clean enough for one more use, but not yet dirty enough to go in the hamper). It’s very much a lived in space, a little warm and a little dark, but it’s cozy. Jeremy always feels safe as soon as he descends into the atmosphere of the basement.
‘’Welcome to the humble abode of one Michael Mell.’’ Michael announces with a flourish and a bow, Christine giggles and offers up a courtesy of her own, pulling at her shark print t-shirt as if it were a dress,
‘’I humbly accept the invitation.’’ she manages trough her giggles, and when Michael looks up at her he breaks down into laughter of his own. It’s so easy to forget Christine wasn’t always a part of them, and it makes Jeremy happy to know he can have everything he wanted. He has his friends, he has Michael, he has his musical, and he has Christine, and they’re all mixing together and painting the most wonderful sight Jeremy thought he’d never see. He feels like he was afraid everything would get murky, but it just looks like the sky at dusk. Brooke is the soft yellow streaks in the clouds, sunshine rays breaking trough. Chloe is the light pink, turning into deeper darker shades as it enfolds the clouds in perfect harmony with yellow. Jenna is the deep magenta, commandeering and impossible not to notice, but so soft and playful and it wouldn’t be the same without her. Rich is the red burning across the sky, setting the horizon on fire with the raging end of the day, so much energy in such a little space. Jake is golden orange, stretching into the blue of the sky, up and up, keeping the red tethered and the clouds close. Christine is every shade of purple, from the light fluffy purple that bounces on the clouds to the deep purple that burns so brightly alongside the red, she’s ever present and fitting in between everything else. Michael is the deep deep blue, encompassing everything and promising the cover of night, a sky full of stars to admire, a blanket of comforting sleep to be draped over the world. These are his friends, and Jeremy loves them. And they keep reminding Jeremy that they love him too, and he’s convinced that one day they’ll even convince the little voice in his head that keeps lying to him. Jeremy knows where he fits into the picture. He is stormy grey, soft and muffling ashen, fluffy white on his very best days. He feels colorless, but even grey come sin different shades.
‘’I’m gonna kick everyones ass!’’ Rich yells as he belly flops into a beanbag.
‘’You don’t even know what we’re playing yet!’’ Jake accuses him, sitting down on the sofa. There are snacks and soda littered around the small seating area, unopened. The piazza has been ordered and all that’s left to do is to agree on what to play and watch for the night. Michael gets first pick as the birthday boy.
‘’I’m feeling very…gay today.’’ Michael says with a smirk, and the others stare at him in something akin to amused horror.
‘’What?’’ Christine asks, looking around at the others.
‘’Time to get good friends, it’s rainbow road time.’’ Michael exclaims as the others groan and laugh.
Rich does not kick anyones ass. Michael kicks most of their asses actually, Jeremy a close second, and Christine a surprising but well earned third. When the pizza arrives they settle dow to watch the movie Brooke brought. Hush. As a horror enthusiast she’s always armed with at least a couple of either very new or very old copies of movies at all times. The movie keeps them in suspense for just about the entire duration, and Jeremy finds himself with one arm full of Michael and the other arm full of Christine. Jeremy himself doesn’t mind scary movies all that much, there are even some he re-watches, but apparently Christine is as scared as Michael is. He doesn’t mind offering them  comfort and safety, plus it feels nice being basically cuddled in between the two and their high body temperatures. Chloe is clutching onto Brooke as per usual, Jeremy figures that this must be a regular date night thing for the two. Jenna and Jake are pretty relaxed, jumping a few times at the jumpscares, but otherwise not reacting much. Rich hid behind the sofa as soon as something scary happened, and Jeremy has only seen brief glimpses of his hair peeking over the back, before something on screen startles him back down to the relative safeness of the floor, out of the view of the tv. By the end they’re all shouting, rooting for the lady and yelling at her to kick the creeps ass. When it’s over Jeremy turns to Brooke,
‘’That was fucking awesome! Maddie is a kick ass lady, holy shit! Did you see that final move? Corkscrew, the asshole never even saw it coming. Damn.’’ he gushes, and Brooke nods along enthusiastically.
‘’Right? I really like how the movie turned her weakness into her strength as well. And she definitely kicked some serious ass. Women are not to be messed with.’’ she says proudly.
‘’You got that right.’’ Chloe says, no less forceful despite the fact she’s still hiding behind her girlfriend. Although said girlfriend could probably survive any horror movie with her extensive knowledge. Maybe not the worst choice after all. Jeremy chuckles.
‘’You say that as if we don’t know it already.’’ he says with a smile, and Brooke smiles crookedly back at him.
‘’Ah! No! No no no no nononononononoooooooooooooooooooo!’’ Jake collapses defeated into the beanbag as the character on screen goes down. The small pixels disintegrating. Christine sits next to him, having died quite a while before Jake. They’ve tried their hand at level 5 of Apocalypse of the Damned, but alas, no one has gotten anywhere.
‘’This game is super hard! It’s gonna take forever to finish.’’ Christine whines. Rich laughs,
‘’It’s not meant to be finished, the real joy is struggling for your life trying not to be outsmarted by a videogame that’s older than we are.’’ he says.
‘’Yeah, me and Michael have been playing it forever, and we’re only on level 13.’’ the others stare at him,
‘’What?’’ he asks, bewildered.
‘’You guys didn’t tell us you made it past level 12!’’ Jenna complains.
‘’Yeah! Show us the new level.’’ Brooke agrees. Christine looks slightly confused, but relents the bean bag as Jeremy and Michael approach to take their seats.
‘’Okay so like, Jenna was totally right.’’ Michael says, and Jenna fist bumps the air. Jeremy navigates the menu to find the save file.
‘’Yeah, so this is the roof scene and there’s this one guy and you can’t even talk to him but he’s not a zombie or anything and we’re kinda trapped up there? You can’t go back down after going trough the door but it’s just a roof and the zombies are climbing up the walls.’’ Jeremy explains as the save file loads. And sure enough, the two pixelated avatars are on a roof top. There’s a little pixel dude that looks like he’s in a suit standing at the other end, and then zombies start climbing the sides of the building.
‘’You can’t interact with him at all?’’ Jake asks, and Michael shakes his head, eyes trained on the screen. Him and Jeremy are standing facing opposite directions, backs to each other. The best strategy not to get overrun.
‘’We’ve tried just about everything.’’ Jeremy says, cleaving a zombie in two with the fire axe he found in the staircase level. They cut down zombie after zombie, make a path to the guy, but they can’t even touch him. He takes no damage from hits, can’t be interacted with. They’d think he was a statue of he didn’t have the idle animation their own avatars also have. After a few more rounds of fighting, Michael having to drop his gun after running out of bullets, now slashing at the approaching hoards with a kitchen knife, they die. Jeremy first, and without Jeremy to watch his back Michael goes down not too long after.
‘’Fuck!’’ he shouts, throwing the controller on the ground.
‘’Start it up again.’’ Christine says with an intense look on her face. She’s leaning forward slightly, caught up in her own head, and Jeremy hits the blinking RETRY on the screen.
It’s the same short animation of the two avatars exiting the door onto the roof. The other guy stands there. Then the zombies come. Jeremy and Michael hold them off as best they can, waiting for Christine to say something. Which she does. Loudly.
‘’There! Jump off the roof!’’ she shouts, pointing to something in the lower right corner. Jeremy and Michael glance at each other, and before their eyes fully return to the tv in front of them they’re moving to the ledge Christine had indicated. They jump in tandem. The screen goes black and they hold their breaths. The game fades back in and they recognize the pixelated background as a football field.
‘’Christine you’re amazing!’’ Michael yells, and Jeremy throws an arm back to give her a very awkward hug. She giggles and watches as Michael and Jeremy expertly tackle the waves of football gear clad zombies rushing onto the football field.
It’s closing in on 1am, games have been played, movies watched, and now they’re mostly staying up for the hell of it. They’re all sprawled out across Michaels room. Chloe and Brooke have taken the sofa hostage, claimed for their cuddling needs. Christine and Jenna are sprawled across all three bean bags. Jake and Rich are on the floor. The floor is good. And Michael and Jeremy are on Michaels bed, legs dangling off the edge and staring at the ceiling. They’ve been like this for half an hour now, when one of them decided sitting upright wasn’t worth it anymore.
‘’Truth.’’ Brooke says, and Christine makes a thoughtful hum.
‘’What is…your biggest…pet peeve?’’ she finally decides on.
‘’Uuuuuuuuuuhh…oh! when I’m wearing one of those really long cardigans and it gets stuck on stuff like corners and ugh, I hate when that happens.’’ Brooke says, earning a giggle from Chloe and a sympathetic hum from Jeremy and his cardigan loving self.
‘’Jeremy, truth or dare?’’ Brooke asks.
‘’Truth.’’ he answers, not really wanting to risk having to move if he picked dare.
‘’What’s the deal with Ranch Dressing Boy?’’ she asks. Rich groans so loud it almost drowns out Michael and Jeremy laughing. Almost.
‘’Okay okay, so,’’ Jeremy begins once he’s calmed down again.
‘’This story is really stupid, but me and Michael made a pact that we would never let him forget it, and now we are swearing all of the people present into the same pact. Never forget what I’m about to tell you.’’ he sits up slightly and watches as they all nod, sealing the pact.
‘'In middle school Michael, Rich, and I became friends, right? Well middle school Rich was a weird kid, which is why we liked him I guess. He was weird in a good way, in a I-know-I’m-weird-but-I’m-owning-it way.’’ Jeremy begins.
‘’Awwwwww, you guys thought I was cool!’’ Rich interrupts before Jake smacks him lightly and makes shushing noises.
‘’Dude of course.’’ Michael says, clambering up so he’s leaning against the wall next to Jeremy.
‘'Well okay so one day the cafeteria staff are like freaking out about something, it’s a huge mess and they’re all running around trying to keep it secret that someone broke into the backroom and stole something. No one has any idea what’s been stolen. Everyone’s making theories from pudding to a teachers porn stash, at one point someone started a rumor that there had been like loads of drugs in there, and the week after someone had told their parents that a teacher had stashed drugs at school and that a kid had it now, so the parents call the police and then the police shows up and starts asking everyone if a teacher has ever tried to sell them drugs.’’ Jeremy is rambling as if he’s told this story a million times, but the other are listening intently. Rich looks like he wants to sink into the floor. Michael is looking at Jeremy, letting the words wash over him, looking at Jeremy as he gestures with his hands.
‘’Turns out! The math teacher was dealing drugs, so he gets arrested, then the police finally get to know what was actually stolen from the backroom, and then they all just leave with the math teacher. Mr. Thompson was a jerk though, so nobody really cared. Anyway, fast forward three weeks and we’re hanging out on the roof like the rebels we are, and then Rich pulls out a fucking crate. A crate! And he’s all dramatic like he’s confessing to a crime. He stole 27 bottles of ranch dressing from the backroom in the cafeteria, and why? What was the brilliant response you had for us as we scrambled to understand?’’ Jeremy gestures for Rich to reenact his response, and Rich covers his face, heaves a sigh, and says,
‘’I had a feeling it would help during the invasion.’’ Rich says, with no real feeling in his voice. The others erupt into wheezing laughter peppered with questions of why? and what?.
‘’We never got him to tell us what the fuck he meant by that.’’ Michael says, shrugging.
‘’It’s a mystery for the ages.’’ Jeremy agrees, making eye contact with Michael, and then they’re laughing again.
‘’And so it will remain!’’ Rich yells,
‘'Cus fuck if I remember why I said that.’’ he finishes, and they’re all sent back into hysterics.
‘’Ranch Boy.’’ Jake leans over and whispers into Richs’ ear, who promptly smacks him upside the head. It does nothing to stop the laughter.
‘’Michael, truth or dare?’’ Jeremy asks once everyone has calmed down into giggles.
‘’Truth.’’ Michael says, also not really wanting to risk a dare entailing moving from his spot, shoulder to shoulder with Jeremy.
‘’What’s something I don’t know about you?’’ Jeremy asks after a little bit. For a second it’s so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. The Michael says,
‘’Oh man, that’s hard, you know basically everything already dude.’’ but in his head he’s running trough secrets he’s kept over the years. They all sound about the same. I haven’t told you this thing because it leads back to me being in love with you. He scrambles to think of something, anything, and hides it with the very believable fact that they tell each other everything. Or well, he thought they did, but he doesn’t actually blame Jeremy for that. Plus it could have been a lot worse, a lot less fixable, than a love for performing and theatre and musicals. Oh. Maybe that’s something?
‘’I listened to the soundtrack to Heathers and then I got obsessed with it so I started listening to other soundtracks like Wicked and The Addams Family, so now I have like a whole playlist of super dramatic musical numbers that I usually listen to in the shower or in the car.’’ Michael says. And it’s true. He has found himself seeking out musicals after learning of Jeremys obsession. They do that a lot, the two of them. If one starts showing interest in something the other will soon follow suit, and then they’ll eventually start obsessing over it together. Their taste in things are so similar that there is rarely anything something one enjoys and the other doesn’t, but when those do crop up it’s not a big deal. It’s more of an I’ll-listen-to-you-rant-even-though-I-don’t-like-this-thing-as-much-as-you-do situation. It’s a pretty good system too. Michael glances over at Jeremy, who looks like he might as well have emptied the night sky of its stars, his eyes are stinging so bright. Michael smiles. Jeremy smiles back.
‘’Thanks.’’ he says, an understanding passing between them. Jeremy knowing Michael has figured it out at least a little, and is accepting this new aspect of his best friend, likes it even. Jeremy leans into Michaels shoulder a bit more.
Another hour passes like so, truths being shared, nothing major, a few sweet moments here and there. Until Chloe strikes.
‘’Truth or dare, Michael?’’ she asks him, and like an idiot he answers,
‘’Dare.’’ because he feels adventurous.
‘’I dare you to kiss Jeremy.’’ she says, smirk on her lips and deviousness in her eyes. It’s 2:21am and thus both too early and too late for this shit. Jeremy has gone bright red next to him.
‘’What the fuck, Chloe?’’ he says, ignoring that Jeremy has sort of frozen beside him.
‘’If you don’t wanna do it then you get to do a penalty instead. Here’s a hint, the penalty is the same, but worse. Choose your poison.’’ she says, and they’re all very very tired so the others are mostly giggling at the situation. He wishes they’d look at him and Jeremy and understand that they’re both kind of dying right now.
‘’You realize Jeremy has final say, I’m not gonna kiss him if he doesn’t want to.’’ Michael says, finally looking at Jeremy, who is still red, and fidgeting, whose eyes have gone just a tad glassy. Michael is hit with the thought that Jeremy probably wants this just as much as him. Then he realizes Jeremy doesn’t know Michael wants to as well. Oh boy. Jeremy makes fleeting eye contact with him, before his gaze darts away again.
‘’I don’t mind dude.’’ he says in a small voice. Michael reaches for Jeremys face before his mind can catch up with what he’s doing. He turns Jeremys head towards him gently, distantly nothing that his fingers have stilled but that his hands are still hovering in front of his chest. Michael leans in, guiding Jeremys head to tilt a little so their noses won’t crash, and connects their lips gently. Jeremy has a tendency to bite his lips when he’s nervous, and he’s nervous a lot, as a result his lips are always chapped. Michael feels it, but he also feels how soft and pliant Jeremy is, and is again hit with the thought that Jeremy must be enjoying this too, and it’s almost too good to be true. Jeremys arms unfreeze and reach out to hold onto the front of Michaels hoodie carefully, as if he’ll disappear if he holds on too tight. Michael smiles into the kiss, and that’s what breaks it. It feels like it lasted a lifetime, and Michael would have been happy to spend his life like that. Warm and comfortable next to Jeremy, kissing him into eternity and loving him even longer than that. In real time it was only like six seconds. He opens his eyes before Jeremy, and gets to see his long lashes flutter against his face, before staring into those deep blue eyes he’s found himself drowning in and saved by in equal measures.
‘’Not too bad.’’ Michael jokes, trying to ease the tension he can see in Jeremys shoulders. It helps a little, as Jeremy cracks a small smile. Bad move, Mell, Michael thinks to himself. Jeremy is flushed red, eyes sparkling, smile pure and radiant joy. He looks so fucking adorable Michael is sure if he wasn’t already in love with him he’d fall right then and there. Fuck he’s so gay. He turns to Jenna.
‘’Truth or dare?’’ he asks her, ignore the knowing looks they’re sending  him, missing the knowing look Christine sends Jeremy.
‘’Truth.’’ Jenna says.
‘’What would you always make sure to have with you during a zombie apocalypse?’’ he asks her.
‘’Nerd.’’ she answers in a fond voice, before actually thinking it over.
‘’A car or some other sort of transportation.’’ she decides, and Michael nods his approval.
‘’Jeremy, truth or dare?’’ she asks next.
‘’Truth.’’ he answers, still slightly red faced.
‘’Who was your first kiss?’’ And he’s right back to full blown tomato. He covers his face with his hands.
‘’Michael.’’
‘’Wait what? That was your first kiss?’’ Michael asks, shocked. Jeremy can only nod.
‘’I thought you kissed Christine in the show? Haven’t you practiced?’’ Jake asks innocently enough. Jeremy hunches down.
‘’We were supposed to but I always chicken out.’’ he says in a meek voice, and Michael puts an arm around him.
‘’It’s cool as long as it’s cool with you.’’ Michael says, and he feels Jeremy relax a little under his arm.
‘’It’s cool.’’ Jeremy responds, peeking out from behind his hands.
Chatroom: Official Canigula Heere Fanclub
MythicBinch kicked Player 1 from the chat
MythicBinch changed group name from ‘Official Canigula Heere Fanclub’ to ‘Too Gay To Function’
MythicBinch added DDRqueen to the chat
MythicBinch: ey chrissy get this mikey has a huge gay crush on jerms and we r p sure jerms has a huge gay crush on mikey
MythicBinch: so we gon get these two idiots together if it’s the last thing we do
DDRqueen: Jermey has a huge gay crush on Michael #confirmed
DDRqueen: oh my god am I glad to know I was right
DDRqueen: but I do feel like I should be the voice of reason and tell you to let them figure it out themselves
DDRqueen: no offence, but meddling isn’t you guys’ strong suit
AmericanDragon: i claim responsibility for that one
DDRqueen: just give them some time
DDRqueen: until like, after opening night DDRqueen: if nothing happens after that I’ll talk to Jeremy
MythicBinch: deal
It’s the day before opening night, a Friday to be exact, and Jeremy comes to school wearing a beanie. His floppy bangs have been pushed underneath the dark blue knitted hat, and only the widows peak of his hairline is showing.
‘’What’s up with the hat?’’ Michael asks when he picks him up for school that morning. Not that he minds or anything, Jeremy looks really cute with the hat.
‘’Promise you wont laugh?’’ Jeremy asks, knowing deep down that Michael would never, but still needing to make sure to ease the nerves. Michael makes an x over his heart, and Jeremy smiles. He wrings his hands together, reaches up and grabs a fistful of the material, hesitates for a second before seemingly steeling himself and snatching it off in one quick jerky movement. He hair is fluffy and slightly curly, a bit messy from having been shoved under the hat. Oh and yeah, it’s pitch black. Michael is at a loss for words. Jeremy won’t look at him, running his hands trough his unruly hair and trying to het it to lie down somewhat normally. Michael reaches out with a hand, and Jeremy is so caught up in not looking at him that he flinches slightly when the hand touches his hair.
‘’Sorry.’’ Michael whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering. Just runs his hand trough to help Jeremy conquer his hair problem.
‘’It’s okay.’’ Jeremy whispers back, because when someone whispers to you you gotta whisper back that’s the rule. He lets his own hands fall away, leaving Michael to fix it. Jeremy feels calmer, and it surprises him because he thought this would stress him out more. But the atmosphere in the car now is just, quiet and soft, calm. The music from the speakers having been turned down in favor of conversation now provides a gentle background noise. Michael retracts his hand after only a few seconds, looking over his handiwork and smiling, satisfied with the result.
‘’It looks nice, dude.’’ he says. Jeremy blushes slightly, smiling and tugging at a lock of hair behind his ear.
‘'Thanks dude.’’ he says.
Once they pull up to school however, the anxiety has returned full force. Michael is one thing. Michael is safe and accepting and the best human being Jeremy knows. School is different. School is prying eyes and whispers in the hallways and laughter that might not even be directed at him but his head will tell him it is and he’ll feel like everyone’s staring even if they’re not and just, no. No. He puts the beanie back on, and Michael gives him an understanding look and a one armed hug before they head into the building together.
Lunch rolls around, like it always does, and Jeremy is the last to arrive at the table.
‘’What’s up with the snazzy looking hat, homie?’’ Jake asks, and gets a raised eyebrow as an answer. Jeremy pulls his chair out and sits down between Michael and Christine. Jake sighs,
‘’I thought way too long about how to bring it up and it turned into something weird, sorry. But for real, hat?’’ Jake tries again, Rich tries to hide a snort behind his hand, it doesn’t work.
‘’Yeah, I mean it’s cute and a good color for you, but what’s up? Bad hair cut?’’ Brooke asks.
Jeremy heaves a sigh, makes eye contact with Michael for moral support, he puts a hand on Jeremys shoulder, then Jeremy reaches for the hat just like he did in the car. He pulls the hat off, ruffling his hands trough his hair to get rid of his hat hair. Christine squeals.
‘’You dyed your hair! You’re gonna be the best JD ever!’’ she yells before flinging both arms around his neck, Michael dodges out of the way of a wayward hand, but he’s smiling.
‘’Damn dude, cool!’’ Rich says, reaching out across the table to ruffle his had trough it. Chloe stops him. They make eye contact and Rich seems to catch himself.
‘’Oh, sorry, can I touch it?’’ he asks, arm still hovering in the space between them, he’s leaned out if his seat just about as far as he can, so Jeremy bends forwards and says,
‘’Yeah sure dude.’’ with a small giggle, and then Rich is running his hand trough the locks of black hair. Jeremy is staring at the table, and smiling. They all take a turn ruffling his hair, and Jeremy just keeps smiling brighter and brighter. Christine finishes ruffling his hair fondly, and that just leaves Michael. But he’s had his fill of ruffling, so he simply reaches out and fixes Jeremys hair like he did that morning, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear and smiling. His hand brushes against Jermeys cheek as he pulls it back.
‘’You gonna leave the hat off now?’’ he asks, with no expectations behind it. Jeremy bites his lip, glancing at the others at the table, they all give him reassuring looks.
‘’Yeah, I guess.’’  he says finally.
A few minutes before the bell rings Michael excuses himself from the table,
‘’I forgot a book in my locker, I’ll see you in English class, yeah?’’ he tells Jeremy, who nods happily before turning back to his conversation with Jenna. Michael garbs his bag, heavy with all the books he needs, and heads to the front desk.
‘’Are there any more tickets for the show tomorrow?’’ he asks.
‘’Just a few, none of them are next to each other though.’’ the lady answers.
‘’That’s okay I just need one.’’ Michael says.
Saturday morning Jeremy wakes up more excited and more worried than he’s ever felt before. He showers, gets dressed in a floral t-shirt, fluffs up his hair in the mirror. He’s still not really used to seeing himself with black hair, but he gets a small kick every time he catches sight of it in a reflective surface. It makes everything even more real. This is happening. Oh god this is happening. His smile falls a little. No. No we’re not going down that road. He shakes himself, waving the thoughts away, ignoring the rolling waves of nausea trying to overtake him. He mutes the urge in him to crawl back into bed, ignores the voice that says his clothes are terrible, he looks terrible, everything is terribly, being seen by anyone is going to be the worst thing ever today. He swallows, avoids looking at his reflection as he exits his bedroom, heads down into the kitchen. It’s 11am, and he’s going to head out to meet the others for something like lunch, before him and Christine head to the school to get ready for later that evening.
‘’I’m heading out dad!’’ He shouts behind him, opening the door and watching as Michaels PT Cruiser pulls up to the curb.
‘’When will you be home?’’ his dad shouts back.
‘’Like 9 at the latest I think, I’ll text you if I run late.’’ he slips on his converse, foregoes a jacket, deeming his cardigan enough for the pleasant warmth of spring.
‘’Have fun with your friends.’’ his dad says finally, and then Jeremy is out the door. Michael is rocking out to a song Jeremy can’t hear, singing along and dancing in his seat. Jeremy opens the door and
‘’Cut the monsters! Cut the curses! Keep the intro! Cut the verses!’’ Michael sings along.
‘’Are you listening to Shrek?’’ Jeremy asks, laughter in his voice. He settles in and closes the door, Michael ignores him in favor of dramatically flailing along to the song,
‘’And the waiting! The waiting! The waiting! The waiting! The waaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiing!’’ Michael pauses the song as the long tone ends, cutting Fiona off at the start of the next line.
‘’Hey don’t knock it!’’ Michael says, half defensive half laughing.
‘’I’m not!’’ Jeremy replies, giggling. He stops, looks down at his folded hands in his lap.
‘’But can we not listen to musicals, my nerves are kinda all over the place, I think I need something wordless.’’ he says, Michael reaches over and puts a hand on his shoulder.
‘’Of course dude.’’ he says, and then Rain by Sinitus Tempo is filtering trough the speakers. Slow and steady.
‘’There’s the star!’’ Jenna exclaims as Christine walks over, the lat to arrive at their chosen cafe. Christine makes a show of twirling and bowing gracefully, and the table claps as she sits down. Jeremy hands her the peppermint tea and blueberry muffin they’d gotten her earlier, and she smiles gratefully.
‘’So, how’re you feeling?’’ Michael asks, sipping his iced mocha.
‘’Like…like I’m about to explode from happiness and joy and nerves and the impatience of finally putting this show on for everyone to see.’’ Christine answers in a breath, and the others are smiling, laughing a little as she giggles. Jeremy smiles timidly, and Michael knocks his shoulder against his gently. Jeremy leans into the touch gratefully.
‘’I feel like I’m gonna vomit.’’ Jeremy admits, laughing nervously. Chloe raises an eyebrow.
‘’You almost always feel like that though, right?’’ Jeremy nods hesitantly.
‘’And it always turns out okay in the end.’’ Chloe finishes, matter of factly, like it’s a given nothing bad can happen.
‘’Yeah, chill out dude, you’ve practiced for a reason!’’ Rich says, reaching over and knocking his fist against Jeremys arm gently.
‘’Yeah Jeremy, if the rest of the performance is half as good as the part we saw in December, everything’s gonna be fine!’’ Brooke adds. Jeremy smiles gratefully.
‘’I’m so excited though, this is gonna be the first of many productions you’ll star in Jeremy, I’m sure of it! You’re gonna take the world by storm someday.’’ Christine says, jostling him slightly.
‘’Same goes for you Christine, I mean you’re already taking Middle Borough by storm, the world will follow.’’ Jeremy murmurs, lips quirked up at one side, eyes a little unsure.
‘’Well duh!’’ Christine says smiling brightly,
‘’But this is your first show, I’m an experienced veteran of the theatre!’’ she says, mock seriously.
They share a laugh.
The clock inches ever closer to 3pm, and Christine and Jeremy head off to get ready for the show at 5. They wave their goodbyes as the two exit.
‘’I need to go take care of something.’’ Michael says not long after, when he’s sure Jeremy and Christine are well on their way.
‘’What?’’ Rich asks.
‘’I’m gonna talk to Jeremys dad.’’ Michael says, and they let him go.
‘’We’ll meet you at the park, the one with the fountain.’’ Chloe says as he exits. and he gives a wave over his shoulder to let her know he heard her. He plays Wicked, hums along as he drives, and he finds himself outside the Heere household again in not too long. He feels in his pocket, touching the sliver of paper, and makes his way to the door. He rings the doorbell, and waits. Mr. Heere opens the door in a bathrobe, and is seemingly startled to see him there.
‘’Michael? Didn’t you pick Jeremy up earlier?’’ he asks.
‘’Uh, yeah. I’m actually here to talk to you.’’ he answers. Mr. Heere raises an eyebrow, but gestures for him to come in anyway, Michael does. They sit at the kitchen table. Michael pulls out the ticket he bought yesterday, places it on the table, and slides it towards him.
‘’Jeremy is in this. He’s good. I don’t think he told you, but I think he’d appreciate it if you came.’’ is all he says. Mr. Heere picks up the small sliver of paper.
‘’A musical?’’ Michael nods.
‘’I mean, he sings all the time, but I didn’t know he was this serious about it.’’ Mr. Heere admits.
‘’It’s today, at five.’’ Michael says. Mr. Heere looks at him with deep brown eyes, and they might be different in color, but he recognizes Jeremy in the sadness he sees there, in the regret, in the way they look both younger and older at the same time.
‘’Thank you, Michael.’’ is all he says.
The lights lower and the audience falls silent as if a spell has been cast. Thought the darkness Christines voice rings out, loud and confident.
‘’September first, 1989. Dear diary.’’ then the music kicks in. The light illuminates the stage, and there she is. Her hair is lightly curled, giving it volume.
‘’I believe I’m a good person.’’ they watch as she gestures her way across stage.
‘’I think there’s good in everyone, but here we are, first day of senior year and… I look around at all these kids I’ve known all my life and I ask myself.’’ she flings her arms out, book in one hand, a pen in the other.
‘’What happened?’’ she pleads, eyes searching the audience as if she can actually see anyones face over the blinding lights trained on her. The rest of the stage is illuminated, revealing the ensemble cast. Jeremy hasn’t made his entrance yet. Actually he doesn’t show up until the part they saw at rehearsal. Except it’s something else entirely. With he stage lighting and the full costume. His dark floppy hair styled and hanging in his face. He doesn’t look like Jeremy, his posture is relaxed and confident, and when those two guys walk up he doesn’t even flinch. He looks so unbothered by it all. The fight scene is even better this time around, and Christine sings her heart out, moving across the stage, hitting her cues and the comedic cues. The audience is wonderfully responsive as well. Laughing when the punchline drops and not being ashamed to do it. Jeremy and Christine had told them that sometimes people just don’t laugh during theatre even though some parts are supposed to be funny, just because they’re at the theater and feel like laughing isn’t appropriate, and then they get that trend going for the whole night and, yeah they’d been a bit nervous about that. The group make sure to laugh loudly and freely, just in case someone isn’t pulling their weight in the audience.
Jeremy doesn’t show up again until he’s striding into the makeshift stage set of a pink plastic 7/11.
‘’Greetings and salutations. Want a slushie with that?’’ he says, voice lowered just a little and tone confident. The black coat sways as he walks, moving with every motion, making his whole being that much more dramatic. It could be funny, if Jeremy wasn’t displaying the persona he’s currently putting on. The banter continues a bit, back and forth, Jermey picking up a cup and placing a straw in it.
‘’What’s a Baudelaire quoting badass like you doing in Sherwood Ohio?’’ she asks eventually.
‘’My dads work. He owns a deconstruction company.’’ he says, leaning casually against the pink shelf.
‘’DE-construction?’’ she stares quizzically at him.
‘’Yeah, the old man seems to enjoy tearing things down.’’ he un-slouches, planting his feet wide and making a slightly weird face with an equally weird voice,
‘’My name’s Big Bud Dean and if it’s in the way, I’ll make your day!’’ he says, gesturing with the hand not holding the slushie.
‘’Oh yeah! Then he pushes the plunger and the whole screen blows up.’’ Christine says, laughing kinda dorkily, looking out at the audience. Then she freezes, as if realizing what she’s just said.
‘’Uh, that’s…that’s your dad?’’ she says, looking back at him awkwardly. The audience laughs at her awkward tone.
‘’In all his semi psychotic glory.’’ Jeremy says offhandedly.
‘’Hmm, yeah well, everybody’s life’s got static.’’ she throws out, and on cue a very long very loud car horn drowns out all other sound, followed by a shout from off stage,
‘’VERONICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!’’ the two on stage stare off to the side, as if looking at the source somewhere beyond the edge. Once it dies out Jeremy looks back, and Christine waves her arms around as if to say ‘yeah’.
‘’For example, I don’t really like my friends.’’ she explains.
‘’I don’t really like your friends either.’’ Jeremy is quick to add.
‘’Bag the party, hang out here?’’ he offers her, easy smile on his face. The music starts up, gently in the background.
‘’Ooooh, seven eleven, swanky first date.’’ Christine answers, wagging her eyebrows a bit as she gets some candy from one of the few things that aren’t pink but actually looks real. She’s smiling bright, taking a couple steps closer.
‘’Come on, I love this place.’’ he answers, sweeping his arms out as if he is showing her some grand kingdom and not a small, mostly pink, seven eleven.
‘’No offense, but why?’’ she says, nibbling on the candy she picked up.
‘’I’ve been trough ten high schools, they start to get blurry.’’ he starts off, his voice is low and gentle, as if he’s still only in conversation with her. His profile is lit by the stage lights, and he looks magnificent. His face is open, tiptoeing around vulnerable, for the first time in the show.
‘’No point planting roots, cause you’re gone in a hurry.’’ he’s leaning on the pink shelf again, holding onto the cup like a lifeline. Michael isn’t sure if that’s Jeremy or JD, but it doesn’t look out of place anyway.
‘’My dad keeps two suitcases packed in the den, so it’s only a matter of when.’’ he shrugs as if he’s not bothered, but it’s a lie, his face looks sad, and Michael isn’t sure if it’s because he knows Jeremy or if Jeremy is just that good. He wouldn’t doubt his talents though.
‘’I don’t learn their names, don’t bother with faces.’’ the music swell slightly, and so does Jeremys voice.
‘’All I can trust is this concrete oasis.’’ he fondly runs a hand along the pink shelf, glancing around as if he’s appreciating the sight.
‘’Seems every time I’m about to despair, there’s a seven eleven right there.’’ he finally looks out across the audience, holding his hands up as if visualizing the corner store on the street up ahead of him. A crooked smile is playing on his lips, his hands are not shaking even though he’s now loosely holding onto the cup. Michael sees Jeremys shoulders lower slightly, and he knows. Jeremy’s got this in the bag.
‘’Each store is the same, form Las Vegas to Boston, linoleum isles that I love to get lost in.’’ he moves away, walking around the shelf, but keeping his eyes on Christine, walking towards her once he rounds the shelf.
‘’I pray at my altar of slush, yeah I live for that sweet frozen rush.’’ Jeremy stops in front of her and takes a long sip trough the straw, then makes a show of grimacing and putting his hand to his temple.
‘’Freeze your brain, suck on that straw, get lost in the pain.’’ his voice is back to slightly gentle, and the lights adopt a blue tinge as he turns to Christine again, who’s backing up very slowly.
‘’Happiness comes when everything numbs, who needs cocaine?’’ he takes a step closer, and she takes a step back, until they’re leaning against the edge of the raised part of the stage in the back.
‘’Freeze your brain, freeze your brain.’’ he sings gently, extending the cup towards her.
‘’Care for a hit?’’ he offers, speaking now.
‘’Does your mom know you drink all that crap?’’ she retorts.
‘’Not anymore.’’ he says simply, then he steps away from the edge, towards the audience.
‘’When mom was alive, we lived halfway normal.’’ he shrugs, Christine looks slightly scandalized. The audience chuckle at her dramatic face.
‘’Now it’s just me and my dad we’re less formal.’’ he gives the audience a ‘what can you do’ kinda face, but his eyebrows are pinched slightly.
‘’I learned to cook pasta, I learned to pay rent. Learnt the world doesn’t owe you a cent.’’ he sings, facing the audience fully.
‘’You’re planning your future, Veronica Sawyer.’’ as he sings her name, he whips his head around to stare at her again
‘’You’ll go to some college, and marry a lawyer.’’ he’s slowly turning around to face her again.
‘’But the sky’s gonna hurt when it faaaaalls, so you better start building some waaaaaalls.’’ He raises his arms, slushy cup still in his hand, and then lowers them slowly, finally coming to face her again.
‘’Freeze your brain.’’ he sings, raising the cup into the air now.
‘’Swim in the ice, get lost in the pain.’’ he sways it in front of her, as if trying to tempt her.
‘’Shut your eyes tight, til you vanish from sight, let nothing remaaaaaiiiiin.’’ his smile grows, as if this is a fact he is extremely happy about, slushy cup still held out in front of him, like temptation. Like salvation. Michael remembers what Jeremy had said about this song.
‘’Freeze your brain.’’ he turns back to the audience, walking towards the edge of the stage.
‘’Shatter your skull, fight pain with more pain.’’ he raises a hand an makes a motion as if something is exploding next to his head. His face is intense, but Michael can see Jeremy slipping though the cracks as JD breaks.
‘’Forget who you are, unburden your load.’’ his arm lowers, he’s singing his heart out, desperately flinging his heart out into the air.
‘’Forget in six weeks you’ll be back on the road.’’ he’s staring out into the bright lights and the darkness beyond. Michaels remembers how Jeremy had said he saw himself in JD.
‘’When the voice in your head says you’re better off dead, don’t open a veeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin.’’ the last word is sung like a desperate plea, voice rising rising rising. it’s so raw, like an exposed nerve, like a sore spot you keep touching just because it hurts. He remembers how he said he saw himself in JDs vulnerability. The music pauses as Jeremy heaves a few desperate gasps. There’s a moment of silence, as if he finds that calm space again.
‘’Just freeze your brain.’’ his voice is so soft and gentle, his eyes close, he brings his hands together, he looks serene. He looks at peace, like he finds the calm again.
‘’Freeze your brain.’’ his eyes open again, his face almost expressionless. Christine approaches from behind.
‘’Go on and freeze your brain.’’ he turns to look at her as she steps closer, singing the last few notes at her. Then the music changes.
‘’Try it.’’ he syas, the music playing a few sudden loud notes as he thrusts his arm out, offering it to her. The audience explodes. They’re clapping, and Jake is wolf-whistling, Michael is close to tears. He made a point not to listen to the song beforehand. He wanted Jeremy to be the one who sang it for him first, because it meant a lot to him, and now he knows. And he kind of wants to run on stage and hug his best friend, but he can’t, so he sits there, clapping like his life depends on it. Jeremy and Christine have to freeze for a second, as the clapping just keeps going, and Michael can see Jeremy fighting a smile, sees the pleased flush of his face, even though it’s barely visible from the lights. Christine grabs the cup as the applause finally dies down, and takes a good, long sip of it.
‘’Yeah, I don’t really get the big dea- Oh son of a bitch!’’ she bends over, putting a hand to her temple, and the fact that Christine just swore startles a laugh out of the six of them. They look at each other as if to convoke each other that yeah they really just heard that.
‘’Veronica!’’ Heather yells from off stage again
‘’Ah, I gotta go.’’ she hands the cup back as she gestures with a thumb over her shoulder, taking a step backwards to where the shout came from.
‘’So I see.’’ Jeremy replies, a coy smile on his lips a she reaches out and takes the cup back. He looks fine again, as if Jeremy hadn’t been seconds away from some sort of breakdown. Michael swallows thickly, tries to tell himself Jeremy sees it as a comfort song, because it reminds him of Michael. He feels slight pinpricks behind his eyes, but holds it back.
Michael gapes trough the scene where Jeremy literally kills someone holy shit what the fuck. And then Jeremy steps back onto stage holding two guns and oh my god, Okay yeah things just got a whole lot more real.
‘’Woah, are those real?’’ Christine says, voicing Michaels own question out loud. Logically he knows it isn’t real, like in the real scope of things. But in the play? Who knows anymore.
‘’Yeah, but we’re filling them with ‘Ich Luge’ bullets.’’ Jeremy says, and Michael doesn’t know german but he’s pretty sure that’s bullshit.
He was right that’s total bullshit.
‘’Three.’’ Jeremy says as he steps out of the shadows at the edge of the stage. A shot louder than thunder sounds trough the entire auditorium, and then one of the two boys standing there in boxer falls to his knees, and collapses. Christine shoots at the other, but he runs away. Christine laughs at first, then Jeremy chases after the guy who ran away, and as they shout off stage, Christine edges closer to the boy on the floor.
‘’Ram? …Ram you’re just unconscious, right?’’ she shakes him violently, desperation in her voice, fear in her eyes.
‘’Ram!? Ram!?!’’ she’s shaking him furiously now. The still alive boy runs back onstage, Jeremy hot on his heels. Jeremy looks furious, waving a gun around. He actually looks kinda scary.
He shoots the kid, and it’s just a play, but right then and there he’s channeling JD so well Michael forgets it’s actually Jeremy. Then he sees the gun shake slightly, and he knows Jeremy is still in there, and probably a little horrified at having pretended to kills someone.
‘’What the fuck have you done!?’’ Christine yells in anguish, and Jeremy turns to her, shadows hiding his face slightly as he stares down at her, singing as he approaches.
‘’I worship you. I’d trade my life for yours. We’ll make them disappear. We’ll plant our garden here.’’
Christine falls to her knees, crying, and Michaels heart aches. Jeremy approaches, tries to hug her, but she pushes him away.
‘’Our love is god. Our love is god.’’ Jeremy sings as he embraces her anyway, forcing her to let him hold her, and if Michael didn’t know Jeremy he’d be include to punch him right then and there.
They sing that line again and again, together, until the ensemble cast approaches from behind and the lights dim.
‘’Our love is god!’’ Jeremy sings one final time, and then the stage is plunged into darkness.
The lights come on signaling intermission, and Michael leans forward to look down the row at his friends, and they look back at him with the same expression.
Holy.
Shit.
‘’This is fucking intense dude.’’ Jake says, collapsing back in his seat, Rich nodding his agreement.
‘’Like, I knew it was dramatic, but damn.’’ Jenna says.
‘’I need a snack.’’ Michael says, and stands up as if in a daze.
‘’I’ll come with.’’ Brooke says, and together they make their way out.
‘’Jeremy’s like…a whole other person on stage, isn’t he?’’ Brooke says as they exit the auditorium.
‘’Yeah.’’ Michael agrees, a very intelligent and in depth response he knows, but it’s all he’s capable of. They continue making smalltalk, buying drinks and snacks for their friends, before heading back in for act 2. It starts of with organ music, and Christine centre stage with a spotlight trained on her. The sombre atmosphere fades away as ‘I love my dead gay son’ kicks off. Michael thinks this dude might be one of his faves so far. The stage goes dark as they finish, the backdrop lighting up in rainbows before the lights go back up, leaving Jeremy standing with his arms outstretched and Christine with a confused expression and stance. A generally confused everything. Jeremy starts sniffing the air as he steps closer to Christine.
‘’What’s that smell? is that?…tolerance?’’ the audience laughs. Christine begs him to give up on killing people, and it seems to work. For now. It’s all downhill from there however. Michael feels his heartbeat speed up to a rhythm he didn’t think the human body was capable of as the ghostly forms of the three dead teenagers follow Christine to her room.
‘’Sorry for coming in trough the window, dreadful etiquette I know!’’ Jeremy says, not looking the least bit sorry. He jumps down onto the stage, leaving Christine on the raised back part.
‘’All is forgiven baby! Come on get dressed, you’re my date to the pep rally tonight!’’ he shouts. He looks like a mad man. Stepping forward so he’s facing the audience he starts singing,
‘’You chucked me out like I was trash for that you should be dead. But, but, but.’’ he waves his hand in time with the beats.
‘’Then it hit me like a flash, what if high school went away instead!’’ he gestures wildly with the piece of paper.
‘’Those assholes are the key, they’re keeping you away from me.’’ he gestures angrily, his voice is slightly strained, and there’s a certain look on his face. Like he’s keeping back the anger, the hurt. Michael didn’t know Jeremy could look like that. He’s actually very glad he’s never seen him have reason to look like that.
‘’They made you blind, messed up you mind, but I can set you free!’’ he sings out towards the audience, gesturing wildly with his arms.
‘’You left me and I fell apart, I punched the wall and cried.’’ he walks backwards, turning towards the raised part of the stage, drawing his arm back,
‘’Bam! Bam! Bam!’’ he punches it three times, yelling each time. Christine flinches where she stands above him.
‘’Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside.’’ walking back out towards the audience, he gestures to his chest, almost punching himself in the ribs.
‘’And so I built a bomb, tonight our school is Vietnam!’’ at the side of the stage the ensemble cast, the students, walk out, a spotlight illuminating them.
‘’Let’s guarantee they’ll never see their senior prooom!’’ Jeremy stalks towards them, like an animal stalking towards its prey.
‘’I was meant to be yours. We were meant to be one. Don’t give up on me now. Finish with we’ve begun. I was meant to be yours.’’ his voice changes, going back to that gentle sweet voice as the lights illuminate the stage, he looks almost innocent where he stands next to the students. But he’s dressed in all black, in contrast to their colorful wardrobe, and he looks more like a harbinger of death that anything else. The Stage plunges into almost darkness again,
‘’So when the high school gym goes BOOM with everyone inside,’’ he’s back to angry gesturing, face contorting in anger. He turns to the group students,
‘’Pchw! Pchw! Pchw!’’ pretending to shoot them as a red spotlight illuminates him, casting odd shadows across his face, his mad grin standing out like nothing they’ve ever seen before.
‘’In the rubble of their tomb, we’ll plant this note explaining why they died!’’ he walks back, until he’s centre stage again, the music cuts out, as the voices of every single student rise in ominous harmony,
‘’We the students of Westerburg High, will die. Our burnt bodies may finally get trough, to you. Your society turns out slaves and blanks, no thanks. Signed the students of Westerburg High. Goodbye.’’ he throws his arms out again, letting his voice pour out,
‘’We’ll watch the smoke pour out the doors, bring marshmallows we’ll make s’mores. We can smile and cuddle while the fire rooooaaaaaars.’’ the students are bathed in red light, a grim visualization of what he’s got planned, but Jeremy looks thrilled.
‘’I was meant to be yours, we were meant to be one.’’ the light shifts again, back to illuminating, back to something akin to comfortable.
‘’I can’t take it alone, finish what we’ve begun.’’ Christine looks horrified where she stands, staring at him, glancing at the students, glancing at the three dead teenagers next to her.
‘’You were meant to be mine!’’ he pounds his chest again, basically screaming the words instead of singing.
‘’I am all that you need!’’ he sounds so desperate, pleading, broken open and spilling everywhere.
‘’You carved open my heart!’’ he tugs something out from beneath his coat, brandishing the gun.
‘’Can’t just leave me to bleed!’’ he clutches the gun to his chest, before running off towards the small staircase leading up to the raised part of the stage. The lights go out, except for a spot on him from the back of the stage, his back is encased in a halo of white light, and he is the consuming black void in the middle.
‘’Veronica open the- open the door please. Veronica open the door.’’ he holds a hand out towards the upper level, where it’s dark and they can’t really see much besides four shapes scrambling around.
‘’Veronica can we not, fight anymore, please. Can we not fight anymore?’’ he takes a step closer to the staircase, hand still reaching out. Then all the lights go out, and it’s just Jeremy.
‘’Veronica, sure, you’re scared. I’ve been there. I can set you free!’’ he’s barely visible, a spotlight from above all that makes his black frame stand out against the blackness of the rest of the stage. His hair makes the light shape a halo around him. Like an angel of death.
‘’Veronica, don’t make me come in there! I’m gonna count to three!’’ he shouts, aiming the gun into the darkness. Then the lights go out totally.
‘’One.’’ he stand still, barely visible.
‘’Two. Fuck it.’’ the staircase lights up, and he scrambles towards them, as if he’s running for his life. As he reaches the top the lights come back on and Christine is hanging there with a noose around her neck, swaying lightly. Jeremy falls to his knees, broken.
‘’Oh god…No! Veronica!’’ he shuffles closer, just a little, makes as if to reach out.
‘’Please don’t leave me alone, you are all I could trust, I can’t do this alone.’’ his hand falls to the floor, he bows his head, voice shaky.
‘’Still I will if I muuuuuuuuuuuust!’’ his voice grows, he looks up into the light that shines on veronica, hands balled into fists. The stage goes dark.
‘’Veronica?’’ the girl playing her mom asks the darkness.
‘’I brought you a snack.’’ she says, appearing at the edge of the stage.
‘’Veronica?’’ she asks a final time, and the lights flood back, revealing that Jeremy is gone, but Christine is still dangling from a noose. She approaches the staircase, catches sight of Christine and she screams. Christine slips her head out immediately, and it devolves into the two just screaming at each other. The dad comes in as well, and they talk before Christine grabs the croquet mallet to arm herself, and steps towards the centre of the stage. A red spot makes her blue jacket purple, and her voice is strong and filled with a mix of anger and regret as she sings.
‘’I wanted someone strong who could protect me.’’ she starts, her voice shaking with anger.
‘’I let his anger fester and infect meeee. His solution is a lie, no one here deserves to die. Except for me and the monster i’ve createeeeed, Yeeaaah.Yeeaaaaaaaah.’’ her voice rises, filled with resolution, and her face is fierce and grimly determined.
‘’Heads up JD, I’m a dead girl walking.’’ she raises the mallet into the air, brandishing it as a weapon. The students enter from the side, singing in the background.
‘’Can’t hide from me, I’m a dead girl walking.’’ she sings, still holding the mallet aloft.
‘’And there’s your final bell,’’ she lowers the mallet and raises her other arm, pointing up to an unseen bell, but it rings all the same.
‘’it’s one more dance and then farewell.’’ she gestures her arm in a slashing motion, like a vicious knife, cutting across the air and bringing an end to everything.
‘’Cheek to cheek in hell, with a dead giiiiirl waaaaalking.’’ she has the mallet raised again, and the students begin marching up onto the raised part of the stage. The lights are red, and everything looks red, and Michael has always always like the color red, but he could do with a little less red right about now.
‘’Veronica! Jason Dean told me you’d just committed suicide.’’ the teen playing Mrs. Flemming exclaims as she practically runs into Christine.
‘’Yeah well, he’s wrong about a lot of things.’’ Christine throws out, swinging the mallet slightly.
‘’I threw together a lovely tribute, especially considering the short notice.’’ she sounds almost sad, Christine seems to ignore her,
‘’Mrs. Flemming what’s underneath the gym?’’ she asks instead.
‘’Boiler room.’’ Mrs. Flemming answers, straight to the point.
‘’That’s it.’’ Christine says and makes to walk off.
‘’What’s going on?’’ the question is thrown after her, Christine twirls around, still moving,
‘’Got no time to talk I’m a dead girl walking!’’ and then she twirls back, running off stage. The lights dim and the red illuminates the back of the stage, where the students are lined up with pom poms.
‘’Hey yo, Westerberg! Hey yo, Westerberg! Tell me what’s that sound? Here comes Westerberg Comin’ to put you in the ground! Go go, Westerberg! Give a great big yell! Westerberg will knock you out, and send you straight to hell!’’ the lights switch, illuminating the lower part as the students turn their backs to the audience. Jeremy is there, Clutching something and then turning away to place it on the ground. He’s obscuring exactly what it is, but it’s not a difficult guess. He places it on the small wall of the raised stage, and then Christine enters.
‘’Step away from the bomb.’’ she says, decisive, no room for argument. And Jeremy jerks back, revealing that yeah, that is a bomb actually. Fucking hell.
‘’And here I thought you’d lost your taste for faking suicides.’’ Jeremy says as he gets up again.
‘’Oh, and this little thing?’’ he says lightly, almost jokingly, pointing at the bomb, bending over a bit as if to inspect it.
‘’I’d hardly call this a bomb.’’ he concludes. He walks closer to her.
‘’This is just to trigger the packs of thermals upstairs.’’ he says, pointing upwards at different spots as he approaches.
‘’Those are bombs.’’ his voice drops again, dangerously low, and he pulls the gun out from his coat again. Levels it at Christine, who stands there, staring it down as if she doesn’t fear death. Michael holds his breath.
‘’People are gonna see the ashes of Westerberg High School and they’re gonna think ‘there’s a school that self-destructed not because society doesn’t care but because that school was society’.’’  he steps closer, grabbing hold of the gun with both hands. Is voice is cold, rising every now and then, and he looks so threatening Michael is impressed with Christine for standing her ground.
‘’The only place that Heathers and Marthas can get along,’’ he cocks the gun,
‘’Heaven!’’ he finishes forcefully.
‘’I wish your mom had been a little stronger. I wish she stayed around a little longer.’’ she sings gently, stepping closer, and he steps back to avoid her.
‘’I wish your dad were good! I wish grown-ups understood!’’ she keep advancing, and he keeps backing up, her voice growing in power. They stop centre stage.
‘’I wish we’d met before, they convinced you life is war!’’ he adjusts his grip on the gun, it’s shaking slightly, and Christine is pleading with him, trying to reach out, but he won’t budge.
‘’I wish you’d come with me-‘’ she tries, only to be interrupted,
‘’I wish I had more TNT!’’  Jeremy almost screams, glancing at the thing stuck to the wall. Christine knocks his arm away, and starts grappling with him. She has to drop the mallet, but then she’s trying to pry his had off of the gun, which seems like a smart move. They keep grappling for it, changing positions and the lights are slowly dimming making it hard to see where the gun is. They’re chest to chest and then it goes off. A spot illuminates the two, Jeremys shocked face, Christines tense shoulders. She takes a small step away, and Jeremy goes down, gun still clutched in his hand. He makes a dull thud in the silence as he hits the floor. Michaels heart lurches in his chest at the small sound he makes on impact.
‘’Was that good for you, cus it kinda sucked for me.’’ Jeremy says, voice strained with imaginary pain, but it sounds so real. He still has the gun, aiming it at Christine, but it looks like he can barely hold his head up to look at her. It proves to much, because his head falls back again, this time for good it seems. Christine rushes over, falling to her knees.
‘’It’s over, it’s over JD, it’s gonna be okay, which wire do I pull? Which wire do I pull, JD?’’ she asks, desperately, voice on the verge of crying as she leans over him. Then she realizes, and she falls back to sit on the floor, hand covering her mouth and eyes glistening. She glances to the bobm, and struggles to get to her feet. She’s limping, clothing the edge of the raised stage part, and then she grabs the bomb, and the stage goes dark. When the lights come back on they’re green, and Christines voice fills the silence.
‘’Dear diary, the irony of this is that I never got to write my own suicide note.’’ she’s clutching the bomb to her chest, and a few sparse chuckles sound from the audience.
‘’Smart girl.’’ Jeremy says from the other side of the stage, he’s holding onto his stomach, clutching the small staircase on that side for support, his voice is laced with pain and he can barely stand. Christine steps back, even though she’s on the opposite side, almost as far away as she can get, already.
‘’Bring the trigger bomb, out here to the football field, and nobody dies. Except you, if you keep holding onto that thing.’’ he uses the edge of the raised part of the stage to make his way closer, pausing to suck in air trough the pain every now and then. He sounds so sad.
‘’I don’t deserve to live.’’ the words are barely out of her mouth before Jeremy retorts,
‘’I respectfully disagree.’’ he lets go of the edge, taking a few stumbling steps towards her.
‘’Give it to me.’’ he says reaching for it, but she steps away, he falls to the floor without the support. ‘’Stay away from me.’’ she says as she goes down with him, stumbling as she’s stepping backwards.
‘’Or what?’’ he asks, almost breathlessly.
‘’I am damaged, far too damaged.’’ he sings, leaning back a little. He does sound…damaged. Defeated.
‘’But you’re not beyond repair.’’ he sings to her, as if realizing he’s beyond saying, but maybe she isn’t. He locks his eyes on her, as fi he’s spotted the last way out, the last chance at salvation, the last good deed he’ll ever be capable of doing. Letting her live.
‘’Stick around here, make things better.’’ he crawls closer, dragging himself by his arms, and he gets so close he’s almost hovering over her. Then he reaches out with the arm not supporting his weight.
‘’Cause you beat me fair and square.’’ he tugs at the bomb, pulling it from her limps arms, and hurries to get out of her reach again. Clambering until he’s standing again, almost like he’s forget ting he has an injury, spurred on by adrenaline and the knowledge it’ll all be gone soon.
‘’Please stand back now.’’ he sings gently, and Christine struggles to her get up, leg still bothering her, but she makes it in the end.
‘’Little further.’’ he sings, and she limps away.
‘’Don’t know what this thing will do. Hope you’ll miss me. Wish you’d kiss me.’’ he’s walking towards the centre stage, and once he reaches it he looks back at her.
‘’Then you’d know I worship you.’’ he turns to face her completely, face resigned, posture ramrod straight and determined.
‘’I’ll trade my life for yours.’’ his voice grows.
‘’Oh my god.’’ Christine sings slightly louder, the events catching up to her.
‘’And once I disappear.’’ he raises his voice over hers again.
‘’Wait hold on-’’ she increase her volume too, desperately so.
‘’Clean up the mess down here.’’ Michael feels tears on his face.
‘’Not this waaaaayyy!’’ Christine pleads one final time.
‘’Our love is god, our love is god, our love is god, our love is god, our love is gooooooooooood.’’ the music swells, ever louder, ever approaching the inevitable. The stage darkening slightly.
‘’Say hi to god.’’ Christine barely manages to get out, her voice choked up. Then the explosion happens. Chloe screams, Michael feels himself startle, feels Jake do the same next to him. The stage had glowed a vibrant orange for a split second, then smoke had erupted from somewhere, and the stage had gone dark. The thought that he’ll get to see Jeremy and hug him and hold him and make sure this isn’t real is the only thing that keeps the sobs from breaking out, and Michael is sorta happy he isn’t breaking down into hysterics because of a musical. He’s just, very close to breaking down into hysterics because of a musical.
The lights come back on and the residual cloud of smoke hangs over the back of the stage. The students and teachers make their way onto the fully lit stage, they’re talking amongst each other, one of them might crack a joke but Michael sin’t really paying attention. Christine limps her way onto the stage, stopping in the centre. The other stare at her, and then the two remaining Heathers approach her, she kisses one on the cheek.
‘’Listen up folks, war is over, brand new sheriffs come to town.’’ she sings, holding the red scrunchie above her head.
‘’We are done with acting evil, we will lay our weapons down. We’re all damaged, we’re all frightened.’’ she sings, tying her hair with it.
‘’We’re all freaks but that’s alright. We’ll endure it, we’ll survive it.’’ her arms fall to her sides, she looks so tired, but then a smile blooms across her face as she looks at Martha,
‘’Martha, are you free tonight?’’ her voice lifts, the tiredness the hurt the pain, all vanishing in an instant. Like she has let it go, like it was nothing, like she can move on.
‘’What?’’ the girl asks, looking like a question-mark, arm in a sling.
‘’Um, my date for the pep rally kind of blew-…me off. So, I was wondering, if you weren’t doing anything tonight, maybe we could pop some Jiffy Pop, rent a video, something with a happy ending?’’ she says, approaching her.
‘’Are there happy endings?’’ it sounds defeated, but there’s a strand of hope in there that Christine tugs on. They sing their way to a happy ending together. They finish strong, and the applause has started even before the lights go out, but it just continues as they come back on, The stage is empty. Backstage Christine has her arms around Jeremys neck, hugging him as the ensemble cast run back onstage.
‘’You were amazing.’’ she whispers into his hair, and he can do nothing but return it,
‘’So were you.’’ he says, and then he has to go. He sees the lights open up before him, runs out onto centre stage. The applause doubles, triples, someone wolf-whistles, and he smiles the biggest he’s probably ever smiled as he lets it wash over him, and he bows. Then he steps to the side and Christine steps out. The audience goes absolutely crazy. She does a bow, then grabs for his hand so they can bow together. The entire cast bows, gestures to the sound and light crew, and then they’re running offstage again.
He gets changed in a blur, he’s so sweaty but he’s riding a high the likes of which he’s never felt before, and in this moment he feels invincible. Like he could take on anything, and maybe even win. Like he could tell his secrets to the people who could hurt him the easiest, and live. He’s back in his street clothes. Pastel yellow floral t-shirt, baby blue jeans, cardigan. He feels so light, like he could soar off into the sky at any moment. Then he exits the dressing rooms and sees Michael, and he knows he wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else than here, right now.
‘’Michael!’’ he yells, he actually yells. He’s so excited. Michaels head snaps to him, and okay yeah no, this is the biggest he’s ever smiled. Michael answers his smile with a blinding one of his own and Jeremys heart leaps. He could kiss him, right there, he could. He feels like he could. Just lean in, press Michael up against the wall and kiss him senseless.
‘’Jeremy!’’ Jenna calls, and he sees the rest of the group making their way over, and then Christine is exiting the dressing rooms and they’re all there.
‘’You were amazing!’’ Jake yells, and everyone joins in, complimenting, sharing their enthusiasm, clambering to tell the two how amazing they were. It takes a few minutes for them all to calm down, but pressed together in that small corner of the hallway, Jeremy feels surrounded by love, so he decides to jump into it, hoping they’ll catch him.
‘’I’ve got something I really need to say.’’ and they all go quiet, he didn’t really expect that, but they look at him, so expectant, he doesn’t want to disappoint them.
‘’I’ve been obsessed with musicals and theatre for a few years now and I kinda wanna get on Broadway one day if I can manage?’’ he says in a rush, voice dying down towards the end and lifting at the very end, so it’s more a question than a statement. They don’t seem to care.
‘’You’re gonna rock the world, Jeremy.’’ Chloe says confidently. and then he gets caught up in another wave of compliments and reassuring and the wave carries them out into the parking lot after a while. Jeremy feels indestructible.
‘’I’ll drive you home, yeah?’’ Michael says as the other part ways, the promise of a proper hang out tomorrow to celebrate having been established.
‘’Yeah, thanks dude.’’ Jeremy says, and they get into the car, into the old worn and comfortably familiar seats. Player 1 and Player 2. Against the world. Jeremy is practically buzzing the entire ride over, making small talk and discussing the show and it alternates between Jeremy gushing over how much fun he had and Michael gushing over how amazing he was. Jeremy doesn’t notice the way Michael keeps tightening his hands on the wheel, how he’s waiting for something. It’s so close, Michael can swear he can taste it in the air between them. He’s waited so long for tonight, and Jeremy is happy like he’s never seen him before, so confidently talking about the things he thought he did good. He pulls into Jeremys driveway far too quickly. He just sits there for a moment, letting Jeremy finish the tangent he had started, just looking at him. Just taking in the glowing eyes the smile the blush the way he’s gesturing. Everything that makes Jeremy, Jeremy, Everything that makes him love him.
‘’But uh, yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow?’’ Jeremy finishes, and Michael hesitates for a second, only a second, before he’s smiling and nodding.
‘’Yeah dude! Gotta party properly, but I can tell you’re about to crash, so go get some rest.’’ he says, and there’s a pit opening in his chest, a black hole nestled in-between his lungs, trying so very valiantly to swallow him whole. He keeps it at bay. Jeremy opens the door. He’s got a leg outside the door when he turns back, looks at Michael and tries to find the courage he had earlier, in the hallway. When he thought he could conquer the world, and have everything he wanted, when he thought he deserved to be happy. Something aches in his chest, and the ache makes him open his mouth, makes him say,
‘’Michael? I…’’ he hesitates, looks down at his lap, back up at Michael, back down to his lap.
‘’Yeah?’’ Michael urges, tense and exited all in one, as if he’s on the brink of falling. He doesn’t know if it’s a goof fall or a bad fall yet.
‘’It’s nothing.’’ Jeremy says, and gets out. Michael stares at the door as it closes, wants to reach out, wants to take what he knows he can have, wants to grab a hold of Jeremy and never let him go. Jeremy is making his way around the car, up towards his door. Michael lets the voice in him win for once, opens the door, gets out, takes a step. Then Jeremy turns.
‘’Michael, wait! I-‘’ he turns and comes face to face with Michael. He looks puzzled.
‘’Sorry, it just…it seemed important.’’ Michael says lamely. Jeremy smiles.
‘’I guess it kinda is.’’ he takes another step closer, and Michael resist taking a step back, letting the distance between them close.
‘’Michael, I’m…’’ he starts, trying to find it in himself to finish, There’s something in the pit of his stomach, something dark and writhing and nauseating and it wants to consume him, wants to drag him down and-
‘’You?’’ Michael asks, and he looks, hopeful? He looks like he needs to know what Jeremy has to say, and the dark feeling is suddenly flooded over with butterflies. His chest fills with warmth and he thinks that even if Michael were to break his heart right now, he could live. He could. Probably.
‘’I love you.’’ he says. It hangs in the air between them, the space that seems to be shrinking, inch by agonizing inch. Michaels face blooms into the most beautiful smile Jeremy has seen in his entire life, and he’s leaning closer closer.
‘’I love you too.’’ Michael whispers into the scant inch that’s left between them, then he reaches up and cups Jeremys face with his hands, closing the distance. Jeremy lets his arms rise, latching onto the front of his hoodie like he did in the basement, what feels like forever ago. It’s not as good as the first one, it’s so much better. It’s so much more. It might even be perfect.
5 notes · View notes
frame-of-mind-story · 6 years
Text
Frame of Mind - Part 113
Synapse pushes the doors open to let Xand, Vanna, Char, Raptor, Rover and Sage in.
“Woah…”
Vanna and Sage looked in surprise. The break room was huge; it had a cafeteria with seating, a sitting room with some tvs, bean bags chairs, a rest room for those needing a break with soft pillows and blankets.
“This is huge… You sure this is a break room?”
Synapse scratched the back of his head as Lumi wandered off to work.
“It is our break room yeah; now I gotta catch up to Lumi for work so try not to wander away from this room ok?”
Everyone nodded except Char who was looking around the room before wandering about silently.
“I guess almost everyone got it”
Synapse caught a glimpse of Char and sighed a little sad but decided to shrug it off for now.
“I will come and check on you guys soon”
Vanna and Sage waved to Synapse as he left the break room; Char at the time managed to wander off to the small nap area and flopped into the pile of pillows and blankets, burying herself in it to have a sleep.
“I shall fix you up little one, but where?”
Xand looked around as Sage pointed to the tv spot.
“Maybe there? We can watch something then”
Xand nodded as Vanna, Raptor and Rover joined.
“Wait, where did Char go?”
Vanna looked around as Raptor blinked and looked around.
‘Did master wander off?’
Vanna placed her hands on her hips and huffed in slight annoyance.
“I wish she was listening a bit; I mean she is upset but at least have the decency to stand within the area!”
Next thing Vanna turned one way only to be greeted with a pillow smacked into her face as Char poked her head up angrily from the nap area and shot a slight glare at Vanna.
“Oh, there you are…”
Char huffed and buried herself back in the pillows and blankets for a nap, Vanna decided to keep the pillow she was thrown and sat on it and sighed.
“What is with her I swear…? But then… Did I do something wrong?”
Xand puts Sage down carefully with her cut off leg before going to get the remote for the tv and turning it on.
“To us it looked like you were fighting pretty badly with that strange guy after he slapped you”
Vanna blinked and tried to recall what had happened.
“I remember that slightly… But after I wasn’t sure”
Sage looked to Xand who sighed softly.
“Well after it looked like you two were in a heated argument over something… Next thing she wanted you to get away… We did see something strange happen though”
Vanna tilted her head in confusion.
“Strange?”
Xand looked to Sage who looked at her leg then at Vanna.
“She looked hurt and wanted you to run… From what we saw she was afraid… That black mist…”
PREVIOUSLY                                                                                         NEXT
0 notes
quackson-th-blog · 6 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chapter II
Eleanor started her day by quietly tiptoeing out of her bed. Creeping to her closet, she slipped on some skinny jeans and a navy floral t-shirt. Heading to her vanity, she began the long process of applying just enough makeup to cover up her dark circles and to add definition to her sage green eyes. Checking her phone, Eleanor notices she got a text from her mother.
Mom: Good luck on your first day! Try not to screw this up for yourself :)
El: Thanks, mom :/
She groans, banging her head on her desk. After reading the text, her ticks began their annoying control. Her left leg began bouncing and her fingers itched to pick her lips.
There was blood running down Eleanor’s chin and her mother scolded the small child. “Ellie, we have talked about this you aren't supposed to pick your lips. They will rot off if you don't stop.” The little girl nodded quickly, “The teacher had me try to recite the adding problems. I messed up and-and the other kids laughed at me. I-I…” Eleanor’s fingers reached back up, rubbing her fingers over her bloody, swollen lips. Her mother cut her off with a deep sigh. “Don’t be a baby, Ellie. Just study harder so you will always be prepared.” Eleanor nodded slowly, lowering her blood-stained fingers to her lap and began to pick at the seams of her flowered jeans. She fought to swallow the tears that wanted to fall out. Eleanor felt like she wasn’t as smart as the other kids and it hurt her heart.
Ever since that day, Eleanor has always worked hard in school. Feeling stupid made her feel like she had no purpose, like she didn’t belong on earth with everyone else. Eleanor always studied twice as hard for half the reward as other kids. She made sure that she would never feel that way again.
“Alright, kids! It’s time for lunch, grab you lunch boxes and head out to the cafeteria.” Eleanor’s first grade teacher announced the kids. Immediately crayons began flying into boxes in a haphazard manner. Eleanor began packing her stuff up neatly, everything had to be in order or Eleanor couldn’t leave. The other kids pushed past Eleanor, making her arm crash into her crayon box. Tears began welling up in her eyes. Now Eleanor would have to arrange them all over again and make her late for lunch. “Eleanor? Can you stay in the classroom for just a minute before lunch?” The teacher asked once the last child had scurried out of the room. “Yeah.” Eleanor sniffled, rushing to place her crayons in the correct order.
The teacher squatted down next to her desk. “What are these, Eleanor?” She asked pointing to the scratches that ran up and down both of her arms. Eleanor looked down at them. They covered the tops of both of her arms and were scabbed up since she had done it a couple days ago. “These are my scratches, Mrs. Daniels.” Eleanor said looking up at her teacher. Mrs. Daniels’ mouth was turned down in a frown as she surveyed the marks. “Are you sure something else didn’t happen to them? Like someone else did it?” Eleanor’s face filled with confusion. “No, Mrs. Daniels. I do them when things feel funny.”
“What do you mean when things feel funny?” Mrs. Daniels’ asked rubbing the little girl’s arms in a reassuring manner. Eleanor shrank back from her teacher and jerked her arm away. “Sometimes I feel funny, so I scratch them. No one else did. I did. Not my mommy, not my daddy, or my brother. Mrs. Daniels, may I go to lunch please?” But, Eleanor had already gotten out of her chair, grabbed her lunch box from her cubby and ran as fast as her little legs would carry her to the lunch room.
Eleanor had forgotten that she started her new job as the general assistant at U of C’s counseling center after the previous decided to take another career path. The top of her phone read the time as 9:36. Not wanting to be late, she hurriedly rolled on some deodorant. Eleanor couldn’t believe that she had forgotten about this. Eleanor also couldn’t be late. She just couldn’t. She feared the worst. What if she got run over? What is she slipped and fell and then she would be late? What if she got fired on her first day? That would be terminal for any chance of her having a career after graduation. Pushing her racing thoughts down, Eleanor finally made it out of the door.
Eleanor’s rhythmic steps calmed her nerves as she sped towards her new place of work. Her eyes watched the creases in the sidewalk. She enjoyed stepping on every crease. It calmed her nerves as she walked. Thousands of question of the possibilities of the outcome of her day started to invade her mind. Mostly ones about getting lost and confusing patients, but yet again, Eleanor pushed them down, refusing to let them dictate her day. She tried to reassure herself that this job would be a good source of network. This would allow her to talk to fellow counselors and get her name out. Eleanor was very school and job oriented. The fear of not getting a degree, job, or boyfriend weighed on her shoulders. What if she cannot get the degree? What if she cannot find a job? What if she never ends up getting a boyfriend? Her outlook of life was very wide and she could never stop to enjoy the moment. Stopping to smell the flowers was never something she believed in. There was always work to be done. Preparation for the future.
The counseling center was small and quaint, most of the funds from the university went to sports, but hey, that decision wasn’t up to Eleanor. Opening the door right at 9:45, she was right on time. Eleanor was thankful that her dorm building was close to the center, with the changing season Chicago would only grow colder and she dreaded the brave walks she would have to make once wintertime hit the town. The office space that was left behind was small. There was the desk with a computer and phone. A large gray filing cabinet and the glass window that looked out to the waiting room. This was her space and she was aloud to decorate it. Ideas flew around her head about possible options. She sat down at the desk and opened the computer looking at the appointment times for today. “Ten...Tom Holland…” Her eyes glanced to the clock. It was 9:48 and felt nervous for him. She believed that if there was an appointment, it was common courtesy that you show up fifteen minutes early. Her heart began to feel anxious for the boy. What if he was late and his counselor moved on the next appointment, and he really needed to see his counselor today? What if he was going to end his life and it could have been saved if he just talked to somebody about it? Her heart began racing for the boy she didn’t even know. In Eleanor’s opinion, the world would be a lot better if people cared for one another. Sometimes, in her dark days, Eleanor would wish that a stranger would care for her the way she did others. Kindness was something that could change someone’s life. Even if only one person, just one person, cared about somebody else, it could change their life. Their choices, their relationships, their feelings could all be changed just by a small kindness. To Eleanor, kindness was a beautiful thing. Eleanor just prayed that the boy would walk in soon. Not just to ease her racing heart and mind, but for the sake that he gets the help that he needs, the boy she doesn’t even know. The small bell above the door dinged and Eleanor jumped at the sound of a clearing throat. She was so deep in her thoughts that the outside world has disappeared for the moments she was trapped in her mind. Eleanor looked up at the boy with the brown hair and the tight lips. Little did she know the impact this boy would leave on her heart.
0 notes