(for more chapters, see the studio below) “Mike!? What are you doing? Get in here!” Dustin shouted, beckoning him over. Mike chuckled lightly, unable to refuse. He might be in a bad mood, but he couldn’t take that out on his friends. He allowed himself to be pulled into the hug, trying not to think about the fact that one of the bodies pressed against his was El’s. And Will’s Eventually, they broke away and all went inside. Everyone began chatting excitedly, catching up on lost time. Mike stayed quiet, hands in his pockets, trying not to be noticed. He loved his friends but he didn’t feel like hanging out now. He just wanted to be alone, to brood in peace. Honestly, if he just disappeared off the face of the earth right now, he wouldn’t mind. “So, we’re obviously introducing El to Ghostbusters, right guys!?” Lucas said, plopping down on the couch. “Hell yeah!” Dustin beamed, sitting next to him. Will and El smiled, sitting next to each other on the couch as well. Everyone looked over at Mike, barely paying attention. “Sure.” He said half-heartedly, making his way to the armchair, separate from everyone else. Dustin glanced at the rest of the party, an eyebrow raised in question. Lucas and Will shrugged, El shaking her head. They started the movie, Lucas and Dustin singing enthusiastically along with the theme song while El giggled at them. Mike barely felt there, unable to focus for more than a minute. It seemed as if his whole life, everything he thought he knew, had just been pulled from under him, the cotton removed from his eyes. And he didn’t like what he saw. Will was also unable to pay attention. He found himself watching Mike out of the corner of his eye, looking for any hint of how he felt. Mike’s expression was unreadable, but it was clear he wasn’t okay. He knew he could probably just ask him and he’d tell the truth, but he felt like that was an invasion of privacy. Like he would feel obligated to tell him since they’re so close. But sometimes Mike needed to be forced to articulate his feelings in order to fully process them, Will knew. Mike bounced his knee restlessly, chewing on his lip. Will could see a distant look in his eyes, like he wasn’t really here. Thirty minutes into the movie, neither of them paying much attention, Will stood up suddenly, “I’m gonna go grab a snack. Mike, come help?” Mike startled from his trance, “Uh, I think you can-” But Will was already on his feet, dragging Mike by his wrist into the other room. “Will! C’mon, let me go!” He complained, trying to tug his arm out of Will’s grip, but to no avail. He dragged Mike into the kitchen, turning suddenly. Will looked serious, worried. “Mike. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird lately and today you seem worse than normal. You always bottle things up so nobody has to worry about you, but I do.” Those last two words came out strained. He knew the mental toll of carrying things with you, locked behind your teeth so nobody would know what you were going through. To suffer in silence to avoid the pity and the worry and the attention altogether. It was something he’d done his whole life, was still doing, but he didn’t want that for anyone else. Especially Mike. “I’m-” “And don’t say you’re fine! You’re clearly not. Please tell me.” Will still hadn’t let go of his wrist, and Mike stared at that so he wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. Mike sighed lightly, his throat tight, “I- El. She, um. She broke up with me.” Will’s expression softened, “Oh, Mike..” He pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms around his back. Mike inhaled, holding his breath. He gave into the urge to melt, to wrap his arms around Will. He buried his head in his neck, feeling tears searing the back of his eyes. “What happened?” Will said into his ear, not loosening his grip around him one bit. Mike paused, unease creeping in. He pulled away, locking eyes with Will. “You did.” “Wh- what?” Will said, a fear gnawing at his gut about what was about to come out of Mike's mouth. “What are you talking about?” Suddenly, Mike felt numb. Facing him now, feigning ignorance like he didn't know exactly what he did filled Mike with a red-hot anger that snaked its way through his veins, causing him to tremble. “Why did you lie?” He said in a low voice, gritting his teeth. “What? Mike, what are you talking about?” Will said. Mike could see a flicker of fear in Will’s eyes. Guilt, maybe embarrassment. Either way, Mike could tell that he was onto something. “The painting.” He said matter-of-factly. “You said that El commissioned it, that she told you exactly what she wanted you to draw. But that wasn’t true, was it?” Will hesitated, “Okay, yeah. I lied about the painting. But, I.. I thought I was helping. You were nervous about the state of your relationship and I just wanted to-”
“I centered my whole love confession around that painting, Will!” Mike was dangerously close to shouting. Everyone was in the other room and he was not in the mood for an audience. “You told me that El needed me. That she would always need me. That I made her feel like she belonged. That I was the heart? You made it seem like we were a match made in heaven. Did you actually believe any of that?? Was all of it a lie?” “Mike, no, I-” Will inhaled shakily, unable to string a sentence together. Will continued at a whisper, suddenly very interested in the floor, “I just wanted to make you.. Feel better? You were feeling insecure and I had the painting in my bag already and I.. I dunno. That’s no excuse for what I did though, I know.” “Well it just makes me feel worse about myself than I already do.” Mike’s hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms. He stared daggers into Will, trying to pierce his skull and see into his brain, to root around and find the answer to this lie. “I /know/ you’re not telling me the full truth. What is the real reason, Will? You wouldn’t intentionally keep shoving me back into a sinking ship, would you?” Unless he wanted him to drown along with it. Maybe that was Will's plan all along, to keep him with El for as long as possible until it all went up in flames, taking him with it. Maybe he deserved it, for how he treated Will in the past. Maybe he hates Mike with a burning passion and all he wanted was for him to be swallowed up by it. Will’s mouth opened, then closed. He swallowed thickly. Mike could tell there was something he wasn’t telling him. “Please, Will. The truth.” Mike pleaded. He searched in Will's eyes, looking for some way to wrench the words out of him. “I’m not even angry that El broke up with me. I honestly.. I wasn't sure I was in love with her anymore either... But what you said has been sending me into this whole spiral that I can’t get out of. If you were able to lie to me so easily without batting an eye, it makes me have to wonder. What else could you have lied about? I just want the truth, Will. Friends don’t lie, remember? All I want is for you to be honest with me. I thought we were honest about everything, but I guess not.” He hugged his arms against his abdomen to ground himself, squeezing so hard his stomach hurt. “No, Mike, I didn’t mean-” Will croaked, his breath catching. Mike watched him expectantly, waiting. “I can’t.” Will whispered desperately. He was pleading with Mike to drop it, his eyes glassy. Mike's heart wrenched, wanting nothing to do with this situation, or Mike in general. He needed to get out of here before he had an ugly discharge of emotion; he could feel it piling up in his throat and behind his eyes and he could feel himself teetering over the edge. “If you’re not going to explain yourself, then save it.” He hissed quietly, his stomach seeming to do acrobatics inside of him. He turned to leave, desperately wanting this conversation to be over. Why wouldn’t he just tell him the truth? What big secret is Will keeping from him? He'd fueled a dying fire, watching as the embers cooled, and he couldn’t even explain why. Mike didn’t understand it at all. He made his way back into the living room, hoping that he didn’t look as miserable as he felt. Will stood alone in the kitchen, trying not to break down. Him not crying while Mike begged him for the truth was feat enough, but now, alone in the aftermath, he could feel the tears pressing into the back of his eyes, wanting nothing more than to spill down his face and make him look like an idiot. The air around him felt thick, pressing in on him and compacting his lungs and his heart and he couldn't breathe or move or think without the threat of an explosion. He went to the sink, splashing water in his face, trying to inhale without his breath catching on every notch of emotion in his throat. He was close to hyperventilating, his chest tight and his muscles weak. Mike had stood there, pleading for Will to tell him why he lied. But he couldn’t. Mike wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t stop imagining the look on his face if he did; disgust, confusion, annoyance, discomfort. He would lose him so quickly, in just three little words. I love you. Will could feel the stifled sobs threatening to detonate inside him. With great effort, he swallowed them down, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists. Then, he felt it. Just barely, he could feel the skin on the back of his neck tingle, only ever so slightly. But it was a feeling that he was all too familiar with, and something that he had been dreading ever since returning from California. Fear began snaking its way through him, traveling the entire course of his body and seizing hold of his muscles and his mind. Panic began to settle in, wrapping around his heart and squeezing, making it beat faster than it should. He reached his hand up, shaking, and gently felt the goosebumps that raised against his nape of his neck.
