Archive of Our Own

November 1st.

It was the day after the Halloween party at Jake’s. It was one of the most heinous nights of Michael’s life. The night when he lost his best friend for good. The night where he had a panic attack because of the aforementioned best friend. 

Well. Micheal couldn’t really blame Jeremy for all of that, he supposed. Sure, Jeremy leaving him behind in the bathroom was one of the shittest things he could have done, and maybe it did sting when Micheal kept thinking back to what Jeremy said to him. Reverberating and echoing in his head.

“What? Squip got your tongue?” Michael uttered.

“No, it’s off,” Jeremy responded.

‘No, it’s off.’ Michael kept thinking about that.

Everything Jeremy said to him in the bathroom was all of his own volition. Leaving him in the bathroom was his choice. And it stung, it really did. 

Last night sifted around like a fog in his head. Everything was so vivid. Michael was laying in bed all morning. He just can’t find the energy to move, not after last night. Yet after about an hour of idleness, he reached for his phone. Clicking the on button to find nothing but a reflection of himself. 

Right. 

He couldn’t bothered to plug it in last night. God, he just wanted this all to be over, Just wanted some sense of finality to this cruel punchline of a joke he’s been dealt with. His best friend of twelve fucking years left him, alone.

Michael reached from the charger that was thankfully resting on his bed. Plugging his phone in, waiting for the ding. When it did, he opened Twitter to set his mind off things. There was some talk about how Rich set a fire. He didn’t really give a shit. It sounded so crazy it almost felt normal.

Almost. What a dumbass.

He mindlessly scrolled along checking through all of his apps before catching the time in the corner.

9:30 AM.

Michael always slept in on the weekends. It was just something he enjoyed. Crashing on a Friday night after playing hours upon hours of video games with Jeremy. God, Jeremy . Jeremy made him so happy, made him smile when he fell down in the dumps. Brightened his day with that charming grin, and really fucking cute face . But, that was over now. 

A second passes. Then a minute. Then an hour, then 3 hours. Pac-Man music emitted from Michael’s now fully charged phone. He jerked upwards, swiftly turning off the alarm. Guess he didn’t wake up early after all. Michael saw at the time.

1:31 PM

“Fuck.” Almost like clockwork, a voice boomed.

“Michael! We need you to head to the grocery store! I put the list on the counter!” his Nanay yelled, a door slam punctuating the end of her sentence,

“Hugh…” Michael groaned. Michael didn’t mind grocery shopping at all, nearly every Saturday when he woke up, his mothers would ask him to go. It’s just this time that he was not in any kind of mentally sane place to do anything. Yet, his Nanay asked him to and he would. 

Michael lifted himself from his miserable bed, stretching and walking over to his dusty closet. He found his signature hoodie, a white tee-shirt and some jeans, and quickly changed. Not even giving a glance to the abandoned CREEPS shirt crumpled at the floor of the closet.

1:35 PM

Micheal left his room, pacing himself to the kitchen, where a yellow pad of paper and a sum of a hundred and seventy dollars rested. He grabbed both, skimming through the list

• Milk
• Carrots
• Celery
• Strawberries
• Eggs
• Ham

Michael stopped skimming at some point, the mindlessly droning in his head stopping him from thinking any more critically about this grocery list. He decided then and there he’d deal with it at the store. Michael spotted his keys hanging up on the board in the kitchen. He grabbed them, taking comfort in the familiar jingling noise. He unlocked the door, exiting his house. Locking the door before glancing over at his car.

He felt his heart stop. He kept staring at the passenger seat. Jeremy’s seat. 

“Shit…” Michael felt sick. Like something was inside of him, clawing through his organs. He felt his heart rate begin to rise, he quickly turned back inside. Hastily placed his keys on the board.

I’ll just take the bus today. 

He hated this, he hated how Jeremy was everywhere. He hated how Jeremy had infected everything. Everything from his bed, his house, his car. Even the smell of weed reminded Michael of Jeremy and brought that… that horrible feeling with it. 

So, he’d take the bus. He’d take the bus and be completely fine! He’d take the bus, go to the grocery store, then go home. Michael exited his house again, staring directly at the ground. He couldn’t even stand to look at his P.T. Cruiser.

He walked for a bit reaching the bus stop just in time. 

1:45 PM

—

1:50 PM

Michael was on the bus, just trying to avoid any and all eye contact from anyone. The drive was long and monotonous. Michael sat in the far back, window seat obviously. He mostly just stared at, hand at the ready for when he got close to his stop.

They passed the CVS, and Michael went up to reach the string, yanking it down.

“STOP REQUESTED.” A robotic voice resounded.

The bus came to a slow stop, the doors opened. Michael made his way through, noting the small glances of people. He didn’t try to think much about it.

He exited. The bus doors shut with a bit of a clang, as the bus began to drive away. Michael began to walk in the direction of the grocery store. He paused a minute, glancing at the sign. Then the memories started to come back.

Jeremy was fucking everywhere.

Michael’s remembered multiple grocery store trips to this store with Jeremy. When he didn’t want to go alone. So many stupid conversations and memories made in this store.

“Spray on butter?” Jeremy glanced at the bottle, ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter!’ spray.

“You're joking right?” Michael took a glance at the bottle Jeremy was holding, it was indeed, spray on butter. “Oh my god.”

“It’s probably just some kind of cooking spray or something right?” Jeremy reasoned, placing the spray back. 

“Probably? Anyways, I'd much rather have the actual thing, butter from a spray sounds… concerning.” 

“You’re high on the daily Michael.” Jeremy commented, a grin on his face.

“IT'S LEGAL OKAY!” Michael had a bit of a freak out from Jeremy’s smug grin. Jesus why is he so hot?

They spent so much- too much time together. That things like getting groceries, cleaning up around each other's houses just was a thing they’d do.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Michael placed a hand on his forehead. He didn’t feel well. He’d just power through, then sleep for the rest of the day.


2:30 PM

Michael finished grocery shopping, and was waiting for the bus home. He regretted not taking his car, but it was a necessary sacrifice lest he decide to run the damn thing into a tree. 

Not to mention the unspeakable grocery trip filled with him being on the brink of crying in the fucking dairy section. Don’t even get him started on when he started tearing up while picking up some carrots, a little girl saw him wipe his eyes and ask him what’s wrong. 

He ran from the child.

So, here Michael was. Alone, at a bus stop. Just, damn. He wanted to stop wallowing in how sad he was. He wanted to just stop feeling all together. He heard a creaking, screeching noise, and the bus pulled up. He stood up entering.

Michael sat in the back, putting on his headphones. Just blocking out the world.

3:20 PM

Michael got home. He took a short glance at his P.T Cruiser. It didn’t make him feel sick.

That’s a start if any.

He got inside, placed the groceries on the table, and walked to his room. Taking a brief moment to look around. His room was filled with memories about Jeremy. It made him feel sick. Michael just wanted to stop getting reminder, after reminder about this boy. He wanted to stop thinking about him.

Thing was, Michael couldn’t. There was no way to just get over a friendship of 12 years overnight. There was also that other thing Michael had. A crush.

Michael had a crush on Jeremy. He’s had a crush for a long time. He realized at the worst time. In the 7th grade.

“Christine is so pretty?!” Jeremy eagerly spoke.

Michael was having a PB&J at this time. It tasted bad.

“Christine? You mean Christine Canigula?” Michael asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah! She’s just really fun to be around! I got paired up with her in English and she was just… so nice! Knows a lot about Shakespeare too!” Jeremy chimed, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Michael felt his stomach turn. He blamed the sandwich.

“Really? Lucky… I got paired up with Dustin… He didn’t even do anything.” Michael replied, playing with the strings of his hoodie absentmindedly.

“Oh. Sorry.” Jeremy spoke, a bit more quiet.

His stomach felt worse.

“Hey! Don’t apologize.” Jeremy glanced up. “It’s not your fault. Blame my luck for not getting any classes with you.” Michael interjected. Jeremy still had a conflicted expression on his face. Michael didn’t want that. “Talk more about Christine!”

The pain was insufferable.

Jeremy’s face lit up. “Oh! Well… there was this one time in class where she launched into this full on monologue about Shakespeare! Dude she was so passionate and cool? She was just so-“

Michael threw up the PB&J in the bathroom afterwards. He didn’t feel better.

6:28 PM

Michael opened his eyes. A wave of grogginess washed over him. Maybe he should just go back to sleep, not like there was anyone waiting for him.

“Micheal!” His mom yelled, echoing to the basement.

“Here we go. Again.” Michael willed himself out of bed, ignoring how light-headed he felt, ignoring how he felt like the grossest thing in the worst right now. He needed a shower.

He climbed the stairs, opening the door. “Yeah?” Michael didn’t realize how hoarse his voice was. It sounded like sandpaper was pushed against the inside of his throat.

“You, don’t sound well.” His mother pointed out, mindlessly drifting across titles in Netflix.

“Yeah, I know.” Michael replied, there was a bite to his reply, but he didn’t care.

“Mhm, have you considered taking a shower? You look like a mess.” His mother spoke back, voice still soft.

Michael stood there. He didn’t want to take a shower right now. He didn’t want to be in any sort of bathroom right now.

“No.” He mumbled.

She sighed. “...Michael, go take a shower.” His mother found a show, ‘The Good Place’. “You’ll feel better.”

“...Ok.”


6:40 PM

Michael stood outside the bathroom. He didn’t want to go in. He stood there for what felt like forever, debating on just changing his clothes and saying he didn’t feel like showering.

He felt gross though, so gross. The most miserable thing on earth. He wanted to grasp onto some semblance of keeping everything together. Michael took a shaky breath. He grabbed onto the door handle, twisted it, and opened the door.


6:50 PM

Michael left the bathroom, and walked to his room. He was dry, his eyes bloodshot and red. He was still gross.

He fell onto his bed, and cried.

9:00 PM

Michael awoke to a knock at the door, he didn’t have any energy to leave his bed. Simply, the door opened, and Nanay walked in, and sat on the bed.

“How’ve you been?” She asked. Michael glanced up, a distinct smell filling his nose.

“Alright.” Michael wanted to go back to sleep.

“Dinner’s ready, want me to bring it to your room?” She offered.

Michael didn’t want his room to smell, but he also knew that the call of his bed was much greater.

“Uh, yeah. I’d like that.” His Nanay nodded, stopping at the door. “You know you can talk to me about anything right?”

Michael simply nodded. His Nanay left.

A loud gurgling noise erupted from Michael’s stomach. Oh right, he didn’t eat at all today. The noise continued. It was honestly kind of nice in a way. Michael hadn’t felt hungry all day, but his body did. He still didn’t feel hungry, but eating food was better than spending time in the bathroom.

11:55 PM

Michael had numerous tabs open. In his desperate attempt to try and do something productive with the day, he started throwing himself into researching the SQUIP. He scoured through forums and webpages. Even on an organization site, Mom’s Against Squips, he agreed with the message. Nothing about how to deactivate it though. Well, that is until he received a message.

HiPPoDroMe: Mountain Dew Red
Marsh_mellow: ????
HiPPoDroMe: That’s how you deactivate the SQUIP.
HiPPoDroMe: I saw you asking around, that’s how.
Marsh_mellow: how do you know this???
Marsh_mellow: also do you mean code red? Or the stuff from the 90’s
HiPPoDroMe: 90’s stuff.
HiPPoDroMe: also i had a squip, i drank some mountain dew red, shut the thing up.
Marsh_mellow: oh, aight now to find some mt dew red then
HiPPoDroMe: good luck dude
Marsh_mellow: thanks

12:00 AM

Michael was on his, searching through Mountain Dew Red listings, he also contacted his soda dealer at Spencers. Honestly, he’s unsure of what's next. He wanted to get his best friend back. But. Did Jeremy even want him back? Would Jeremy just tell him off again? He wouldn’t blame him, he’s just some desperate boy who’s trying  to save a friendship that’s burned down.

Michael leaned back, glancing at the uneaten food his mom left him.

“I’m doing it for Jeremy.”

At least, that’s what Michael wants to believe.