Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The morning air was particularly cold, the harsh rain thrashing against the window, slowly pushing in the brutal iciness of late December weather.

Mike finally gathered the energy to push aside his duvet, as every ounce of warmth immediately evaporated along with any ounce of energy he may have had.

As he slowly sipped on some tepid coffee, the cheap instant granules tasting just as bad as usual, he looked down at the sound of his notification going off and scooped up the battered old phone he refused to replace.It has that retro look.

The notification on his phone was from Lucas, who had sent one of Max's instagram stories.

Explosions of purple, blue and yellow covered the background, while in front were little white scribbles - obviously Max’s handy work - of a shitty looking fairy costume and another one was– perhaps a princess?

He scans over the actual writing of the post, trying to get his eyes to focus despite being quite blind without his very necessary glasses.

It was for another stupid party. It felt as though that’s all people ever did since starting college, especially Max and Will. Throw parties, get drunk, make friends you'd never see again and then repeat the whole thing as soon as people were bored again.

They were notorious for being the lives of every party, often being the actual hosts themselves. Mike had successfully avoided most of these irritating forced-socialisation gatherings, but Lucas had followed Max’s story link with a text that insisted he would murder Mike with his own bare hands if he didn’t come to Max’s party this time. Immediately then completed with a message confirming that costumes were non-negotiable.

Goddamn.

Mike took another sip of his coffee, the burnt cheap taste slowly growing on him, before mustering the energy to reply to Lucas.

“Fine, I'll come this time. But don't get used to it k? Cya this weekend”

Then he opened up pinterest, in the hopes of finding an easy costume to pull together in barely two days, whilst having a distinct lack of energy to be wasted on making anything complex.

Boy costume new year’s

The results loaded to show some pretty embarrassing ideas for his costume endeavours – mostly horror themed, obviously intended for halloween, and quite unflattering.

Cool boy costume

Then, he hesitated for a second before finally typing in shamefully:

Hot cool boy costumes

The results this time are definitely more helpful in all fairness – showing lots of pretty boys with false vampire fangs, or in other cases handsome pale skinned boys with full faces of gothic makeup.

He scrolled for longer than he cared to admit, stopping every so often to admire a particularly pretty girl, or a well dressed guy. These people seemed to just have a secret for being perfect.

Then, he stopped mid scroll and pressed on an image to see it in closer detail.

It was an image of a slightly longer haired boy, in what can only be described as a rocky horror picture show costume – corset and all.

If he was going to show up to an event where no one expected his presence, it would be a waste to not show up in a costume that would be the least likely thing to ever be seen on him, would it not?

He downloaded the image, intending to send it to Leiah to get her opinion on it, and probably ask her to go in a scandalous outfit alongside him.

As he finished the last of his bitter coffee, an alarm started to ring on his phone and he suddenly realised he’s late to class, again.

He grabbed a poptart and ran out of the door, still wearing the shirt he slept in and barely managing to run considering his pants were two sizes too big and he had forgotten a belt.

He finally made it to his first class – ancient English literature – and he took a deep breath before pushing open the door, to an already full classroom.

As the door swung shut behind him, making an unceremonious creaking noise as it did so, more than half the class turned to look at him as the teacher then proceeded to start lecturing him on tardiness and responsibilities and being an adult until Mike had settled in the seat nearest to the exit, right beneath the AC, since apparently it wasn’t already freezing enough outside.

An hour into class and Mike had already grown bored. This class was one of his least interesting ones out of all of them – he wouldn't have taken it at all if he had the option of choosing, but that wasn't a possibility when the only other class he could’ve picked instead was art. He discreetly pulled his phone out of his pocket and propped it up in front of his computer’s screen, careful not to be too obvious from the teacher’s perspective, before he then opened his instagram messages and started to type out his costume idea to Leiah.

Mike: Dude, i think i’ve found a costume ur gonna like for the party
Hint: frank and janet

No longer than five minutes later, his phone buzzed with a response from Leiah.

Leiah: DUDE NO FKING WAY

Holding back the urge to start laughing in class, he had put his phone back down and opened a google docs tab on his computer, not even attempting to listen to his teacher’s incessant drone about correct syllables and paraphrasing errors.

Clicking on the folder that reads “The Thessylhydra Conquerors”, he scrolled down to the tab titled “the Sorcerer and the Paladin” and started typing enthusiastically, thinking back to the scenario he had dreamt of during the previous night.

He was finally getting to the part of his story that he had been impatiently waiting to write as he now actually had a solid idea for it, which he has been severely struggling with until then; the sorcerer had lost his mage lover, who had sacrificed herself to the Thessylhydra in order to keep it distracted while the Fighter and the Zoomer had managed to combine their strengths to attack the beast from behind. During the meantime the Sorcerer had been given enough time to concentrate his abilities and finally cast a strong enough spell to bring down the evil creature. The paladin had witnessed this entire combat taking place while protecting the village people - as they were defenceless and powerless - and he had witnessed the entirety of the Mage’s death right in front of his eyes, unable to do anything at risk of leaving the townspeople alone. In that moment his whole world crumbled beneath him, his whole reason for living being put to a gruesomely sudden end.

A good few pages into the scene, suddenly people were standing up and the professor was packing away his bag. Mike looked down at the time on his roughed-up watch and realised it was already 11am, which meant he could finally escape this torturous class he was forced to attend.

As he was putting his computer back into his bag, he realised he forgot to grab any money for lunch and kicked himself, especially as he had only eaten a singular stale poptart that morning.

Making his way back down and out of the building, he gave Leiah a call, who picked up almost immediately.

M: Hey, uh..i know i’ve already done this twice.. But could you forward me my lunch? I forgot to grab my stuff this morning and I'm literally starving.

L: Ugh fine, but you now owe me three cinnamon buns, and due to interest, you also owe me a coffee too. And you’ll even be paying extra for the almond milk.

M: Fine fine, dunno how you can even drink that gross stuff but whatever..so, meet you there?

L: Yep, same place as usual. Look for the table near the window, that’s the best one and if I'm fast enough, I can nab it up.

M: Right, ‘course. Since it’s so important.

L: Oh, piss off.

Before he got the chance to retort, she hung up on him and then sent him a text, informing him that he had better explain his message from earlier on once he arrived.

Ten minutes later, he finally made it to their designated Wednesday lunch spot; a small family owned cafe that made the best cinnamon buns and sandwiches in any ten minute radius from their classroom buildings.

Leiah had been the one to bring him here for the first time, claiming it was the only place that served good vegan food that wasn’t ‘gentrified’, as she put it. Her whole thing was to be into the eco-friendly and anti-capitalistic thing, not that Mike knew what half the words she used even meant most of the time – growing up in a heavily republican and catholic household had most certainly set him way behind his artistically inspired peers at this school.

As he pushed open the door to the establishment, he glanced over to the table his friend had indicated, only to find an elderly couple sitting there instead. He scanned over the rest of the tables and finally landed on a spot near the bathrooms where Leiah had stationed herself, her pens already scattered around her as she traced pencil lines with careful concentration into her sketchbook.

Mike walked over and took the seat opposite her, glancing down to find a very rough sketch of a curly-haired girl with a thin nose ring and big doe eyes, who he recognised as one of Leiah’s classmates.

“Is that the girl from your art history class?”

Leiah, who had apparently not heard Mike’s arrival, jumped back and dropped her pencil, which then rolled off the table and clattered on the floor.

“Okay first of all, warn a person when you arrive. And secondly, you now owe me a pencil on top of everything else now, too.”

She quickly turned the page on her current work, as if she were hiding something of importance.

“But it’s not even broken! Just sharpen it again.”

“Just because you can not see the broken part, that does not mean it isn’t there, Micheal,” The usage of his full name indicated she meant every word. “The lead breaks on the inside every time it gets knocked about, idiot.”

“Right…I think you might be a bit hungry or something.”

And before she got the chance to throw something at him or punch his arm, he got up to the counter and ordered two lattes, a spicy chickpea sourdough sandwich and a curried chicken sandwich - but had to cut himself short to request almond milk for one of the two lattes after Leiah’s protested in the distance, before then requesting that his own sandwich be heated up.

Once he sat back down at the table and handed Leiah her lunch, she immediately pushed her sketchbook aside and took a bite hungrily, while Mike busied himself with blowing on his scolding hot chicken.

“Ok you may not have been entirely incorrect - I’m actually bloody hungry.”

“I knew I was right, but thank you for admitting defeat.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“In my defense, I only had time for a sad looking banana I found lingering in the back of my fridge,” Then she started to screw her eyes almost shut and made a genuine face of concern. “I don’t even remember when I bought bananas…”

“Sounds delicious!” he exclaimed in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok ok, enough about my fantastic shopping abilities. Tell me what you’re planning for new year's– Warning you now; I have a limited budget and little patience so you better be about to suggest what I'm hoping.”

“Well, I took a little look on Pinterest,”
She started doing a mock applause as he said this, considering he had only started using pinterest a month or so before – after she had begged him to install it. Since then, she had sent him movie posters almost daily for their ‘cinephile’ nights.
“And I had the great idea of looking up only your favourite film, ever. What do you think of us going…” He paused dramatically, amused by Leiah’s tense expression. “...Frank and Janet!!”

She clasped her hands to her face and took a dramatic gasp.
“Oh. My. Goodness. Micheal Wheeler, you’ve finally had a good idea!”

“Hey that's rude, I am a writer I'll have you know! I have never ending good ideas.” He sat back, faking offense as he turned his nose up and crossed his arms theatrically.

“Right, sure, that's why you've written barely two chapters since December started.”

Her quick-witted comeback shut him up immediately.

Fair enough, he hadn't been exactly inspired over the festive period. Returning home after finding some independence hadn't been an entirely enjoyable experience – despite the generally uplifted mood Christmas usually brought about in their family, he couldn't seem to quite get the memories out of his mind of his family asking him if he was planning on cutting his hair soon, or whether he has found a girlfriend at college yet. He tried to not give too much thought to the comments he had overheard his uncle saying to his dad about his ‘sissy’ looking son.

“Okay fine, you got me. But let's see your art portfolio before you get too confident.”

“Touché.”

They both chuckled and she took another bite of her sandwich, already almost finished.

“Okay but seriously. That costume idea is genius. Original and slightly niche but still sexy and cheap. Just gotta find some corsets now, but those are easy enough to find in some second-hand shops – there's always some bint who buys it for Halloween on shein and then dumps it.”

“Okay yeah, well, that's now your responsibility. I am not wasting my precious time going thrifting.”

His enunciation of the last word was a playful jab at Leiah’s shopping addiction when it came to second hand places, flea markets, and really anywhere that could possibly contain the belongings of some dead grandma.

“Okay fine. But you've gotta get some alcohol for the pregame, we are not going out dressed that slutty without a little bit of liquid luck and chemically induced warmth.”

Both of them being under twenty-one meant that he had to find someone of age, who was going to be willing to - not only speak to Mike - but also actually go out of their way to purchase something for him.

The thought of having to sheepishly ask anyone in his campus to do such a mission gave him a wave of nausea.

“Fine. No promises though, I'm not best buddies with anyone on my campus.”

She then pulled a face, similar to that of a mother concerned for her child being left out of preschool playtime.
“Wheeler, you need to stop being a hermit. I'm obviously very fond of you – but I can not be your only friend.”

This statement took him by surprise, mostly due to how untrue it was.

“I have friends!”

“Yeah, friends.. from primary school, middle school at most. And you hardly ever hang out with them either!”

He thought back to all the messages the group had been sending in the group chat, and even the texts he had received directly from each of them, begging him to stop locking himself away and actually spend some time together again – well, almost the whole group.

Will had been almost more absent than Mike himself, if that was even possible – avoiding all the ways they could possibly run into each other, looking away as he practically ran out of the classes he and Leiah had in common whenever Mike stood waiting for her at the door.

He couldn't exactly blame him, since he himself had been adamant on leaving well alone with rekindling any friendship they had left after the summer had passed by with no calls and barely any sign of Will’s existence – the only time they had seen each other being a big town affair and Will was more than icy with him as their parents exchanged greetings. After that, he had stopped bothering to even call.

“Look,” Leiah started, her voice softer. “I'm not trying to hurt you, ya know? I'm just worried you're self isolating s’all. I don't want you becoming some nutter who never leaves his room and writes tragic novels that never get published – it’d be a wee bit pathetic.”

“Yeah I know, don't worry. I guess I've been a lil avoidant.”

“HA! A little? I practically had to beg you on my hands and knees to hang out the first time! I felt like some creepy ex trying to get a second chance.”

He gave her a sharp nudge of the elbow and she flashed a cheeky grin, before grabbing her latte and taking a sip.
“Fuck, that's not the right milk dickhead! This is coconut milk!”

“Are they not all the same anyways..?”

“No?! Obviously not, you wanker! Almond milk is creamy and slightly nutty whereas coconut tastes like Harry Styles' music. See my point?”

“Not really.”

She rolled her eyes as she stood up and walked over to the counter, turning around as she went, and emphasizing her point by putting up her thumb, index and middle finger.
"That's now three cinnamon buns, a latte AND a cookie that you owe me.”

He shot her a rude gesture in return before staring out the window, looking at the paved paths that were covered in the wetness of rain again, the relentless bad weather still persevering.

Staring at the group of boys in the far left corner of the room, Mike sighed as he tried to think of what he could possibly say to them without making a fool of himself.

It was now Friday and he still had not gathered the courage, not strength, to ask any of the older people in his building to purchase the necessary goods for the following day.

Finally, one of the boys from the group seemed to be saying his goodbyes as they all started punching his arm and shouting insults in his direction, while all gathering some more of the common area’s mini sofas and pushing them together.

Seeing his only opportunity rapidly walking away, Mike scrounged up from his seat and quickly speed-walked until he had made his way behind the boy.

“H-hey!”

Startled by the sudden interception, the broad boy turned around and Mike faltered in his newfound courage.

The boy was certainly tall, as tall as himself, but he was also rather strong looking, sporting a shirt a little on the tighter side with a leather jacket over the top and some chunky silver rings ornamenting his hands, which seemed concerningly large now that he was closer in proximity. His eyes were strikingly blue and he had a mop of curly light brown hair, almost the same texture as Nancy’s but with more of the brown found in Will’s hair.

Mike’s insides felt like they had just been flipped upside down and he was painfully aware of how moist his palms now felt.

“Uh, hey?” The boy replied inquisitively, understandably confused. His voice was deep but still softer than he'd expected.

Why did I agree to this?

“Uh, hey, um– I'm Mike, from dorm 22B..I've uh, seen you around in the hallways and stuff.”

A light bulb seemed to click on the boy's face.
“Oh yeah! You're the kid who reads a lot, right?”

“Oh yeah, that's me.”

“Cool.”

A deeply uncomfortable silence settled for a moment before the boy hesitantly started turning to continue his path.

“Yeah so um, I was wondering if I could uh, ask you a favour?”

“Oh f’sure! What's up?”

Mike swallowed and took a breath, before finally blurting out.
“New years eve is this weekend and I'm supposed to be buying some drinks for it ya know and obviously, as you can tell, I'm only 18 and so yeah I was kinda wondering if you'd mind buying some drinks for m-my friends and I, and obviously I'd give you the money for it! but yeah that was basically all I, uh– wanted to um, ask.”

The piercingly blue eyes of the boy looked at him for a long moment, searching for something. But then his face cracked into a grin and he slapped his hand down on Mike's shoulder, so suddenly it almost knocked him over, since the hand was attached to what seemed to be an arm of pure muscle.

“You wanna party a little and impress some girls, huh? Well don't worry ‘bout it dude, I'll hook you up with some stuff. And I'll even let ya pay half price, if you promise to be careful ‘course ?”

Feeling his cheeks growing hot at the mention of impressing girls, Mike chuckled nervously and tried his best to sound convincing.
“Uh yeah don't worry! We'll be careful.”

It’s mostly to let loose enough to actually have a good time for once, he thought to himself.

“ ‘Kay, in that case I'll go out tonight and bring back some stuff for ya tonight - 22C you said right?”

“Uh, no. It’s 22B, near the rooms that just got repainted?”

“Oh yup I know the one, ‘kay. I'll knock on your door twice so you'll know it's me.” He gestured by knocking with his fist in mid-air for added effect.

“Don't worry, it's unlikely it would be anyone else.” Mike joked, but the other boy didn't find this as funny, as he tensed from the awkward but undeniable pathetic-ness of that sentence.

“Right. Well, cya..Miles?”

“Mike.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, my brother’s name is Miles. I'm Lewis, by the way.”

“Oh cool, thanks, Lewis.”

As he said this, Lewis simply did a half-assed wave as he had already walked away, leaving Mike standing in the middle of the common area like an idiot.

Quickly, he made his way back to his original spot as he opened up his phone to update Leiah.

M: Ok, operation booze is in action.

L: HUZZAH!!

M: calm down, we've still gotta wait until tomorrow night

L: ALCOHOL!! PARTY!!

Switching from his texts to music, he opened up his favourite playlist and dug around in his jean pockets, until he pulled out the tangled mess that his headphones must've become when he had shoved them in there in a rush at 7 that morning.

Once both earpieces were securely placed in the sides of his head, he pressed the play button and pulled out a tattered and weather-worn book from his bag, flicking through the first chapters until he found the most recent dog-eared page.

But after half an hour of trying to reread the same lines over and over again, he gave up and dropped the book back in his bag, now just leaning back in his seat and irritably opening his phone again.

I really hate these things sometimes.

Attempting to drown out his own mind with the music, he pressed the volume button a few times and turned the song up until it was almost on maximum, but it was never quite enough.

”It's on again and off again
Destroy yourself and lose your friends
And isolate the ones you love
Pathetically abandon them
I'll run until my legs give out
I'll smoke until my lungs give out
I'll sing until my heart gives out
The house with no doorbell”