Two Weeks in Europe ✓

2

hi guys! have a happy new year's eve tonight :) here's to 2021 being a year for rebuilding, healing, and coming together as a world <3 thanks so much to AndrewHass, leolantsov, Luminous_Dark, ashika_bhatt for voting on the first chapter, and to emliarad for adding it to your reading list :)) hope you enjoy...

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Jamie was sitting on the staircase in front of the big front doors with his chin in his hand when his mother got home. Popsmoke was blasting through his AirPods, and he was trying with all his might not to text Mikey. Mikey had said it himself, after all. "I'm so fucking done with you, Jamie. You're hot and then cold, and I can't put myself through this anymore! Don't talk to me again." But Jamie hadn't listened. He had gone and made a fool of himself at that party, had begged Mikey to take him back. Mikey had just looked away. That's what you get for being a crappy boyfriend, dumbass, Jamie's surprisingly intelligent conscience whispered every few moments. You fucked up badddd that time. His conscience, I forgot to mention, also swore quite a bit. And it was true. Jamie had fucked up badly that time. He seemed to be a walking storm of fuck-ups, actually, and his sisters kept a running tally of how many times he could ruin his own life.

They had been fighting again. Jamie couldn't remember what it was about anymore, only that he had been angry. So angry. And when Jamie got angry, he had a tendency to not use the few brain cells that he possessed. In various situations, this meant different things. For example, the first time someone insulted Mikey while they were dating, Jamie beat the poor person up. Another example was when his sister beat him at Monopoly as children and he called her the s-word (stupid). This time, though, Mikey had worked Jamie's last nerve. They had never gotten along terribly well, and they always seemed to be going through a rough patch or a fight. The moments when they were happy, though, were some of the best moments of Jamie's life. Those moments made it worth it. They made the relationship worth it, they made life worth it. For Jamie, at least. They had been yelling in Mikey's living room, Jamie had been screaming at the top of his lungs, "I'M TRYING, JESUS CHRIST! MAYBE YOU COULD TRY A LITTLE HARDER TOO!"

"HOW COULD I TRY HARDER?" Mikey had yelled back. "I CARRY THIS GODDAMN RELATIONSHIP, AND YOU HAVEN'T DONE A DAMN THING!"

"THAT'S NOT FUCKING TRUE, AND IF YOU WEREN'T SO SELF ABSORBED, YOU'D SEE IT! YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER, AND WE ALL KNOW IT. IT'S JUST THAT NOBODY IN THIS DAMN TOWN HAS THE BALLS TO TELL YOU!"

Mikey had gone silent, blue eyes wide with shock. Too far. Jamie had gone too far that time. "Get out," Mikey had said, his voice eerily calm.

"Mikey, I--"

"GET OUT!" Mikey screamed. "GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE AND DON'T COME BACK!"

"Please," Jamie had pleaded. "I didn't mean it, I swear."

"I'm so fucking done with you, Jamie. You're hot and then cold, and I can't put myself through this anymore!" Mikey's nostrils had flared, his face overcome with rage. Jamie had never seen Mikey this angry before. Mikey raised himself to his full height, fists clenched, stepping forward. He had forgotten how intimidating Mikey could be, despite being a sweet person. "Don't talk to me again." Mikey had turned swiftly and walked away, leaving Jamie to see himself out. He had come by the house plenty of times after that day, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mikey, to talk to him. He had texted, called, DMed, hell, Jamie had even had his friends try to get Mikey to speak to him. Just one time, and Jamie would explain everything. He hadn't meant what he said, it had just slipped out before he could think to close his mouth. But Mikey had refused, time and time again, and the party had been the last straw in their now-unsalvageable relationship.