Mixed Feelings: A Michael Afton x Reader Story.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚 - 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗

Note:

- chapter contains drinking and strong language!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

My feet tapped lightly across the concrete, faint music blasting from the house down the street. I could see people throwing toilet paper everywhere and drinking from bottles. This is fine.

I had to convince my parents I was only going out to see some friends, if they found out I was going to a party they'd kill me. I wore a blue collar shirt, my sleeves rolled up to my elbows. It was tucked into my ripped jeans, a belt surrounding the top of them, keeping them up as I walked.

Rain spitted lightly from the dark sky, stars just barely visible. It was at least eight o'clock, and I hugged myself tighter, the cold air stabbing at my exposed skin. I shivered, walking up the front door that was wide open. I couldn't even remember who's party this was, who's house this was.

I looked around, the lights were dim and it was packed. And I meant packed. I had to squeeze past many different people to get to the kitchen. So many drunk guys with their shirts off- swinging them around their heads and cheering. 'Fight For Your Right' blasted from the living room, I could hardly hear myself think. Even if I spoke to myself right there, in front of everyone, they wouldn't have been able to hear me. The song choice was very fitting.

I made it to the kitchen: there were different bottles and cans crowding across the counter sides, some empty and some full. Some were unopened and some were filled with.. liquids the complete opposite to what I wanted to drink. I looked through the fridge, different people bumping and nudging into me as they danced. Everything felt all stuffy and gross- the air warm. I could barely breathe in there.

I stuck my head in the fridge, seeing only a bottle of tonic water. I grabbed it, closing the door and looking at the counter top. There was an unopened bottle of gin sitting alone, "I'll just have a gin and tonic." I shrugged to myself, opening the bottle and pouring the liquid into a glass.

I opened the bottle of tonic: mixing the two liquids before grabbing a lime wedge and slipping it into the glass.

"Y/N?" I heard someone call my name and I looked up, seeing Jeremy smiling down at me.

"Oh.." I looked away, "hey.. Jeremy." I admit, I was still a little pissed off at him. Not only did he defend his asshole parents- when they said I was to blame for his broken nose- he ignored my feelings about Mike. My worries on if he was alright.

"How are you?" He peers down at my drink.

"I'm fine," I smiled, turning and leaning against the counter. "How's the nose?" I put my drink down for a moment.

Jeremy laughed a little, looking away and fake smiling. "It's fine." I huff and look away as well. "Are you still freaking out over Michael?"

I rolled my eyes, "of course I am." I knew he didn't like the fact I was so worried about Mike, but it was normal. That sight was PTSD fuel, and I still saw Mike as my friend. "You not drinking or anything?" I asked, to break the silence.

Jeremy upturned his nose, shaking his head. "I'm not a drinker- I'd prefer to remain intelligent," huh? "With a good reputation."

I felt slightly offended by the sudden, blunt statement. So he's calling all drinkers dumb, with bad reputations? Since when was that a thing?!

"I drink." I simply state angrily, looking at him.
Jeremy looked at me, "well.. I guess you quit it. I mean- unless being filthy is like your thing." What the fuck?! Why was he being like this? Was he still pissed about me rejecting him?!

I was silent for a moment, taken aback. "Get out of my face." I stared.
He looked down at me: "..seriously?"
I nodded. "Seriously." I smile, "fuck you."

Jeremy teased: "I thought you might have wanted to continue what we started in that back room."

I laughed in his face, "yeah right: move along." I picked up my drink. Jeremy didn't say anything else, he only walked away to the living room with a smirk. Asshole.

I sipped the drink- immediately contorting my face. "I put way too much gin in this.." I thought. But didn't I want to numb this horrific feeling I was going through? Wasn't that the whole reason I came here?

I sighed, sipping more from the glass: and more, and more. Before the glass was empty. My throat burned a little, gin was strong.

I turned, making the same drink quickly and turning back. 'Girls On Film' blasted instead now, and I looked at the ceiling- the stains dancing before my eyes. I was pissed. Pissed enough to try and forget about the accident. Also pissed enough to just forget about the random Jeremy ordeal for as long as I could. Seriously, fuck him.

I sipped more of the same drink, looking ahead and immediately- my eyes fell on a familiar face.

The boy pushed his way through the crowd, holding a large bottle of vodka, his eyes were puffy, undercut with purple rings. His brown hair was messy- it wasn't jelled like usual. He wore bagged clothes and tattered converse. He drank heavily from his bottle, making his way to the stairs, alone. Why was he here?

I blinked slowly, "Michael!!" I screamed out over the talking and the music, pushing myself off the counter with my drink and stumbling toward the stair case where he now walked up.

He didn't hear me, he didn't seem to notice anyone in his way. There's too many people. It's too loud in here. I made my way steadily past everyone, stumbling and falling about, people making out like there's no tomorrow- and dancing like this is the last time they'll ever get to dance.

Everyone was drinking like we were going to be murdered in a few hours: it was easily the craziest party I'd ever been to.

'Don't Push it, Don't Force It' came on, and everyone cheered and danced with each other. I ran after Michael up the staircase, clinging onto the banister for support. I hadn't seen him in so long, and he didn't look okay. I was becoming so drunk, and the noise was so loud. I just wanted to talk to him.

I got up the stairs, stopping in the hallway that only held a few people. I went up to a girl smoking a spliff, "do you know where uhm.." I could barely stand as I wobbled, closing my eyes and trying to think straight.
"Where did Michael go??"

The girl looked at me, confused, "Michael?? Michael who?" Her pace was slow, looking at her spliff and taking another long drag.

"Michael Afton- he has brown hair? He came by here a second ago- looked sad.. had a bottle of vodka.. uhm.." I rubbed my temples, wobbling on my feet.

The girl giggled, "oh!! Yeah, that.. dude. He went through there." She smiled, pointing at a room at the end of the hallway.

"Thank you." I smiled, stumbling toward that room.

I sipped from my drink again, before my hand came slowly to the door knob, twisting it gradually before the door opened and the light came flooding into the darkened bedroom.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hope you enjoyed!!