Chapter Text
Michael is too tired for this shit. He needs to sleep for a million years and sleep again when he wakes up, not getting roped into a night out with Phonzy. He tries not to be too grumpy and ruin everyone’s night, so he decides to get his caffeine dosage up.
His phone dings with a text from Pavlo. He stifles a sigh.
Don’t be late
There is a location following the text, as if Michael will forget the club they frequent. Contrary to popular opinion, he loves going out. Letting go of his worries, listening to good music and having fun with his friends. It’s beyond him why he is so against it today. He picks up his phone to text him. But decides against it. If Jamal chose to ignore him after the international break, who is he to interfere?
Whatever, he thinks. His loss.
The vibe was actually better than he expected. PartyNextDoor is blasting through the speakers as Michael settles in next to Upa, who is not handling the new drinks he ordered tonight. He remembers the first time he was here.
He was in his second month at Bayern when he was invited out by Jamal himself. They were not best friends by any means, barely friends back then. Jamal was trying to help him integrate into the club even though he is shy himself. Michael wonders how long it will take until he gives up on him.
“It will be fun, I promise,” Jamal smiled at him. Michael needs to understand the phenomenon of how he manages to look so innocent no matter what the course of the conversation is.
The younger one stares at him, waiting for his answer, but Michael doesn’t know what to say. He is having a hard time telling the guy in front of him no, but too stubborn to agree out loud.
“What if it sucks?” The French counters just to get a reaction out of his friend. I guess we are friends now, he thinks.
Jamal mockingly gasps, clutching his chest. “You have me, the life of the party, and you are asking if it sucks?!”
Michael smiles at that. “Life of the party and Jamal in the same sentence is crazy.” At this point, he knows he is going to that damn club.
Jamal shakes his head, rising from the bench they are talking on. Michael doesn’t know why he felt the urge to pull him next to him. Munich is just weird, okay!
“Just for that, I will not take no for an answer. You need to witness my greatness in person.” Jamal opens his arm dramatically. Michael rolls his eyes. “Whatever, loser.”
You would think he agreed to grant Jamal three wishes like a genie by the way he grinned.
Now he is sitting at the club. The lights are close to giving him a headache. He sighs as Upa is talking complete French to Joshua, who looks like he would rather be anywhere than here. Which is saying a lot because even Michael, who got ditched by Jamal, looks better than Jo.
Kimmich sighs and lays down on the sofa while Upa keeps telling him about his plans to adopt a cat in French. The blonde sighs and looks at Michael. “I will start replying in German and send your friends to psychosis if he doesn’t stop talking my ears off.”
Michael smiles for the first time of the night and shrugs, He can't be the one to tell Upa and Joshua that they can in fact communicate in German. “Be my guest.” He leaves their section to find something better to do than play the peace maker between Jo and Upa. Today is Tom Bischoff’s birthday night out, even though his birthday passed two days ago. Pavlo insisted they need to celebrate it. They usually do that if their time is packed. What is not usual is Jamal not updating him on the plan or even checking if he is coming like he usually does.
Michael doesn’t understand why that pissed him off. He is a functioning human being and can check the GC or even send the text to Jamal himself. But he knows something is off between them after the break. Tom, Pavlo and Phonzy are setting up the dramatic cake they ordered, giggling amongst themselves.
Jamal should be here filming this tomfoolery instead of whatever he is doing right now. Michael doesn’t know what possessed him when he whipped his phone out and straight-up called Jamal. He doesn’t even want to know how late the time is. Before he could talk himself out of this madness, Jamal picks up on the third ring. He always slept light after all.
“Michael?” Jamal groggily asks. Michael instantly feels bad for waking him up like this.
“Mike?” Jamal asks again.
“Why did you ditch Tom on his birthday?” He asks. What he means is Why did you ditch me? Why are you off with me these days?
Jamal straight-up laughs, shocking Michael. He expected him to lash out or even hang up, not this, but then again, he never knew how to predict his next moves.
“You are insane,” Jamal says between laughs. “It’s like 1 in the morning.”
Michael shrugs, and he expected a worse time. “You are probably itching to leave them and go home,” Jamal mutters softly.
“Upa mixed some cocktail with Absolut vodka and now convinced Jo can speak French,” Michael tells him as if it answers everything. It does answer it somehow.
Jamal laughs again. Michael feels like he won the lottery. “Yeah... I am glad I skipped this mess.”
“Why did you skip?” Michael asks. He knows if he asks Jamal if he is okay, he will just act defensively.
Jamal sighs and shuffles, probably sitting up. “I was tired and needed some peace.”
Michael loves to call his bluff right now but decides to keep his mouth shut. “Well, so much for someone always telling me about how showing up matters.”
“I already told Tom. He doesn’t mind,” Jamal answers immediately, as if he rehearsed the comeback. “Did you call because you were bored?” Jamal’s tone sounds obscure.
Michael doesn’t like how confused he is right now. Because he is not bored, he just felt something is missing. “I just saw Phonzy with his shenanigans and thought somebody should be filming it.”
He heard Jamal sigh again, as if he heard something heavy. “So my legacy is a camera man?” Jamal says jokingly.
Michael just laughs at that. “You do manage to film everything.” Suddenly, he feels like he is annoying Jamal. Like, who calls at 1 a.m. to talk about that?
“Go to sleep, man. Just know you missed a great time,” Michael taunts.
Jamal yawns. “Yeah, whatever. Just go home, Mike. Your heart is not in it.”
The call disconnects.