Chapter Text
Micheal sat at his desk, looking out the window at the grim early morning. He sighed, taking in the reality of the day. He couldn’t find any sort of excitement in his heart, there was only a dull ache, a longing to never have to leave his room. In an hour or so, he would meet a lord and the very next day they would be married. A complete stranger. He would be marrying a complete stranger.
He knew that his parents were completely elated at the prospect. This marriage would be advantageous, or so they told him. He supposed it must be, he would become a Lord. Although, for the life of him he could not muster any idea as to how this would make his life better in any way. They were comfortable, rich even. He was happy to sit at his desk and write story after story until his mind couldn’t make out what was real and what was fiction.
He was doing just this now, he putting his worrying thoughts to the side and picking up his quill to write. His journal was full of little stories and ideas, ink across nearly every page. At this moment, he was writing a story about a butterfly. This butterfly was perfectly happy. She would fly from flower to flower soaking up the sweet nectar and then simply glide along until one day a man trapped her under glass. He kept her there for years and years and years. Micheal didn't know how it would end quite yet.
Not long after the quill hit the paper, his mother began calling him from downstairs. He sighed once again, pulled himself up and made his way down to the street.. He began wringing his hands as his mother and father ushered him into the carriage.
“What a wonderful day! Can you believe it, Micheal?” said his mother, Karen, as she adjusted his tie and smoothed out his hair. Mike didn’t dare speak, he wasn’t sure what to say. He thought he might throw up if he opened his mouth.
“Answer your mother son,” said his father, lazily sticking a hand out to signal the driver to move forward. Mike swallowed the lump in his throat.
“I can’t believe it,” He finally replied, as the carriage stopped next to the Byers estate. It was only right across the square, he had no clue as to why they even took the carriage.
“Alright, everyone remember to be on your very next behavior. Remember we are Wheelers! We are just as good as these Byers.” His mother began fussing with his hair again as they stepped out of the car. He waved her hand away, his melancholy beginning to present itself as annoyance with everyone around him. He looked up at the looming house and his breath caught in his throat. He had seen this house a million times before but in this very moment he finally realized how utterly glum the entire retched thing was. He was definitely going to be sick.
William Byers sat in front of his vanity. His mother was fastening his cufflinks and buttoning his collar and had a small smile on her face as she did so. Will had always noticed how his mother smiled around him, but today there was something different in the creases of it. She was hopeful. He couldn’t even bring his lips to anything but lay flat and defeated.
His face looked wrong. He stared at it in the mirror, every part of it felt sharp today, no softness at all. Maybe it was the fear, he was sure his heart hadn’t stopped racing since he had woken up. He had so many questions on his mind, but only one that seemed worth asking.
“What if Micheal and I don’t… like each other?” He asked his mother as she lovingly styled his hair. She took in a breath, the answer on her tongue. A sharp laugh interrupted her before she could begin.
“As if that has anything to do with it.” His father was standing in the doorway, a stern scowl creeping down on him. “Your mother and I don’t like each other, never have. Get that foolish idea out of your head. Fix his face, he looks like a ghost. No one would want to marry a ghastly boy.” With that, his father walked away leaving Will more ‘ghastly’ than before. His father always did that to him, made it all worse, made all the voices in his head worse. He was sure Micheal would hate him, refuse to marry him, and leave him at the altar.
“Don’t you worry about a word he says. He’s going to love you,” His mother reassured him, rubbing his cheeks to get some of his color back. “Ghastly or not.” His lips twitched slightly at this, but not enough. He wanted his mothers words to fix it all, to make him feel like it would all be okay. The fear pounding in his chest just wouldn’t let up. She could tell that this hadn’t quite done the trick and she planted a kiss on his forehead and then looked into his eyes. “I decided a long time ago that your father does not love me because he is not capable of it, not because I am not worthy of it. You are much more like me than you are like your father and I know that no matter what, you are worthy of love. There are not many in this world that I could imagine would not love you just as I do. I am certain that Micheal will adore you, and I hope that you will love him just the same.”
“Thank you, mother,” He said, embracing her and letting out a puff of air he hadn’t even known he was holding in.
“And even so, I am not unlucky in the slightest. I may be married to him, but I have you and you are the best gift in all the world. I would trade his love for yours on any day.” She released herself from the embrace and stood, smiling like the sun. “I have to go greet the Wheelers, you may come down whenever you feel ready to meet him.”
Then she left, leaving him to sit and stare at himself. When he looked back in the mirror, he saw himself again. There was color in his cheeks and a softness to his features. She always knew how to cheer him up. He stopped looking at his own reflection and instead stood, breathing in and out. He was building up his own courage and soon enough, he felt ready. Not only that, he felt brave.
Micheal’s mother rang the doorbell and he felt absolutely paralyzed. She continued to fuss with his collar even as the doors were opening, he was sure that couldn’t have been a good look for them. His mother laughed lightly and they stepped in, ushered by the butler. She immediately began gushing about the wonderful home, laying it on thick. He looked around, thinking that the inside was even more miserable than the outside.
They were ushered to the grand staircase where Lord and Lady Byers stood. Lord Byers was standing absolutely still and sneering at them, an air of menace surrounded him and his impeccable hair. Mike couldn’t look at him for very long without feeling as though he was about to be murdered. Lady Byers on the other hand was the complete opposite. She radiated warmth and kindness, her chocolate hair tied into a lovely bun complemented by her pink cheeks. She was utterly beautiful, every line and crease creating the picture of pure good. He almost smiled looking at her. He instantaneously began hoping that her son had somehow received only her qualities and none of her husbands.
The butler introduced them to each other and before anyone else could say a word, his father made an idiotic joke about Lady Wheeler looking extremely young. She didn’t seem to bat an eye at it, but rather leaned over to remind her husband to smile. Lord Byers couldn’t seem to muster it, his scowl just turned to grimace. Mike couldn’t imagine why this marriage had been set up. While his family was elated, it seemed Lord Byers was hardly containing his upset at the situation. He had been wondering about this for a while. Why would members of the aristocracy want their eldest son to wed the son of a wealthy fish merchant? It didn’t make any sense to him.
“Well, let’s take tea in the west drawing room. You can follow me down here,” Lady Byers led his parents down a hallway and the door was shut before Mike had even begun to move. He was left alone with his thoughts. Today was the wedding rehearsal, that is why they were finally meeting but the marriage had been set up weeks ago. He thought he had made his peace with it but standing there now, he felt like his world was crashing in on him. He had never even spoken to William, never even seen a portrait of him. He had no idea who he would be giving a ring to today and he was terrified. What if they hated each other?
These thoughts kept swarming in his head as he paced about the space. He stopped suddenly when he spotted a piano in the corner. There was a small vase on top of it, containing a single branch of flowers. That's what he needed, he needed to get his hands moving, he needed to think about something else. He stood in front of the piano, taping a few keys, testing the volume. Then he sat and like a second nature he began playing. It was a haunting melody and it felt ever so fitting for his current situation. He got lost in it, hands moving almost on their own. He had played it a million times and yet he had never felt it like he did now. Never understood it quite so well as he was at this moment. He supposed that's why he didn’t hear him come down the stairs.
He wasn’t sure how long William had been standing there when he turned his head and saw him. Mike shot up the moment he caught sight of him making the piano bench slam to the ground and he had to catch the vase to keep it from falling.
“Do forgive me,” Mike said, words coming out quiet and whispered. The man in front of him was like no other he had ever seen. He was a delicate beauty, soft lips and jaw, dark beauty marks that contrasted against his skin making the color stand out, and those eyes. There was nothing else like those eyes, so large and full of soul boring deep into him. He was wearing a dark red suit with light red stripes that made his skin look like porcelain. Mike felt his breath catch.
“You play beautifully,” said William, his voice deep and matching the quiet tone of Mike’s. He had a smile playing on his lips.
“I-I do apologize, how rude of me to- well… excuse me.” Mike couldn’t seem to finish a sentence. He was nervous, more nervous than he had ever been. He leaned down to pick up the piano bench.
“My father won’t let me near the piano, music is improper for a young man. Too passionate he says.” William said things casually, as if he wasn’t standing in front of a stranger he was forced to marry. Mike was subtly aware that they were alone.
“If I may, Mr. Byers, where is your chaperone?”
“Maybe in view of the circumstances, you could call me William, even Will if you’d want to.” Mike felt breathless.
“Yes, of course… Will?”
“Yes, Micheal?” He liked the way his name sounded when Will said it. It was in some way, different to how he had ever heard it in all his life.
“T-tommorow we are to be mmm… mm-”
“Married,” Will finished for him.
“Yes, married.”
“Since I was a child, I’ve dreamt of my wedding day.” Will sat on the piano bench, letting his fingers gloss over the keys. “I always hoped to find someone I was deeply in love with. Someone to spend the rest of my life with. Silly isn’t it?” Mike felt entranced by his speaking, like he didn’t want it to stop.
“Yes.. silly… No! No, not at all!” After realizing his mistake, Mike joined him on the bench, leaning over onto the piano. In his hastiness, he knocked over the vase. He hurriedly put it back upright and stood up in surprise. Will simply picked up the branch of blossoms.
“I’m sorry, I-” Will was standing up next to him, holding the branch out for him to take. But Mike didn’t look at the branch, he looked at Will and Will looked right back. They smiled, simply looking at each other for a moment. His heart softened in his chest and he wanted nothing more but to look into Will’s eyes for a long time, maybe even forever.
Just as Mike reached out and grabbed the branch, Lord Byers marched into the room.
“What impropriety is this? You shouldn’t be alone together!” His voice boomed through the foyer, nearly making Mike jump. Lord Byers just stood there fuming for a few seconds, Mike thought he might punch him or something. Instead, he turned away and walked back to the drawing room seemingly just as furious. “You’re nearly late for the rehearsal, the pastor is waiting.”