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"Ian, remember my birthday is next week."
"Yeah, yeah I know Mick, you keep reminding me everyday."
"Okay but I want a party."
"I can invite some friends over? I know you don't know many people?"
"That sounds perfect."
"My birthday's in a few days Ian."
"I know Mickey, you only reminded me a few hours ago."
"Just hoping you remember."
"Mick this year will be different, I promise. Your family might not remember, but I will."
"Okay Ian, I trust you."
"Ian?"
"Hmmm?"
"My birthday's tomorrow."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Did you invite your friends dumbass?"
"Yes I did Mick and they are all excited."
"Really?"
"Yes, Mick they can't wait for your birthday party."
"Thank you Ian, I love you."
Mickey woke up early the next morning, body already buzzing with energy. It usually took the Milkovich boy a few hours to wake up properly, but today he was racing to go. He was having his first ever birthday party, with the help from his new boyfriend.
He sat up on his bed and checked his phone. Huh, he thought, no messages yet, Ian must be planning something big then. He jumped out and ran down into the kitchen. Birthdays were normally not celebrated in the Milkovich household, their parents were usually working all day and all his siblings had school, so Mickey wasn't expecting much. And his suspicions were met when he inspected the downstairs rooms and noticed not a single present. Tonight I'll get presents though, Mickey excitedly thought, with all of Ian's friends coming, it's going to be a big party. Ian was one of the most liked boys at their high school and was always surrounded by friends during classes and breaks, and Mickey was excited to be introduced to so many new people tonight.
This year, fortunately his birthday fell on a Saturday, so he had the whole day to get his house ready and prepared for the party. His parents and siblings were still out of sight a few hours into Mickey's decorating, but he didn't take too much notice. His thoughts were to preoccupied with making everything perfect, hanging streamers he had bought a week ago in a neat pattern, blowing up the balloons he collected a few days ago, cleaning the house spotless. This was going to be the best 16th birthday anyone in the neighborhood had seen.
After Mickey finished hanging the last streamer, he checked the time. Only a couple hours, he noticed, but still no messages. Mickey tried not dwell on the fact that his new boyfriend still hadn't wished him a good day, but it did deflate his mood. He decided to have a shower and get dressed then, making himself ready just in case any guests came early, he still wasn't sure what the normal party etiquette was, but better to be safe than sorry, he concluded.
Eagerly watching the seconds click over on the old grandfather clock in the hall, Mickey squealed when 7pm hit. The food was ready, music was pumping and all Mickey needed now were guests.
After five minutes, Mickey decided that he probably looked too eager standing at the doorway. He moved into the lounge room so he still had a clear view of the door.
After 20 minutes, Mickey decided to call Ian. The phone rang and rang and ended with Ian's voice mail message.
After 40 minutes, Mickey tried again. But again he was sent to voicemail. Now Mickey was getting nervous. What if no one shows up?
After 90 minutes he heard someone knock on the door. Mickey leaped off the couch and ran towards the front door, ready to greet his new friends - "Mandy?" He was nervous seeing his sister, they hadn't spoken to each other for a few days, after Ian had broken up with her and dropped the bombshell of his and Mickey's relationship all in the span of 5 minutes. She hadn't cried in front of the boys, but Mickey heard her later that night sobbing in her room. After that night, Mandy had been avoiding both Mickey and Ian.
"Yep," she replied pushing past roughly into the house, "I forgot my fucking keys." She walked down the hall and turned into the kitchen, "You having a party with yourself?" She called out.
Mickey followed her, "no, people were invited," Mickey explained, "they just haven't come yet."
Mandy laughed in Mickey's face, "yeah why the fuck would they come here? There's a cooler party happening tonight dipshit."
"Wait, what?" Mickey asked surprised. Ian hadn't mentioned another party, and Mickey was sure Ian got invited to every party anyone from their school held.
"Yeah everyone's been invited," Mandy explained, "well everyone but you I guess." And with that she gave a wicked grin.
"Shit," Mickey felt cry baby tears forming.
Mandy stared at him for a few moments before spitting out, "karma's a bitch. You steal my boyfriend, and you get no fucking friends." She flaunted away upstairs to presumably get ready for the party herself.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Mickey continued to repeat to himself, his voice raising with each swear, "shit, shit, SHIT, SHIT!" He grabbed a streamer from above his head and ripped it down, "I'm so fucking shit!" He screamed as he squashed a balloon between his hands, "I'm so fucking dumb." He walked towards the kitchen bench and pulled out a large knife, "So fucking stupid," he yelled while he began popping all the balloons, stabbing each and every one. Mickey's body was red with rage as he continued stabbing until there were no more balloons left downstairs, but it wasn't enough. He dropped the knife on the floor and began pulling each of the streamers down, not worrying about the mess one bit. He screamed as he grabbed each one and ripped them into small shreds. But he still wasn't satisfied.
Mickey focused now onto the plates of food he had neatly presented only a few hours ago and smiled at his new idea. He moved to the closest plate, piled high with chocolate chip cookies. Picking one up, he studied it in his hand for a moment before hauling it into the wall opposite him with all the force he could. It smashed easily into hundreds of little crumbs. Mickey followed that one quickly, smashing every cookie in the same way. Then he moved onto the cut up fruits. Watermelon chunks, orange slices and strawberries met the same fate against the wall. Mickey was laughing loudly now getting a lot of anger and feelings out this way. But his body was still buzzing from the anger.Crisps, chocolates and lollies all endured the same beating until the only thing left on the table was the double chocolate layered cake. Mickey had spent most of yesterday baking it and he was very proud of his work. He had been so excited for all his guests to eat it and praise him for his work, but now all Mickey felt was embarrassment from how hard he worked on something no one would try. Not even thinking about, Mickey grabbed the plate under the cake and threw it towards the same wall the rest of his snacks had hit. He watched the cake mush against the wall, the layers of frosting keeping it stuck momentarily before it slide down onto the floor. Well that was shit, he angrily thought before he heard the plate smash on the ground. But that wasn't.
Another idea formed in his mind. He was too clouded by his anger to worry about the consequences before he threw plate after plate against the wall now. The satisfying crashes allowed Mickey to feel calmer and after throwing all the plates from the table, he was significantly mellowed. It wasn't until he looked around at his surrounding that he noticed his vision was blurry. He rubbed his eyes quickly then surveyed the damage. There was food everywhere on the floor, smashed pieces of plates littered around as well. Colorful pieces of paper and rubber added different shades to Mickey's mess.
"Fuck," he thought out loud, "what have I done?" Mickey felt panic rise up his body as he thoughts turned to what his dad would say looking at this mess. "Fuck, I fucked up again." Mickey quickly ran out of the room, out the front door and began walking along the streets no where in particular to clear his head.