Chapter Text
May 2024
Mike huffs a sigh and rolls his eyes as he starts the car that evening. Work ran late and he was already in a bad mood, his wife, Angela(and no, not the one from California) had called him earlier to rant nonsense about their kids’ school states. Something about how one was skipping, another was failing, some rando bullshit that Mike really didn't feel like caring about.
Maybe that's why it hit so hard. That's why it felt like Mike got run over by a truck. But it also might just be how long he's festered over this.
The radio blares a song. Mike doesn't recognize it. Must be a new one. He thinks to himself as the lyrics catch up to him and he almost runs a red. To say he slammed the breaks was an understatement.
What. Mike shakes as he turns to stare into the radio, looking for the song name.
…
Good… Luck…. Babe… Good Luck, Babe!
Maybe it's just the long day… but his chest feels weird, and he's reminded of Will for some odd reason.
Will!
He promised to call Will today!
He fumbles with his phone as the light turns green. Shit! Shit! Shit! He's gonna be so mad. Mike had been so wrapped up with finishing this large project at his boring regular office job he had totally forgotten to even take the lunch break he'd promised he'd call Will on.
His car screeches to a halt in his driveway and he quickly logs in the password to his phone. One one zero six…. Zero five twenty two. Will is, of course, in his recents.
“Will! Hey, I'm SO sorry I didn't call. I had a busy day at work…” his voice trails off, he knows the other man will be mad. And he is. Will gives him silence.
A good 10 seconds.
“Will?”
The voice that comes through the phone oozes with anger. “What the hell Mike?!? I don’t really hear from you for years and then when we finally reconnect you don't even put the effort in? ‘Bad day at work’?? That is the lamest laziest excuse I've ever heard." He can hear Will's annoyed laugh as he continues to sit in his car.
“Will-I… Im sorry” his voice enters that soft tone that he rarely uses on anybody else but Will. “youre right. I was being a dick. But I'm not the one that didn't call. You were my BEST friend Will… neither of us really tried to keep in touch after college I guess- I guess I just was a little hurt.” he waits. Mike has never been the best at figuring out what he wants, needs, thinks, or feels. Especially when it came to Will.
“Its been 30 years. 30. You're still salty about that?”
Maybe he is. Why does it matter? Why is it so bad to be mad that you and your best friend ever grew apart?
“I-”
Mike doesn't really know what to say, the words of the song replay in his head. Ugh! Why now? Why must he remember them at this exact moment?
“I wrote about you…” Mike claps a hand over his mouth. There is no way he just said that out loud.
Will laughs, "I'm still waiting to get a call about you finally publishing a book…” that might never happen. They're both already in their 50s, married and ‘happy’. Married. Mike winces. He always forgets about Will’s husband and even his own wife. And just as the thought comes, Mike hears a shout in the background of the call. “I… have to go” Will hangs up before even saying goodbye, the tone in his voice worries Mike.
—-------
He lays awake that night. His wife asleep in the bed next to him. He can't seem to sleep. The clock claims it's 1 in the morning but Mike swears he's been laying here for longer. He gently sits up, making sure to not wake his wife. It hits him almost as hard as it did earlier when he brings his knees up and sits with his head cradled in his arms. That damn song. He gently gets up and walks downstairs. Water will–can! can definitely clear my head. He thinks. For some reason, toeing around using the oh so common word ‘will’ in his thoughts. He grabs his computer in hopes that writing something might put him to sleep. Not even realizing that the mindless words he's writing end up being about a certain event many years ago. The words spilled fully out and finished before he realizes, his old fingers cramping from trying to go the speeds they used to be able to go.
Will pulled the group aside in the squawk. I was scared. “What was he going to say?” my thoughts had screamed. And then words just started spilling out of his mouth, recalling memories but he's crying, he called himself different. My mind was so focused on figuring out whether to keep my eyes glued to his poor… pretty tear soaked face to let him know I care or to look around and see if anyone has an idea of where this was going. So focused that when I zoned back in I caught only a few words. ‘I had this crush’ then we locked eyes. All the puzzle pieces clicked and I felt so lightheaded that I didn't focus on the rest of the conversation either. He looked at ME. Did he like me back? My mind was reeling until I caught something about him moving on. He moved on. Will. He liked boys, liked me, and had moved on…. Everyone was comforting Will. I was the last to. My best friend. I felt so bad. The moment wasn't about me. Why did I feel so bad?
Mike stares at his words. He reads and rereads and re-rereads over and over until he hears one of his kids get up and realizes the time. He doesn't delete the file. He doesn't know why he doesn't delete it. He just… does. He slams his laptop shut and goes to make himself some cereal.