Chapter Text
"Look, Michael, I-" Michael cut him off, fuming.
"Why won't you FUCKING apologize, huh? Or have you forgotten leaving me alone when I tried to help you, tried to save your life, and you brushed me off like I was trash. 12 YEARS, Jeremiah. 12 years of friendship and-"
"So it's Jeremiah now? Not Jer? Not even Jeremy?" Jeremy shot back, quickly glancing away from his laptop for a second to look at something off-screen.
"No fucking shit it isn't. It hasn't been since you ignored me for months-"
"That wasn't me! That was all the SQUIP!"
"Funny, I remember you pretty clearly giving the command to block me out of your vision. And I remember you telling me pretty clearly to get out of your way, Loser in Jake's bathroom. Was that the SQUIP?"
"Yes- It was-"
"It was off. And you still said what you said." Michael added.
"What were my options? It'd turn back on as soon as the alcohol was out of my system- Micha, I apologized at the fucking play." Okay, no. That's not-- Michael exhaled quickly in frustration as he formed his response.
"Oh, so now it wasn't me having to insist you apologize? It was you breaking down tearfully onstage, asking my forgiveness for blocking me out of your life, while everyone wiped away silent tears for the sincerity of it?" A little harsh, but... it felt good to say.
"Seems like that's what you wanted, clearly."
"I WANTED my friend back! Dude. I missed my player two. A lot." Okay, maybe going about it more sweetly would be better?
"AND THAT'S ALL I WAS TO YOU, YOUR PLAYER TWO. You couldn't be cool, but you'd always have someone to be cooler than. Me to be cooler than. You're just jealous I don't need you anymore." Jeremy almost shouted at Michael's image on his screen.
"You know what? I-" Wish I'd never tracked down that Mountain Dew Red for you after the Halloween party. I wish I'd stayed at home, burning our memories of twelve years of friendship and ignored your dad. Michael wanted to say it, but he hesitated. He couldn't. As stupid as emotions were, as stupid as holding on to this failing friendship was, he couldn't lose it just because he was pissed. "I don't regret what I said in Jake's bathroom. I could've said it nicer, but you needed to hear it." Okay, Michael... Should Not Have Said That. Okay. He could find a way to take it back-
"Me neither."
Michael wasn't gonna cry. Don't cry don't cry don't cry- just- He impulsively flipped his laptop shut with a quiet thwip. His phone buzzed. It was probably Jeremy giving some tearful apology now that he was out of the heat of the moment. Another buzz. Probably saying he didn't actually mean it or something. Another. He'll deal with that in the morning. He still has Rich, they became close friends since the SQUIPocalypse, as Rich likes to call it. Jenna, too.
He barely registered the fourth buzz. Geez, he's persistent.
A bit of an odd trio, the three of them but they'd clicked. Much better friends and he hadn't become friends with them by lying and cheating and hurting the people he loves like some assho- Michael yawned and leaned back in the chair in front of his laptop, the late hour and his tiredness and anger crescendo-ing in one thought:
I hope that fake life crumbles around you, bastard.
--
He woke up the next morning still in the swivel chair at his desk in the basement. Shit, his back was gonna hurt. Even more wonderful, he'd never changed out of his binder. Double back problems, yay!
Michael considered not checking the message, he really did. Not giving Jer- emy the satisfaction of even knowing his message was read. He continued this argument with himself while fixing breakfast, and by the time he had a slightly burnt mess somewhat resembling scrambled eggs and toast, he was ready to check his texts.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I heard what happened with you and Jeremy. A pity, really.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I could help you get him back.
UNKOWN NUMBER: Or get back at him.