Chapter Text
Mike felt his legs move before he could even think, his steps so rushed he bumped into 3 people in the process.
The alcohol was starting to wear off on him, leaving nothing but the start of a throbbing headache he would probably feel for hours to come - but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered when Will was in the state he was in.
He swiftly made it from the living room to the kitchen, finding Will sitting comfortably on the limestone floor.
“Will, are you okay?”
“Chillax, I'm fine.” Will looked as though he were stuck in wonderland, less as if he'd just taken a tumble.
“Here, take my hand - I'll help you up.”
“I'm comfy.”
“Take my hand.”
“No.”
“You're on the floor, Will.”
“That I am.” He looked up with a cheesy grin.
The moment you’ve made friends with the floor is the moment you’re officially wasted. Will was 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 wasted.
Mike looked up at Carl pouring himself a glass of water, not even offering it up to the 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 drunk Will who was right beside him. Mike was about to explode.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Carl looked as though he'd just had a slur thrown at him. “Woah there bud - what's this about?”
“What's this 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵? You shoved Will to the ground and now you won't even help him up!”
“I didn't shove him - he lost his balance! Did you see the shit he was downing before?”
“Yeah? Well last time I checked it was you who was downing that shit with him.”
Mike snatched the cup of water out of his hands and crouched down to Will's level.
“Dude, seriously. What the fuck man.”
“FYI, I was in the 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 and managed to help him out first.”
Mike put the water-filled solo cup to Will's lips, helping him chug it down to at least be rid of somewhat of a hangover.
Carl looked down upon them, his eyes narrowing with a look Mike had never seen on him before. “Here, I'll help him up-”
“No. I got it.” Mike grabbed Will's arm and wrapped it over his shoulder, beginning to hoist him up when Carl swooped under his other to do the same.
“Weeeeee,” Will cheered while being launched up, immediately losing his balance and crashing onto Mike’s shoulder. He was having the time of his life, giggling and smiling cheek to cheek, but all Mike could do was worry.
Worry about what made him switch up so abruptly, about his sudden decision to drink to this extent - whether it was deliberate or accidental. Worry about Will running away from him 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦 in one night, about what he might’ve done wrong to prompt him to do so.
He worried why Carl seemed so careless about his partner, who he’s supposed to love and look after, especially with Will being in such a state. Well, not to say they’re 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, but it’s at least common courtesy to look after any of your loved ones if they’re so inebriated that they fail to keep their balance.
I mean, seriously. Mike was using all the strength within him to keep Will upright, clutched onto him, and Carl was already having a conversation with one of his obnoxious friends. Was he scared of showing that level of care in front of these people, or was he genuinely just this much of a jackass?
Suddenly, Mike looked up to spot two antennas poking out amidst the scattered crowd in the living room, moving across the room. He knew who it was before she even came into view, before her face dropped after spotting Will in his arms and changing her trajectory.
El stepped towards them; purse in one hand, cup in the other.
“I was going to tell you that we are leaving soon, but I was 𝘯𝘰𝘵 expecting to see this. What happened?”
“Alcohol is what happened. Can you help me?”
“My hands are full right now, I’ll find Dustin. Just give me a moment!”
Mike felt hopeless. “Wait, what?”
El was already leaving. “I'll be back!” she shouted over the music, back turned away.
He looked down at Will, then up at El again, then back to Will. He leant against the counter to shift some of the weight off of him, not sure of what he should do.
Will suddenly poked his head up, waking back up from the dead again. “Carl?”
Mike fought the desperate urge to roll his eyes. “No, Mike.”
“Awwwh.”
“Yeah, yeah I know.” Mike looked up again, now spotting Carl chatting it up with some random girl in a cowboy costume. “It should be Carl, but it's me.”
“Why is it always you?”
Mike felt stiff, a bit taken aback from what he'd just heard. “What do you mean?”
“Mike! I found Dustin!” El called out from nearby, approaching the kitchen with Dustin's arm sleazily wrapped around her shoulders, clutched onto Will's discarded wings from before.
“The hell happened to him?”
“Alchohol. We 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 go now, Carl's friend has arrived. He seems very urgent.”
“What about helping me?”
“You'll figure it out!” El yelled once again, somehow managing to power through and help Dustin make it out. He knew El had always been strong, but he still couldn't help but be impressed.
“Well, here goes nothing.” Mike held Will firmly with one arm, grunting as he swung Will's arm over his shoulder again to help move him out the kitchen.
He suddenly felt the weight being lifted off his shoulders, Carl simultaneously scooping Will's other arm over to help him instead and using the force to bump Mike off him.
Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with this guy?
After making it out of the building, he spotted Lucas's car on the side of the road with El still helping Dustin move towards it. He quickly ran over to help, feeling bad that she had to move him herself this entire time.
Finally getting him in, he laid down in the backseat rambling about nonsense to Lucas. Max did the same, her and Dustin talking in a drunken language that confused everyone else but could only be understood by them.
“He'll be fine.” El stated as she was already heading back towards their car, surprisingly chirpy for having just sobered up a tad and having to drag Dustin out the door.
They hopped inside the car, making sure everybody's belongings were present, and began their long journey back home.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ ·
El was dropped off with Will, her offering to be the one to look after him since they lived close and she wasn’t scheduled for a shift the next morning.
Mike would sadly be going back with Carl, expected yet still never failed to wear his spirit down just a tad.
They were dropped off close to 2:30am. Early for having just left a party, yet late considering they both had classes tomorrow. 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 late for Mike considering he'd never been the partying type, that it drained his already nonexistent social battery.
Once they made it through the dorm, silence filled the room in an unbearable way. They did their routinely duties, getting ready for bed in the same way they'd always had but with an unspoken energy lying between them.
Mike had always hated Carl's lingering presence, but tonight was the first time he could feel that energy being mutual. Reciprocated. They moved around in a way that made sure they wouldn't cross paths, placing distance between one another as if they were trying to avoid catching the bubonic plague.
It freaked Mike out. He wasn't used to this new energy coming from Carl, it almost felt uncanny. Either that or he was officially losing his mind - not entirely surprising considering the hell of a month he's already had.
But right as he’d made it to the bathroom, Carl finally broke the ice.
“Mike?”
He was using some soap and a rag to scrub Will's masterpiece off his face, feeling oddly guilty in the process. “Yeah?”
“You're close with Will, right?”
Mike turned his head away from the mirror. “I mean, kinda. Lately I haven't seen him much but-”
“Don't lie to me.”
Mike paused in his tracks. Carl's voice was calm, casual, yet felt oddly interrogative. He was out of sight, standing at the further end of the room with his voice coming from near his nightstand.
“I asked you a simple question, are you close with him?”
“Uh… yeah.”
Carl walked into view, not looking at Mike but instead walking near the end of his bed to put his headband on his desk.
“How long have you guys known each other?”
Mike rinsed the rag under warm water. “Preschool.”
Carl turned to look at him. “Huh. I thought Will said you only met each other in High School.”
That wasn't suspicious, right?
It didn't matter, Mike still felt like he was being held at gun point. He couldn’t even muster up a response - how do you even answer something like that?
“Whatever, I'm going to bed. Night brochacho.” Carl turned his desk light off and crashed onto his bed.
Mike was relieved that Carl actually didn't care, that he was probably just asking for stupid fun and not for being annoyed at him calling him out at the party.
Mike finished up in the bathroom, already changed into his pj's and about to hop into bed. He turned his light off, leaving nothing but the orange toned light from the streets outside to spill into the room. He laid on his back at first, then turned away to the wall to get comfortable.
“Oh, Mike?” Carl began again, probably about to ask something stupid like whatever groceries he wanted to pick up.
“Yeah?”
“By the way, you can stop trying to comment on my relationship.”
𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘪𝘵.
“I wasn’t trying to comment on your relationship-”
“You were though.”
Mike just wanted one night, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 where he wouldn’t have to suffer a migraine on behalf of Carl and his bullshit. But no, not even now would he get a moment of peace.
“Ok, maybe I was. Maybe I didn't wanna see you barely give Will any piece of mind when he was camping out on the floor, which was after you 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 him, but whatever. Can I go to sleep now?”
“Sure, okay.”
…
“It would still be better if you could mind your business, though.”
“Oh come on, are we seriously doing this 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸?”
“I just don't understand why you're so concerned, you know. Our thing has nothing to do with you.”
“It does when Will is my best friend.”
“Then why are you acting like that?”
Mike finally twisted his neck around to give him a good look. “Acting like what, Carl?”
“You know what? If you can’t even realize how you're being then maybe it isn't a concern with how you're acting with this and stuff.”
“...What?”
“Just keep your mouth shut about us, okay?”
That's when it hit Mike what Carl might've been on about. This guy was worried about Mike outing him. To who exactly? Mike didn't know, but he didn't want that to be a concern amongst the two of them. He hated his guts, sure, but he wasn’t a villain or anything.
“Look, I'm not gonna go around telling people about you and Will if that's what you're worried about.”
No answer on Carl's side.
“Why don't we just… talk about this tomorrow? My head's kind've spinning and I don't really wanna get into this right now.”
“Sure, goodnight bud.” Carl said casually before turning back around.
“...Okay, well goodnight I guess.”
Mike tried to sleep, but couldn't help but wonder what on earth was running through Carl's mind to get him asking these kinds of questions.
Why was he concerned about how close he was with Will? He kept pressing about his connection with Will and how close the two were, but why did that even matter in the first place?
Unless…
Was this guy jealous or something? Was he insecure of his relationship with Will to the point that he felt a concern about their friendship?
Mike couldn’t help but find the possibility to be hilarious. If that was the case, this guy had absolutely nothing to worry about - he won by a longshot. There wasn’t even any competition in the first place.
Still, the thought nagged at Mike in a way he couldn’t describe. He felt as though he were being put in the middle of something, though to be fair he'd already been poking around far too much. He never trusted Carl or his intentions with Will, and if anything this gave him all the more reason to be weary of him.
He felt something off about him. He wasn’t sure what, but he almost felt as though he were hiding something. A side of him that he didn’t want Mike nor Will to see - there was something that just didn’t feel right in Mike’s gut.
Or again, he could just be going insane.
Mike figured only time could tell. And with that, he tried to ignore the boy that laid across from him and was off to bed.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Mike felt like he was genuinely going to die.
Now, it wasn’t his first rodeo having to deal with the consequences of a night of drinking. Back at his graduation after-party, he was so wasted he could practically hear shapes and see colours; he even wandered so far out that Lucas and El had to conduct a search party to find him.
They eventually found him in a bush mumbling to himself, but that was besides the point.
The point was that he'd discovered the wonders of the so-called “hangover” before, and he felt like he would be better prepared for the future times he'd planned to drink.
Still, it hit him hard. He showed up to his first lecture late and with a pounding sensation in his head, a constant reminder of his refusal to have a snack or a sufficient amount of water the night before.
He felt as though any sudden movement would make him projectile vomit, that feeling intensifying whenever he had to peer up and down from his notebook to the board in front of him.
He could barely even think a single thought without the pressure building up in his head, making him wish he could just turn his mind off and crawl back home where he could scarf down a slice of pizza, free of doubt.
That’s what he planned to do anyway. He stopped by the nearest Domino’s on his way back and intended on binge watching whatever came up on TV (𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘛𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘕𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘢 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴), forcing himself to make his way back home without passing out or puking on the spot.
The worst part however, was how he was scheduled for an evening shift at the café with no way of backing out of it. So, he planned on using his free time in between recharging the most he could.
He dragged his feet across the lobby, one hand gripped onto the stairs railing while keeping the pizza box clutched in the other. But as he swung his door open, he was left with an unexpected surprise.
Will was standing at the back of the room, looking at a figurine Mike had left on his dresser before turning to look back at him.
Mike couldn’t even be enthusiastic to see him. Not that he didn't want to see him, just that he couldn't be happy for anything when he felt this dead.
“If you’re looking for Carl, he’s not gonna be back for another hour.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m not here for Carl.” Will paused for a moment. “You look rough.”
“Yeah, that’s sort’ve the reason why I don’t go drinking often.” Mike rested the pizza box above a pile of books on his desk, then stopped massaging his temple to get a better look at Will. “How do you not look rough?”
“Water. Tons of water. El practically nursed me back to health, I felt so guilty about it that I offered to treat her to brunch before stopping by.”
Despite the migraine Mike was fighting through, a smile crept up on his face. “Let me guess… she ordered waffles?”
“Ding ding ding.” Will smiled back. And for a second, there was a nice moment between the two of them.
A dingy lightbulb went off in Mike's head. “Shit, you had your exam today.”
“𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 even get me started. They made us work with clay.”
“Ew. Don’t you hate clay?”
Will was already seated on Mike’s bed, easy for him to settle down into the environment since it came natural to them.
“Not the same as paint. At least you’re working with a brush when painting, clay is just… messy. Even with sculpting tools, you have to scrub the residue off your hands later - it even gets under your nails and stuff.” Will looked genuinely repulsed just thinking about it, Mike felt repulsed for him.
“You think you did good at least?”
“I hope so. Then again my teacher's kind've a strict grader…”
Mike walked over to his nightstand, tossing his possessions onto the counter. “Will, trust me. I know you did good.”
In return, Will just shrugged pitifully.
“So, what did you stop by for?”
Will appeared deep in thought, as if he were trying to find the words for what he wanted to say. It worried Mike, something felt off.
“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.”
Mike was taken aback. “Wait, that's what you're here for?”
“I ran out on you like, twice. Then you had to carry me around like a ragdoll by the end of the night, and I was just being such a hassle.”
Mike sat down beside him.
“Will, you don't have to be sorry for any of that. It was a party, the night was busy. You drank a little too much, so what? That doesn’t mean you were being a hassle.”
Will remained hesitant, eyes glued to the floor. “I'm also sorry for what I said...”
He struggled to get the words out, as if he were second guessing bringing it up.
“During truth or dare.”
Mike just stared blankly in response. It's not like he didn't know what he was referring to, he'd just never thought that it affected Will to the point where he felt the need to go out of his way to apologize - in person at that.
“What's there to be sorry about?”
“I just… hope I didn't freak you out or anything.”
“Why would it freak me out?” Mike reached over to the side, picking up the small box of pizza he'd left on the table to take a piece. “It was a dare. Besides, it's process of elimination.”
Will looked up at him. “It was a truth, but whatever.”
“Oh come on, you get my point. Max and Lucas are a no because that would be awkward, Dustin is off the table because Stacey would toss you in a ditch, and El is just out of the question because-”
“𝘋𝘶𝘩.” Will replied.
Mike took a bite of his slice, 2 small pieces of pepperoni falling down in the process. Will chuckled in response, reaching for a slice of his own.
“I mean yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I'm always right.”
There was a silence on Will’s behalf.
“What?”
Will laughed. “Sure, okay.”
The two continued eating their pizzas in peace, being able to just sit back and relax for a moment.
“I don't know why I was so worried. I mean, lately I've just felt…”
“Crazy? Like you’re losing your mind?”
Will took another bite of the pizza. “Yeah.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
“School has just felt so… exhausting. I love my classes, I love what I'm learning and the experience I've gained from it, but it's also just been suffocating.”
As horrible as it felt to think, Mike couldn’t help but feel glad that Will was opening up to him. It felt like they were back to normal, when they could talk for hours upon hours and there wasn’t this new, foreign energy that was plaguing them from getting honest opportunities like this.
He missed this, missed being able to hear Will complain about even the mundane things.
“The city in general has been suffocating. Lovely, but suffocating. I just feel like I'm still trying to adapt to everything but I'm not there yet, and I'm stuck in that awkward phase of trying to get used to it all but it just… makes me miss the simplicity of home sometimes.”
Will shifted his focus back to the pizza box sitting between them. “Did you bring any dipping sauce?”
Mike needed a moment to snap out of it. “No, I forgot. Honestly I just wanted to get out of the place as soon as possible.”
A look of guilt came over Will's face. “Shit, I've been rambling this whole time and you're still in zombie mode. Are you ok?”
Mike was already finishing up his slice, gnawing at whatever sauce remained at the edge of the crust. “Never been better.”
Despite trying to seem reassuring, the place still fell silent for a moment. Mike took note of this.
“Look. If it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one who feels all discombobulated. I showed up late to class today, and I have a shift later down at the café. Plus, I still gotta finish a rough draft by tomorrow morning or else I'm gonna get chewed up by that bald professor I got for my proofreading class.”
“Yikes. The one with coffee breath who keeps complaining about his wife?”
“Bingo.” Mike scooped up slice number two (or three, thanks to Will) and sighed as he dreaded being so busy when he still felt so ill.
In an odd way though, talking to Will almost felt like a remedy. His company felt soothing, familiar. Better than what Tylenol or any other medicine could give him.
“You’ll be alright though.”
Will plucked a piece of burnt pepperoni off his slice. “I know, but I still can't help but worry sometimes.”
“Will, I've seen you levitate things and snap limbs all with your 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. You're practically invincible, I don't think you give yourself enough credit for the strength you have.”
Will laughed to himself. “I don't have powers anymore, Mike. I only channeled them through something else and that was like, 2 years ago.”
“See? What did I just say? You're underestimating yourself - and for what? You've killed multiple demos all at once. Three, to be exact. You've been burned like a piece of toast, possessed, kidnapped, chased after, and even been under the claws of Satan himself.”
“Please, don't remind me.”
“My point is that considering all you've been through, I 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 you can handle being in a new city. Art school is gonna be a piece of cake compared to the other things you've conquered.”
Will smiled in a way that Mike loved to see, especially when he resembled a sick puppy only 5 minutes prior. “I guess I could.”
“You will. Trust me.”
Mike still felt the excruciating sickness washing over him, but the greasy food accompanied by Will’s presence made existing feel a little more tolerable, even if just for a moment.
“You wanna watch TV?”
Will smiled, which was the only answer Mike needed to grab the remote.
He started flicking through the channels, passing by boring News coverage and random cartoons he'd never seen before. He eventually landed on Full House; not his personal favorite, but one that reminded him of home since it was Holly's favorite that she'd put on often.
They watched as they continued munching, backs leant against the wall as they faced the TV between both the beds. It sat just underneath the window with warm sunlight creeping in through the blinds, leaving the two to bask in the warmth.
Will turned his head to look at Mike. “You know when Carl gets back?”
Mike peeked over to the alarm clock on his nightstand.
“About an hour.”
“I just wanted to talk about some things with him, that's all.”
Mike still felt paranoid about Carl, especially with him going all Sherlock Holmes with him the night before.
“Are you guys okay?”
“Yeah. Generally speaking.”
The thought of his brief conversation came to mind, his bizarre behavior continuing to rub under his skin the wrong way.
And for once, Mike felt uneasy about staying silent.
“By the way, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
It was probably best to put it to rest, but something in him had to confide in Will about the situation. It might not have been the wisest choice, but he wanted to get it off his chest and see what he’d have to say about it. And probably give him a bit of a warning, too.
“Sure, what about?”
“Well…”
And just like that, the door barged open with Carl waltzing through as if he weren’t just about to get dragged to filth.
“Hey, Will… whatcha doing here?”
Speak of the devil.
“Carl? I thought you weren’t gonna be back for another hour.” Mike said in a regular voice, his eyes doing all the talking as he stared right at him.
Carl halted in his tracks. “Woah. Mike… you look like shit, dude.”
Mike gave him a flat smile in return, which was all he could do with this idiot stating the obvious.
Carl continued: “Well, my lecture ended early. Teacher had a family emergency or whatever, so I came back to chill for a bit.” He approached the two, slumping down on his bed across the duo.
Mike and Will turned to look at one another in response without even meaning to, then looked away as if they were getting caught red handed.
In a bizarre way, it almost reminded Mike of when Hopper would barge in on him and El. He felt the same tinge of underlying fear, feeling as though they were being intruded on or that he was about to get caught.
It was an odd connection to be made, but he didn't have the mental capacity to question it - 𝘯𝘰𝘵 at a time like this.
“So… what’s going on with you guys?” Carl asked before reaching over to steal the last slice from the Domino’s box. It filled him with nothing but pure rage, if he were being honest.
“Nothing much. I did my exam, though I barely pulled through in time,” Will answered.
“Ohh right, the art exam-thingy. I forgot you had that.” Carl said as he went to town on that pizza slice, the loud sounds of him chewing filling out the awkward silence within the room. Mike felt his appetite slowly but surely fading away.
“Yeah, well I mentioned it to you like a hundred times.”
“Really? My bad, must’ve forgotten.”
Will didn’t even say anything in return, just continued eating in silence with a slightly annoyed look on his face that only Mike picked up on.
Carl then asked through each chew: “What about you Mike?”
Alas, the spotlight always fell back onto him. “Well, I feel like shit and look like shit according to you.”
A painful silence filled the room.
“But other than that, life's pretty good I guess.”
“That’s… that’s cool man. Great to hear.”
Fake. This guy was just so full of shit, it made Mike want to puke. More than he already did, at least.
“So, what are we watching?” Carl asked as he honed in on the screen, Will giving him a brief summary of the episode so far and what was about to go down.
The three sat there eating pizza, the noise around Mike beginning to fade away as he started getting in his own head. He couldn’t care less what was happening on that screen; all he could focus on was everybody in the room, and 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 on Carl.
He wasn’t sure what he was getting at the night before, but all he knew was that something was off. Way off. Will wanting to speak with Carl about something and acting super reserved about it? Nothing good about that. Then it happened again when he forgot about his test.
Even if Will wanted to talk to him about something stupid, Mike just knew that there was something up with Will. He could sense it in his tone, his eyes, his body language, everything. Will was his best friend, he knew him better than he even knew himself at times - and vice versa.
If anything, it made Mike hate Carl even more. The only thing keeping him okay in Mike’s book was that he supposedly treated Will super well, but if that was toast then he didn’t know what to do anymore. Even if Carl wasn’t super cryptic and hated Mike’s guts in an outspoken way, he could find a way to tolerate it if it meant seeing his best friend in a healthy, loving relationship. The minute he starts making Will upset however, would be the minute Mike would stop holding back.
But there was nothing he could do now.
He knew something was off ever since the party, but he had nothing concrete to put against Carl. Will hasn’t confided in him about anything either, so this was nothing but pure intuition and theory.
So, Mike sat there and ate the last few bits of his pizza, painfully aware of the two individuals seated next to him. They watched TV until Carl had to leave for his next lecture, until Will had to run some errands, until Mike had to prepare for his shift at the café.
Carl and him hadn't had a further conversation either. Either Carl had the memory of a guppie and already forgot, or he wanted to ignore the elephant in the room just as Mike did.
But if the opportunity ever presented itself to Mike, and the time called for it; he swore that he would beat his ass, one way or another.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
A day had passed and he was doing better physically, yet Mike’s thoughts only seemed to get worse.
The only way he could spew it out was talking on the phone with Dustin, but he began to feel as though he were harassing him with all the details spiraling in his brain.
“He’s a jerk.”
“Mike, don’t be so dramatic. He was only giving him a playful shove, I don’t think it was deliberate.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have let that happen. I was across the room and got to Will quicker than he did.”
“Cause you’re always freaked out about him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything bad by it! It’s sweet, y'know. You guys have been best friends since like, the dawn of time.”
“Anyways, I’m just saying - I don’t know - that the guy who’s an 𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 should’ve had quick enough reflexes to catch him or something.”
Mike grabbed onto a piece of trash that was left on his nightstand, balancing the phone on his shoulder, and aimed for the bin across the room.
He missed.
“Shit.”
“What? You okay man?”
“Nothing. I don’t know, I feel like this is crazy. Like I 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺.”
“Hey, you said it. Not me.”
Mike sighed into the phone, flopping back down onto his bed in frustration.
Dustin carried on: “I thought the guy was nice though. We even got to talking - did you know he collects trading cards?”
“I don't give a shit about his stupid cards!” He's a moron!”
“... Yikes. I touched a nerve there.”
"No, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get snappy, I just…”
“You just…?”
“I wish I could take those 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 cards and shove them right up his-”
And at that moment, something else across the room caught his eye.
Either his eyes deceived him, or he was looking at a tube of lipstick standing tall on Carl’s dresser.
“I gotta go.”
“Wait, wha-” 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗣. Mike hung up with his eyes still glued to that thing across the room.
He got up gradually, approaching it with caution as if it were some wild animal that would pounce up to attack him.
It just stood there. Something so small, yet so… confusing.
Mike muttered ‘𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬?’ under his breath.
Picking it up, he observed it to the best of his ability as if he were making a new scientific discovery. He noted every detail he could, trying to come up with a hypothesis with one as clear as day coming to mind.
He might have just found the evidence he needed.
He just needed to investigate.