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“Okay, okay. I understand that Will wants to go. And we will talk about that–“ Mike turns to Will, who gives him a cautious look, eyebrow quirked up. Mike files it away for later.
“But why do you ALL want to go? What about classes? What if the protest—"
“--the parade.” Max interjects.
“Whatever…gets violent?” Mike concludes and seeing his friends’ confused looks, tries to backtrack.
“I meant. I guess it makes sense for Will and Victor but us? Why is it an ‘us’ thing?” Mike is now talking with his hands. His palms flailing as he points out the whole group.
“Because…Will is our friend and so is Victor.” Dustin says is like it’s an obvious truth. As if Mike doesn’t understand the value of standing by your friend’s side. But what Dustin doesn’t seem to realise is that Will is different. Different than anyone. Everyone.
“And Victor is queer.” Mike says the last word as a whisper even though they don’t need to be so cautious here.
“Well, so am I, Mike.” Will says, sounding hurt and Mike wonders what was so wrong and rummages through the past minute of conversation; he doesn’t find anything.
“Yeah. But you’re Will. Our Will.”
“What the hell, Mike? Victor is our friend too.” Will questions with his big eyes. The beautiful eyes that turn all white when Will feels powerful. Beautiful, green, siren eyes that Mike would do anything to protect.
“Yeah, but these things can turn dangerous and it is not like it is going to amount to anything. Right? If you wanna hang out with your other–“ another whisper “–queer friends, you can just do that at the bar or at the poetry club—" Mike tries to reason but is quickly cut off.
“What do you even know Mike, why..” Will seems to be at a loss of words, exasperated, worried.
Mike wishes he could pry away that worry from his forehead, smooth out those lines forming. He knows this, all this, is important to Will and it should be important to Mike as well, but he never found it in him to truly care about all this, beyond Will. And Will must remain safe, especially during times like this. New York is not Hawkins but it is not paradise either.
“I don’t think your opinion is really valid here, Mike.” Victor speaks finally. It must have been his proposal for Will to go the protest/parade (as Max has very kindly pointed out). Mike doesn’t exactly hate Victor. Victor seems to a brave guy. He wears his identity on his sleeve and takes up lots of frivolous responsibilities, arranging meeting at the campus and volunteering for sex-ed groups. He has even helped Will and protected him from bullies at times Mike couldn’t be there. Mike is equally thankful and salty for that.
“Why? Why not?” Mike tilts his head in challenge.
Victor sighs as if annoyed. Mike knows this time there won’t be a speech for Mike to tune out halfway through. This is going to be something sharp and Mike is sharp too. Let Victor try.
“Listen. Have you ever kissed a dude?”
“Yeah.” The world tilts. But it hasn’t ended yet. So, Mike will keep marching
“Ohkay. Wow. So what? Did you like it?” Victor quirks up an eyebrow.
“Yes. It’s same as a woman.” Mike feels his friends’ heads turning in his direction. But Mike avoids them, especially Will. He cannot be looking in those hazel eyes right now.
“It’s the same. As in, I don’t feel any difference. It is like...having different opinions about pizza toppings. Whatever man, it’s still pizza. It is still love.” Mike tries to end it with a friendly chuckle but no one seems to be in mood for this. Including Mike. The chuckle dies away. Silence fills up the space and Mike dares not meet any eyes but wishes desperately to pad the silence with anything other than his beating heart.
Mike’s mind wanders and his words feel unleashed, the quiet on the table is doing his restraint no service and the words tumble as a certain memory from a few weeks ago in a bar clouds his judgement and eyes.
“If you love, you just love. It doesn’t matter who or what they are.” Mike finds himself saying as if on autopilot, aided only by the now cloudy memory.
Will drunkenly smiles, seeing Mike approach the dance floor—
“You love their personality, the –the inner…being.”
Mike courageously slipping his hands around Will’s waist and fitting so well, Will’s smile turning into nervous giggles –
“Some people are smaller in your arms, softer, some..not so much.” Words are easy. Words have never been so kind to Mike when he has tried to speak his own mind.
Mike pulling Will close, flush, Will melting into him like a puzzle piece—
“Everyone is different, you know, some lips are softer, some hair wavy…” Mike holds his breath.
Mike putting his lip between Will’s and Will accepting it, no questions asked—
“It doesn’t have anything to do with the gender, sometimes you find a missing piece, a unique one and you want to hold on to it. it’s just that.”
Mike exhales, not knowing where his words are coming from or what conclusion he is building towards.
“What are you saying?” Victor is looking at him curiously, leaning on his elbows on the table.
“I’m just. I guess I’m trying to say that it’s like choosing.
“And you can choose not to. You can choose NOT to make it a political thing. Or put up demands that are unreasonable.” Not his best words, Mike could’ve worded it better but it is true enough. To him.
“Mike, do you even know—"
Victor tries but Mike cuts him off and continues.
“It doesn’t mean though you gotta run around and put yourself in danger for …something that’s basically ridiculous. Something of no real-world consequences, only personal. It was those people’s choice and as much as I respect that, you got to face consequences of the choice.”
“Are you fucking serious, Wheeler?” Victor, for some reason, seems furious. It’s true that Mike is not his bestest friend in the party but they have had many good conversations, fragments of them, over the months and Mike has never seen the guy lose even an ounce of patience. Mike must have offended him, although he cannot reason how exactly. Victor is being too sensitive for no good reason even when he is probably the one suggesting their friends into a certain lifestyle.
“Hey, I’m not asking you to not be gay, okay? Be whatever the fuck you want. Gay or straight or whatever you feel like tomorrow. Just don’t drag my friends into something that could potentially be dangerous.” Mike exhales finally, the righteous annoyance in him sated a tiny bit.
“You’re so close but so far, Michael. Fucking Zeno’s paradox.”
And Victor storms off. Mike has only ever seen him calm so the storming off seems out of character. But then again Mike has never been so critical of Victor’s or anyone’s words in his life. Maybe he’s a bit out of character too.
Mike dares a glance at Will who is looking at him with trembling lips, his eyes full of tears and defiance that he has never presented to Mike, even at Mike’s worst.
“No one is dragging anyone.” Will says and starts to leave.
“Will come on, I–“
But Will is practically running away. Mike looks at him go. Something in his heart breaks a little.
And then Dustin breaks the tender quiet.
“Mike! What the fuck was that?” Dustin all but shouts at him. Mike finally takes a glance across the room. Lucas and Max and Dustin are all wearing confused expressions mixed with –mirth?
“What? What do you mean?”
“ Just what were you saying, man? How are you THIS homophobic when your best friend is..” Dustin speaks in the same whisper shout from before.
“I know my best friend.” Mike levels his voice, trying to hold his ground.
“Then why..” Dustin’s voice is almost like a whine and Mike cuts him off.
“I was just being logical there, okay? I love Will as much as you and even if..he has certain…proclivities, he’s our friend and he has been through so much, he deserves whatever he wants.”
“Wait. Wait. So, you mean Will gets to be himself because he has been through so much, as what? A reward?” Dustin’s disbelief is clear making Mike’s crystal-clear logic stumble.
“I mean, if you say it that way, it sounds terrible. But kind of. Yes. Not the..not the reward thing. Come on, you know what I meant.” Mike is losing patience here and his mind as well as heart are not in sync.
“The fuck is wrong with you man?” Dustin almost spits.
“Nothing!”
“So, you think it’s wrong? Right, Mr. Wheeler?” Mike flinches.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
“Because?”
“I don’t know man. Look, I have to go and apologise to Will.”
“For what, Mike?”
“For …for saying these things.”
“And not for believing them?” Dustin looks disappointed.
For the first time in a long time, Mike falls silent but Dustin is relentless. Not a peep. The café seems lonely, Max and Lucas inconsequential.
The world waits.
“You’re worse than our bullies, Mike!
“They were thorough in their ignorance, and hatred. You…you can’t commit to either.
You know what the worst thing is though?” every word is a new paper cut to Mike but Mike refuses to deflate.
Mike raises his eyes, levelling them with Dustin’s dangerously, as if daring him.
Dustin accepts.
“You sounded like you were in love.” And the world collapses.
Mike huffs out a breath as if trying to laugh.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You heard me.” Dustin swiftly packs his bag and shoulders it.
Mike stares but doesn’t laugh again.
“Lucas, Max, you coming?”
“Yeah.” Max says, taking her bag and standing up from her place.
Mike refuses to look at her, knowing the disdain that’s sitting there will be too much for them both. Also, he has more pressing issues to sort, namely, his apology to Will.
“Lucas?” Says Max’s voice from somewhere afar and Mike is suddenly aware that some time has passed and Lucas is still sitting at his place.
“I’ll be back in a minute, Max.”
“He’s hopeless, Lucas.”
Lucas doesn’t say anything, Mike wishes he had at least agreed. He keeps his head down waiting for all his friends to leave. Leave him alone. Abandon him. The mismatch between his mind and heart is coming back in complete focus and turning his breathing weird.
Something wordless must have passed between them because Max is gone and Lucas hasn’t moved from his place.
“You want to say something, Sinclair?” Mike tries to sass his way out of whatever is coming his way but alas—
“Do you, Wheeler?” Lucas returns the favour.
“Look, man. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Mike somehow manages through his rapid and shallow breathing.
“Don’t spiral, Wheeler. Take a breath”
“It’s not that I hate them, or Will. Never Will.” Mike manages to get the sentence out but then breaks into a sob-like breath.
“Hey. Hey, Mike.” Lucas reaches out his hand to hold Mike’s shoulder as he starts to tremble, almost hyperventilating.
“I don’t know what is up with me, Lucas.”
“I agree.” Lucas tries to lighten the mood, Mike knows, but it still hurts somewhere.
“Dustin doesn’t get it. Tell me you get me. please. And what did he mean, I sounded like I was in love or something? I…please, Lucas. Tell me you understand.”
“Mike. Just try to breathe, okay?” Lucas’s voice loses all the edge and humour from the seconds before.
“What did he mean? And I’m not..like those assholes. I’m not like our bullies. I love Will despite of…”
“Stop there.”
Lucas’s voice cuts through the haze in his mind. Mike looks up confusingly, his vision getting obstructed by his own tears.
“Huh? What do you..”
“Mike. I’m trying my best to be here for you. Don’t make it hard.”
Mike looks at him disbelievingly. He would glare but he finds his heart racing faster than before. All of his friends are being unbelievable. And Mike feels cornered, ready to lash.
“Go away with them if I’m being so difficult.” Mike spits the word with whatever semblance of anger he can assemble, like a petulant child.
Lucas’s eyebrows drop and Mike knows what it means. It means surrender. It means giving up. Lucas doesn’t give up. Lucas waited for eighteen months by a cold bedside, beside a broken girl and hoped and willed her back. Lucas doesn’t give up; at least not on people worth something to him. But Lucas is giving up now. He is giving up on Mike as if Mike doesn’t mean anything.
This can’t be it. This can’t be how their party breaks apart. What Vecna couldn’t do with years of torment and blood, Mike has managed to do in the span of an afternoon.
His heart clenches, the pain becomes physical, forcing Mike to sit down and clutch at his breaking heart. Tears that were being held, now cannot be held back as he focusses all he has on getting some oxygen into his lungs. It seems futile. Mike realizes he is breathing hard, almost panting. His vision goes spotty, mind racing to reach conclusions that have no place in Mike’s world or heart. He thinks of being alone, left behind, hated by his friends, Will; his worst thoughts rearing their ugly heads to sneer at Mike.
Mike feels a warm hand on his shoulder. It must be Lucas. But he was gone. Wasn’t he? He too had abandoned Mike. Hadn’t Mike asked him to leave?
But Mike is pathetic and needy and wants nothing but to curl up and beg his brain to shut up.
“Make it stop. Lucas. Make it stop.” Mike says through choked sobs. He feels pathetic, but who doesn’t when death is at their door. This is Mike’s death, not at the hands of demogorgans, no, Mike doesn’t deserve that glory; he was saved by their Sorcerer back then, the sorcerer who Mike had perhaps insulted a few minutes ago. Mike will die at his own hands, his own heart’s doing, the heart that won’t stop beating a dent in his rib.
“What’s happening, Mike?”
Lucas inquires again, his hand squeezing Mike’s shoulder.
“I don’t know. Just make this stop. My head won’t stop thinking. It is running.”
“Ok. Ok. Try to breathe. Mike—"
“I’m..trying. I can’t. my heart. It’s so loud. It won’t…it won’t..”
“Ok. I get it. Mike. Listen. Listen to my voice.”
Mike tries.
“Just try to breathe, ok? With me.”
Lucas tries to demonstrate. Mike would find it comical on a better day. Who doesn’t know how to breathe? Mike brain quickly thinks of babies born too young, born without the faculties to breathe properly; or the very old who forget to breathe. Mike is neither. How ridiculous. It does nothing to stop his brain or his heart, his mind is full of images of sad babies that Mike can never help. Babies –Holly, Will were just babies when they were taken. Mike could’ve prevented it. Somehow. Anyhow.
He is hit with a fresh wave of hyperventilation. No breath would grace his lungs. Maybe Mike deserves it for being so inconsiderate, so incompetent at saving his loved ones. El is still lost to him, his belief fading every day. He feels a hand on his back, rubbing it gently.
“Look at me Mike.”
Lucas’s voice again. Why does he keep trying? He should go just like he had said. He should let Mike remain in his tears and snot and tied-up lungs.
“Mike!” The voice cuts through the haze again. Mike looks up, a breeze of wind passing over his face, making him cold. Mike deduces his face must be covered with tears and snot, he feels ridiculous. But there is nothing to be done than to slowly die in this humiliation.
Lucas seems to be holding his hand tightly. The pressure brings a piece of Mike’s mind back to the table.
“It will pass. I promise. Just breathe.” Lucas demonstrates again. Mike tries to follow, match his best friend’s rhythm.
It takes some time. It takes an hour. Mike is not sure. But he can breathe again. The pain in his chest, just an old stab and not gaping wound requiring all his present attention.
Exhausted, Mike lays his head on the joined hands of his and Lucas. From an outsider’s perspective, he would have judged. But from inside this bubble, he doesn’t care. He needs to stay alive to apologise to Will. He will hold every hand that offers him salvation until he does so. And Lucas gave him his breathing back. Salvation can come to him now.
He holds onto his friend in reverence.
When it’s clear that Mike’s head isn’t running away and has settled with its regular number of thoughts and happily exhausted, he lets go of Lucas’s hand, now covered in Mike’s tears and sweat from his hair. He mumbles a quick apology and rummages through his bag hoping to find a tissue to offer to Lucas.
He finds some and offers to Lucas, who is still looking at him with his face closed off. Mike hates not being able to read faces, not that he is good at it, especially if it is not Will’s face. But Mike tries to and is somewhat good at it at crucial times. This seems to be one of those times, but Lucas looks far away. Kind still, but away.
Lucas already has a tissue in his hands but takes the one from Mike anyways.
Mike takes a breath of relief. This is more kindness than he deserves. They stay in the fragile peace for a bit.
“Will is going to that parade. So are we. They wanted me to stay back. Do you understand that, Mike?”
Mike nods.
Lucas nods and continues.
“I am going too.
“We are going. We know a simple parade is not going to change things overnight. We are still going.” Lucas concludes.
Mike nods, feeling ashamed.
“It could be unsafe. We are aware. That is why we stick together. We take care of each other. And we learn before we advise.” Lucas continues. His voice never going over a certain volume, forcing Mike to focus. It’s hard but Mike does it.
“You’re clearly going through something, Mike. I don’t know how to help you, or if you even want help. But this is not you. Wake up.” Lucas emphasizes and Mike suddenly feels guilty for something he is not yet sure of.
They stay silent for a couple more minutes before Lucas scrambles to his feet finally.
Mike feels a rush of questions and the guilt comes crashing to him.
“What do I do, Lucas?” Mike looks up to Lucas, whose eyes become kinder than before, Mike feels undeserving of it. but he holds the gaze in a show of sincerity.
Lucas huffs out a breath as if tired and he must be.
“I don’t know, Mike. Be brave?” Lucas says, not unkindly.
“Right.”
Mike tries to understand but he understands braveness to mean walking inside a fire to save someone you love. How does it translate here, in this adult world full of nuances and complexities that Mike never thought he’d have to deal with.
“What is –brave?” Mike asks, cautiously not wanting to get on Lucas’s nerves if he hasn’t already. He realizes he spoke like El used to, whenever she came across a new word. the memory pains his heart. He would spiral again, he knows, but Lucas’s voice brings him back again and he remembers his own question.
“Brave is…” Lucas hums as if really considering Mike’s question and Mike is nothing but grateful.
“Brave is…true. I guess. Whatever is true, and whatever it takes to get there, is brave. It’s also fairness, I think.”
Mike stares at his friend dumbfounded. A flurry of emotions and understanding cooling down his head, settles somewhere deep within his heart. He feels envious of Lucas, words are rarely so kind or meaningful out of Mike’s own mouth at moments of importance.
Mike knows his mouth is open slightly. He schools his face and gives an appreciative nod in Lucas’s direction. He hopes his friends accepted it.
Lucas continues.
“You could talk to Victor about these things you know. He really has a way with words. A bit like you.” Lucas offers him a small smile.
“He will give you better answers.” Lucas concludes, the kind, cautious smile never fading.
“Yours aren’t half bad.” Mike offers a tiny smile of his own.
The friends hold on to that tether for a minute. A flicker of hope announcing itself behind Mike’s eyes. Lucas’s shoulders fall down a bit in relief.
“See you. And drink water.” Lucas walks off.
Mike keeps sitting in his chair, heart full of guilt and hope. But he is lighter apart from his head and the pinch of pain in his chest.
Brave. The word swerves around his mind.
Brave, like a truth seeker.
Brave.
Like a paladin.
Like the party’s heart.
Mike can be brave. Even though it’s a new kind of brave. He will learn.
Mike will be brave.