Work Text:
1992, 5 years after Vecna's defeat.
Oh, how much he hated the way he felt right now.
The guilt, the sadness, the emptiness... Nothing was left to be said, aside from the horrors that flashed through his mind all the time. But there was not enough feelings for them to be put into another book. Not enough for him to pursue anything, except death.
Yes, he earned the money with which he bought his dream apartment in New York. And no, he didn't hold back from spending it. But he could buy a thousand cars, share a hundred of fancy buffets with famous authors and spoil his mother with the most expensive jewelries for her birthday every year... The feeling of wanting to end it all would never leave his body.
Now that he had everything, writing a second part was useless. He couldn't write a book out of his fortunate life. This boring and fancy life that made him realize how alone and hopeless he really was, away from his childhood friends and family. At least he was trapped in a beautiful city instead of the cursed Hawkins. Just thinking about the name of that town made him shiver.
Mike poured himself a third glass of wine before heading to the porch. Maybe it was the fourth one, actually. He didn't know. He felt a little tipsy, and that's all that mattered. That way, it would be easier for him to slip and knock his head on a table's corner on his way to the balcony. Easier for him to fall and die.
Jesus, how much he wanted to die.
He leaned against the railing that separated him from the void, trying to enjoy the view one last time even though he got bored of it a few months ago. Mike took his sweet time sipping the red liquid, searching for a reason to stay alive although he already made his decision.
There was no turning back now. Nothing could change the trajectory of his fate.
The last rays of sunset were seeping through the sky scrapers when he put his empty glass down. It was almost sarcastic how the view never looked as beautiful as now, right before he was about to commit.
Mike climbed on the railing without a fear in the world.
The void didn't scare him anymore. He saw far worse.
« I love you, mom. »
"In conclusion, The Afterlife is a book written by Michael Wheeler, published in 1991. It tells the story of 5 friends, Rich, Ed, Stan, Bill and Bev getting their entire childhood taken away by a strange entity that lived beneath the town of Derry. This fiction talks about friendship, the discovery of love and how they're going to handle an apocalyptic situation despite their young age."
The blond girl concluded her presentation with a proud smile.
"Thank you for listening to me, everyone."
A round of applause echoed in the classroom.
"That was a good one, Holly !" The teacher said out loud. "You sold your brother's book with a lot of dedication and maturity ! Almost made me want to read it... But I don't like sci-fi horror stories anymore. They've become boring, these days."
"You should really try this one, sir !" Holly said in a confident tone. "It's a really good book with a great moral, you wouldn't be disappointed !"
It was 7:00pm on a Thursday evening when someone ringed at Mike's apartment while he was standing on the barrier of his balcony, ready to jump.
Shit. Who could that be ?
At that moment, he had to ask himself a simple yet complex question : Should he stay or should he go ?
"Fuck..."
He got down the railing, went back inside and walked to the main door. He could always kill himself after his conversation with the delivery guy who probably mistaken his apartment with another.
Mike opened the door.
And he was far from expecting his childhood best friend to be the one standing in front of him.
"Hello, Mike." A soft smile appeared on the brown-haired boy. "It's been a while."
Mike was at loss of words.
"Sorry for coming unannounced, I... I'm on a trip to New York for a week and thought I would take the opportunity to come say hi."
The black-haired boy suddenly came back to his senses, eyes widening as realization set in.
"Yeah, of course !" He smiled, "Will, it's... Oh my god, how long has it been ? 2 years ? 3 ?! That's insane !"
"3 years, actually..." Will smiled softly as he looked directly into Mike's eyes. He never used to do that. "I... brought some things you might want to take a look at."
That's when he noticed the box Will was holding in his hands.
"Oh yeah, sure ! Come in !"
God, was he really that drunk ?
He closed the door and welcomed his friend with a tired smile that Will didn't notice, too focused on contemplating the luxury of the place he just walked in.
"I'll take your coat !" Mike exclaimed. "You can put the box on the table in the kitchen, right here..."
He showed him the way, feeling a bit anxious. The chances of this situation happening were so low that he still couldn't believe it was real and had a hard time dealing with it.
Plus, his tipsiness didn't help at all.
"Red wine..." Will pointed out as he noticed the empty bottle of wine on the bar. "Who did you share it with ?"
Another look at Mike.
Another one that felt like a strike to the heart.
Fuck.
"Me." Mike answered in the most nonchalant way possible. "I don't have anyone to share it with, and... I wanted some, so..."
"Some ?" Will laughed. "You chugged that whole bottle on yourself, Mike... That's more like a lot, but I'm not judging."
"Not my fault I don't have any friends other than those self-centered authors I meet every Wednesday at the bar."
Mike leaned against the kitchen counter as he crossed his arms, a blank look appearing on his face.
He wished the bottle of wine wasn't empty so he could get more drunk.
"Is everything alright ?" Will asked in a more concerned tone.
Mike laughed.
"Why shouldn't it be ?" He forced a smile. "I mean... Look around you ! All these things I own, that's... That's definitely everything you need to be happy, right ?"
His attitude made his friend uncomfortable and he knew it. He just didn't care.
"Michael, I... I didn't know you felt like this. I'm sorry I didn't call y-"
"No, it's... You didn't have to." Mike shook his head as he shifted from his initial position, uncrossing his arms. "Everyone thinks that I'm living the perfect life since The Afterlife made me rich... That's totally understandable. I'm not blaming anyone for not checking on me after it was published."
The bittersweet feeling his sentence left in the room is what stopped Will from trying to convince Mike that he was wrong.
"Yeah... I'm still sorry for you, though."
"Don't be. Pity is useless."
Will ignored his answer as he took the empty bottle of wine in his hands, eyebrows furrowing with curiosity.
"Did you finish the bottle right before opening the door ?"
"Why don't you show me what's in that big box first ?" Mike asked in a weary tone. "Then I'll answer your question."
Will nodded.
"Fair enough."
He sat at the kitchen table, grabbed the box, opened it, and started getting random objects out of it. Polaroids, drawings, a Dungeons And Dragons game... Childish stuff, nothing more. Mike expected it, but he couldn't deny that he did not care about all of this. Not even about what Will was rambling about when he was showing him the projects he did for his art studies.
He was just fazing out the entire time his friend was talking, and he couldn't even try to care. He was probably sobering off.
But then, he saw something that caught him off guard : A golden ring on his friend's finger.
"Shit." The words slipped out of his tongue.
Will got confused.
"What ? Are you talking about my drawing ?! I spent hours on it, how-"
"No, SHIT." Mike insisted, staring at the ring with distraught. "Is that an engagement ring on your finger ?"
The brown-haired boy's smile faded away, but reappeared instantly when he looked at his wedding finger.
"Oh..." He chuckled. "Yes, it is. I was planning on telling you later about this, but... Yeah."
Will looked right through his friend's eyes.
And this time, Mike did not try to escape it.
"So you're engaged..."
"I am." He dig through the box before handing him an invitation. "And you're invited to my wedding !"
Slowly taking the piece of paper in his hand, he was still processing the fact that his childhood friend was getting married.
"You got a wedding date and shit ? Oh my god..."
"I don't remember you cursing that much..." Will laughed again. "You changed."
"And I don't remember you being a hopeless romantic."
This sentence was inappropriate considering the fact Mike was Will's first love interest, but he realized it too late.
What a fucking coward alcohol could make him be.
"Well, I am." Will said with confidence. "I just did not have the opportunity to express it when I was younger, that's all."
Their conversation was drifting off. Both of them could feel it, and it was an unpleasant feeling Mike could not handle.
"Sorry, that was..."
"It's okay, Mike."
His words felt comforting in a weird way. He did not deserve this. Nor an invitation to his wedding. Why would Will do that ?
"Congratulations, by the way..." Mike offered him a smile. "Marriage is a great thing. I'm happy for you."
Of course, his friend got emotional when he heard those words.
"Thank you, Mike."
He could not wait to jump of his balcony.
"Oh, t-there's one more thing I wanted to show you..."
Mike had a hard time containing his frustration when Will said this, but he did.
Digging in the box again, he got a painting out of it.
A painting he saw before.
"Remember this ?"
"It looks familiar, yeah."
"I drew it for you 6 years ago. I was so nervous trying to explain it when we were sitting in the backseat of that car..."
"Oh, God..."
Mike's eyes closed from shame when he remembered. He could not be confronted to this situation again. Not after all the guilt he felt when he realized this painting was about him.
"You remember, right ?" Will asked, curious.
"Yes, I do..." He held back a sigh of despair.
"You forgot to take it when you moved to New York. I thought I'd return it to you..."
Mike was handed the painting and forced to take a look at it.
It was beautiful. He always loved it despite the circumstances in which Will gave it to him. The way he cried after their conversation, how Mike pretended like he didn't see it... It was hard to face it, but he still liked this painting despite everything.
However, there was a reason why he left it at home before moving to New York.
"You're really talented..." Mike said with a sad smile on his face. "Thank you for returning it to me. This brings back a lot of memories..."
"I know. I hope it's not too much for you to handle."
"No, it's fine."
It was not.
"Let's talk about you now !"
He didn't want to.
"There's not much to say about me, but... Ok."
"Let's start with The Afterlife. I read it."