Friday I'm In Love

△ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 △

Mikey drifted through the hallway like a phantom. The world spun beneath his feet, the ground trembling as his knees wobbled dangerously. He couldn't breathe; he clawed for air as his throat closed up around him and dots of color danced across his irises. He stumbled, fell, and landed against the wall behind him with a groan. Mikey brought his trembling hands to his chest, clutching them together as he rocked back and forth. He closed his eyes, screwing them tight as he fought to breathe. The air was hot, thick, as if he was breathing in soup instead of oxygen. The door a few feet in front of him opened sharply and a bright beam of golden light streamed through, grazing the toecap of Mikey's Doc Martens. A man emerged from inside with a slight sway and a heaving sigh.

"Mikey? Jesus-" Bert cried, rushing towards him, looking around frantically. "Are you alright? Mikes?" he asked as he moved his hands to cover Mikey's. Bert let go to raise Mikey's chin from his sternum, peering closer to check for any injury. "Do you know what you took?"

Mikey groaned in response as he squinted from the light, shifting away from Bert's hands. "Beer? Uh... I... shit drugs? M'sorry." 

"God, you're lucky you're so cute. Do you want me to call Gerard or Ray-"

"No! No, not Ray... Ray's..."

"Okay, so what do you want-" He was cut off sharply by Mikey grabbing his shirt and tugging Bert forward sharply towards himself. Bert barely had the time to place a firm hand on Mikey's chest, putting distance between himself and the other man with a gentle shake of his head. "No. Mikey, no. Look, if you don't want me to call anyone then I won't but you're drunk and I'm sad so we're not going to fucking do this again." Bert said as he retracted his palm and moved away, Mikey's hands slipping from his shirt and falling to the floor. 

Neither spoke as Bert shuffled to sit against the adjacent wall. Mikey stared off into space as he wrung his hands and Bert wrapped his arms around his legs with a sigh. The blasting techno music from a few floors below raged on with no end in sight. There was a point, after a few months, that Bert had grown used to the pandemonium around him and gave up trying to block it out. The bickering bats above were an excuse to turn his music louder, the drummer opposite was a reason to leave the house, and the crying asshole from floor seven was a reminder that not everyone was quite as numb inside as he was.

"It's Gerard, isn't it?" Mikey asked, sighing bitterly as an afterthought. "It's always Gerard."

Bert shook his head with a dry laugh. "It's funny, you think I could even come close to prying him from Frank's hands. No, it's not Gerard, dummy. Well, kinda, I'm pretty sure he'd shoot me on sight if he knew what we did. More importantly - Ray."

"We're just... we're just messing around, okay? It's nothing serious."

"No, it never is with you."

"What is that supposed to mean!?"

"When was the last time you had a long-term relationship? Hm?" Mikey stayed silent. "Bingo."

"Fuck you."

"Not while you're drunk."