Chapter Text
Balancing his personal life ever since getting accepted into Harvard has been challenging.
Not due classes being that hard, after all his brilliant mind made it up for most part of the constant evaluations, and he was beyond grateful for that, even when he had a fair share of hardasses professors who needed their ego stroked before grading their students. Or the copious amounts of papers that needed writing, cases being seized, trials reviewed and piling work over piling work that his brain —eidetic memory and all— kept forgetting.
Nope, that was somehow manageable, nothing that a good five cans of energy drinks chugged at 3:00 am wouldn't defeat.
No, it has been the loneliness, truth to be told, he always had a hard time connecting with people —real genuine connections— usually he was an easygoing person and chatting everyone up was simple, he had made acquaintances through his years in school, but real friendships, people who he can count on? Not so much.
It will come down to the one same person that's been with him for years; Trevor.
Trevor who was currently mad at him, he didn't answer his calls or texts messages not even his emails —he had tried—
And all because he had refused to sell the answers for that test, but if he was being really really honest, although it hurt, it started way before that, say when his Harvard acceptance letter came in the mail.
His friend started to avoid him, making passive-aggressive jokes, they barely talked even when Mike invited him for drinks or to smoke weed —Trevor never missed an opportunity to get high— so it wasn't like suddenly his friend was making healthy life choices, he just didn't want to hangout with him.
And it had hurt, resentment welling up between them like an indestructible concrete wall. He knew his friend was prone to jealousy, he would be an idiot if he hadn't noticed before but he believed that deep down it was just insecurities, we all have them, it's human to sometimes let them cloud our judgement.
So he always brushed it off as irrelevant, after all, Trevor usually came to his senses on his own, there weren't any apologies or sappy speeches about it, things just got back to what they used to be.
But he was afraid that this time that wouldn't happen, Trevor was giving him the silent treatment, he was hoping that his friend would come by to say his good-byes the day before he hopped on the plane to Boston but the only person who was there to abide farewells was his Grammy.
He had missed Grammy too, now that they were separated by miles, the absence of his grandmother weighed more than ever, and it wasn't like he could take every other weekend to visit her, one; it was expensive, two; it take a lot of time and three; Grammy had said that she was going to be fine "Michael we've been together for years, no young lady would date you if she knows you come with your grandmother attached to the hip."
After that Mike told her that it sounded like she was ready to get rid of him and after an "I've been trying for years" he mockingly gasped in offense.
So yeah, he was friendless, grandmother-less and he felt left out.
He did try to make friends, he tried joining study groups and clubs and once in an atrocious attempt, he joined a health campaign —something about blood donation— but when he learned about the mandatory antidoping he quickly and quietly left.
It was exhausting trying to be sociable, in the oh so competitive environment that Harvard Law was, getting to know people that didn't consider you a rival opposition in need to be eradicated was hard.
And for Mike it was harder because once people found out about his genius mind, he became nothing but a threat to his fellow classmates.
He hadn't missed the side eyed glances filled with envy or the muttering under people's teeth every time he participated in class or the taunting laughs disguised as coughs when it was his turn to present a case or a subject.
One would believe that the high school mean bully wannabe behavior would have been over, Harvard students in their early, mid and late twenties had no business acting like that.
Not even him —months afar from turning twenty— was acting that childish.
And maybe his age was an issue on making friends too, it wasn't really obvious how younger he was compared to the average student, but he really didn't look older per se, that made people warily of his age, and when they found out that he in fact had applied early due his gifted mind they just saw a kid trying to play in competitive leagues.
So yeah, his personal life? Non-existent.
That's why he was up, alone and confined to his dorm room on a Sunday night, he did have a couple of essays to do but weren't urgent so he can procrastinate on that. He glanced at his roommate's bed, his roommate —a guy named Eric who was in his late twenties— had disappeared for the weekend, for the little things that he had gathered, the man already had a family, and as the clock marked the last hour of classes the man was out on his way to see his wife and his newborn son.
The usual routine was having the dorm to himself for the whole weekend, and it would be great and awesome if he had someone to invite over. We already established that Mike was friendless, in the dating department he wasn't having any luck either, he had hit up a couple of bars searching for someone who was up for a great time and maybe some sex.
Unsuccessful, he had returned every single time alone and a little bit tipsy.
He groaned, he was bored and it was kind of depressing to just stay there, he already spent the majority of the weekend doing that. Mike pushed himself off the bed, maybe a couple drinks would cheer him up.
He grabbed his keys and jacket, he will see where the night takes him.
Harvey sighed and rolled his eyes for the 100th time, he couldn't believe that he had agreed to do this —well, he actually didn't, Jessica practicality forced him to— now that he was the best closer in New York and under Pearson-Hardman representation, word has been out reaching some of his former professors who thought that it was a great idea and a wonderful incentive to their students to have a lecture by the great Harvey Specter about corporate law and how to successfully make a name for yourself in it.
In his opinion coming back to his alma mater to talk to some clueless students was a waste of his precious time, he would rather be doing anything with his weekend than this.
But then again Jessica thought it would be a great opportunity to put the firm's name into the minds of young prospectives and of course in Harvard good graces.
So that's why he was sitting alone at the dim lighted bar, sipping through his scotch while trying not to die of boredom. His lecture was on Monday morning so the University has flown him by Sunday afternoon, stealing his chances of spending his Sunday evening in the comfort of his condo while a record plays in the back. At least his favorite scotch was in his hand.
He was walloping in his misery stirring his glass when a man sat beside him.
"A beer, please."
He didn't give any attention to the voice ordering until the bartender asked for the third time if his ID was really his, the man's tone was tinted with offense when he told for the third time, that yeah that was his ID and he was a Harvard student.
Harvey finally looked up trying to suppress a snort, the 'man' was this guy with dirty-blonde hair, blue eyes and a slim frame who looked all but a twenty-one years old adult —if that was what was on his ID, no way he was older than that— he shook his head.
"I didn't know Harvard was accepting middle schoolers now." Harvey chuckled.
"I'm sorry, are you talking to me?" The guy asked, slightly glaring at him.
"Oh sorry I missed the other ten people sitting in here."
The guy rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his bottle.
Mike looked at the man beside him, his whole demeanor screamed rich and entitled. Probably one of those Harvard douchebags that came from loaded families and believed that nothing and no one was worthy of their mighty presence.
Still, he looked a little bit too close, the man looked well groomed, handsome and though he seemed entitled, the strong presence radiating from the tailored suit to the expensive shoes to the gelled hair was hitting him, full force. He looked slightly older than the average student too, so maybe not a student but a teacher, that would explain his 'better than you' vibes.
Mike blushed and looked away, he did not want to be mocked for staring, it was enough with the man making fun of him for his age.
He cringed, his age was indeed a problem when wanting to unravel in a bar and his ID was in fact a fake one and he didn't need to have people over him overanalyzing his identification.
Most bartenders usually warily eyed him every time he ordered, but now that he was at Harvard, he showed his college ID and argued his way into "Would someone under 21 would be studying law here?"
There was a possibility, yes, but the chances of someone like that weren't that high, and it wasn't like he was out there announcing that he was the exception.
And anyways he was two months from being twenty, and twenty was closer to twenty one, so no harm no foul.
He kept sipping his beer in silence.
Mike was lost in his thoughts for a moment when raising voices snapped him out of it.
He looked up, the man from before was having a heated argument with the bartender.
Apparently someone has messed up his bill and he was hastily implying that the bartender was trying to scam him and that if it was a common practice there to steal people's money he would sue the bar to the ground and everyone who worked there.
'So dramatic' Mike thought.
A woman came running after hearing the commotion, she presented herself as the manager, asking questions and spewing apologies. She tried to solve the problem assuring the man that she would take care of everything.
After a few minutes of back and forth between employees and the man, it turned out that one waitress wrongly entered a big order in the man's tab instead of the outside table's tab.
The manager profusely apologized for it, telling the man that she will discount a thirty percent off his bill for all the trouble.
Instead of agreeing and move on, the man started arguing once more, about the poor customer service and incompetent workers.
"My god, you don't have to be a dick." Mike muttered or so he thought apparently he said it a little too loud, the man turned at him.
"What did you just said to me?"
Shit, Mike raised his head, dark brown eyes glaring in his direction.
"I'm just saying man, they made an honest mistake and you don't have to pay for any of it, you don't have to be an asshole to them."
"And who the fuck do you think you are, to be telling me what or what not to be?"
"No one, I'm just…"
"Exactly, you're no one, mind your own business and you…" He pointed at the waitress. "If you don't know how to do your goddamned job right, maybe look for another one."
With that the man slammed a hundred dollar bill on the counter, grabbed his coat and left, leaving the four of them stunned.
"Wow, what a prick." Mike said.
Three nodding heads agreed with him.
Shortly after that he left too, he walked around campus for a little bit but quickly got bored and decided to walk back to his dorm, well, definitely not an eventful night at all.
He climbed back in his bed, at least he had a week ahead of him to provide enough distractions from his failing social life.
His alarm started blaring in an annoying rhythm that got louder by the second. He tried to fight the tangled mess between him and his sheets, looking for his cellphone.
Finally he found it, hitting the snooze button, he was ready to toss the phone when the digital clock shined on the locked screen.
He was five minutes late to his first class, shit, shit, shit! Mike jumped, gathering his discarded clothes from around, changing while brushing his teeth while tying his shoes he left in a rush.
Mike was out of breath when he finally made it to the classroom, he tried to make as little noise as possible when opening the door, but clearly luck wasn't on his side, the door creaked loudly, practically announcing his entrance to everyone inside.
All eyes on him he felt shame raising from his neck, he was probably red in the face, Mike was so mortified he hurried to the closest seat not really paying attention at what was happening on the front, until he was in his place taking deep breaths so his beating heart could relax and stop drumming in his ribcage.
He looked up and it could only be described as a miracle that he didn't shout the biggest "What?" that had never come from his mouth, when he realized.
In front of him was the man from last night, fancy suit on, gelled hair slicked back and shiny shoes on, he clearly recognized Mike, although his face didn't completely show it, Mike knew the raised eyebrow and the man's eyes traveling from top to bottom were thrown at him.
"As Mr Specter was saying…" The professor continued, everyone's attention back at the lecture ignoring the interruption.
The lecture went on for another hour, more than enough time Harvey thought. He ended his speech by telling the crowd of students that Pearson-Hardman was one of the top law firms in New York and they were more than welcome to apply once their education was complete.
He sat back down happy that the whole show was over, but his happiness was quickly ruined when professor Callahan announced that he was going to answer whatever questions the students had —he did not wanted that— so he spent another hour answering stupid questions by students who were obvious trying to suck him up like he would be in charge of hiring this bozos, he was sure that in a couple of years he won't remember any of them, not their faces and definitely not their names.
The torture ended shortly after that, students started to leave, some of them approaching him to shake hands, others to ask the professor about classes and assignments. He didn't care about any of that until the guy from last night —and the one who was late this morning— tried to make a run out of the classroom as fast as possible.
He was halfway through when someone called his name.
"Michael!" Professor Callahan called Mike over. Dragging him by the arm.
"Ah, Mr Specter, this is Michael Ross he's one of my top students if not the best of it all,
The guy looked cornered like he would rather be anywhere else but there. Harvey smiled to himself, oh he was going to have a great time at 'Michael's' expense.
"Hey there lippy, hope you don't grill me with insults this time." Harvey smirked at the guy's red face, he looked like he was wishing for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.
"Oh uh…no sir…It wasn't uhh I wasn't…" Mike was struggling to form a coherent sentence, only him and his luck, of all the people he could have called out for being idiots at a bar it was THE Harvey Specter, the very brilliant guest his favorite professor has been bragging about bringing him in for a lecture.
"Have you guys met?" While oblivious with whatever had happened between Harvey and Mike, the professor was curious about it.
"Yes!"
"No!"
Mike groaned, he didn't want to be known as the one who publicly berated an important attorney, he wished for Mr Specter to not expose him in front of everyone.
"We briefly met, nothing too important." Harvey said.
"Oh that's wonderful, Mike here is nineteen and already making a name for himself, kid's a genius, he has memorized every book, every lecture, and is top of his class, he might be one of the youngest attorneys ever."
"Nineteen? You don't say." Harvey sardonically looked at him, raising an eyebrow and smirking, clearly content with himself that he had caught Mike in a lie.
"Almost twenty, I uh er… be twenty in a couple months." Mike had the need to explain. He avoided looking into anyone's face, he would probably die of humiliation if he looked at Harvey's smug expression.
Just then a couple of girls came to ask about a grading paper. The professor attention on them.
"You know that having a fake ID is a crime right?" Harvey whispered close to his ear, he could feel the warm breath against his skin, Harvey's hand on his shoulder. He could hear the amusement in the older man's voice, he was really enjoying himself.
Mike turned around looking at Harvey, memorizing all the details of the man's face, his moles, the way his eyes crinkled while smiling and an indecipherable glint in his eyes —narrowly; like a predator looking at his prey, mockingly; like picking on Mike was the most rewarding experience and something else he couldn't describe— Mike shuddered, a chill running down his spine, the intensity of Harvey's stare was doing something with him, he didn't know what, but it was making his insides melt.
"Sorry sir, I don't know what you are talking about."
"Come on kid, cut the crap, I don't think you want your professor here knowing how naughty you have been, he seems pretty proud of his talented student."
Mike was on the verge of having a physical reaction, he would probably combust at the thought of someone calling his usage of a fake ID and underage drinking as 'naughty' let alone by someone like Harvey Specter.
Harvey chuckled he was definitely enjoying this. He thought the kid would look down and make excuses for himself, but the little shit look him straight in the eye and said
"Well you totally could do that, I guess I'll have to live with his disappointment, but I'll take the chance of telling how the great Harvey Specter harassed and belittled a minimum wage worker to tears. That poor girl, she's probably part time working to be able to pay for her degree and here comes a rich, entitled idiot trying to get her fired. Bold move old man."
"Oh really?" Harvey dangerously asked like inviting Mike to say another word and see where it landed him.
Mike panicked for a second when Harvey took a step into his personal space, he was going to back down, when professor Callahan joined their conversation again.
"Harvey if you ever need an associate or an intern, I would pitch Michael here without thinking twice, you could bet he's the best option in the market."
"I'll have that in mind professor, thanks for inviting me over, if you don't mind I have a flight to caught."
"Of course my boy, thanks again for coming by, Michael why don't you and Harvey exchange numbers, I'm totally sure that the both of you would cross paths eventually."
"Yeah Michael, why don't you write your number down here." Harvey pull out two business cards, one with his information and a blank one.
Mike tried to stop his shaking hand when writing his number, after both unfortunate encounters, he was pretty sure that Mr Specter would throw the card in the nearest trashcan as soon as possible.
He shyly put the card in the man's hand, Harvey inspected the number for a second and with a fake smile he reached to shake Mike's hand.
"I'm looking forward to have another conversation Mr Ross." Harvey squeezed Mike's hand a little too hard, challengely stare in his eyes.
Mike only nodded, unable to speak, the second Harvey took his hand it felt like an electric shock ran through his body, warmth wrapping his arm like he had just seal his fate with that handshake.
He wasn't a superstition man and didn't believe in destiny and all that irrevent things, he was just reading a little too much into the situation, it was probably nothing.
Whatever.
He has never been so wrong about something.