Paint A Picture On Me

*Extension: Mike's POV*

{A/N: I've been editing this years later and wish I could rewrite this story so much omfg it had potential and my dumb teenage ass threw it in the garbage, but it's FINE so here's me making up for it years later}

*Mike's POV*

It's been two days since Kellin found out Vic's true identity. As much as I supported Vic going for it, I hate that it came to this. It was inevitable, I suppose, and I probably shouldn't've helped convince him to make a move, but I really thought it was for the best at the time. Now, Vic's at home drinking himself into a coma and Kellin's completely MIA. This shit's fucked up.

I drive myself to school after Kellin ignored my calls again, and it feels so weird walking in alone. I always had Kellin by my side—and lately Vic too—so this feels unnatural. I don't know what to do to help them. I don't know how to make anything better. Hell, I don't know if Kellin will ever talk to me again. He must know that I knew at least some of the lies, and I wouldn't blame him at all if he were mad at me.

"Hey," I greet Shannon as I stop at her locker before lunch, my tone less than enthusiastic.

"I'm assuming from your frown that you still haven't heard from Kellin?"

I shake my head, sighing. I know it has barely anything to do with me, but I can't help feeling slightly responsible for this entire catastrophe.

"Sorry, Babe," she sympathizes, her hand touching my arm. "How's your brother?"

"Not good," I mutter, hating the sight of him like this. "The only time he moves from the couch is to get another beer."

"Shit," she replies, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. I didn't tell her any specifics, I didn't want to rat on my bro, but I at least had to share that they broke up. I need someone to talk to, and she's the one closest to me after Vic and Kellin.

"I just don't know how to help them," I admit, feeling so fucking guilty and it must be only a fraction of what Vic's going through. "Should I go to Kellin's? Just to see if he's okay?"

"I can't answer that, you know him better than anyone." I nod, pondering the idea when she speaks again. "Holy shit," her voice mutters, sounding surprised.

"What?" I ask, her gaze not even in my direction and instead down the hall behind me. I turn around, immediately seeing what she's referring to.

There Kellin is, looking drunk out of his mind as he comes stumbling down the hallway with a smile on his face. I immediately jog over to him, beyond worried at this point.

"Kells, are you okay?" I ask, ducking down to see his face properly because he keeps fucking moving it.

"I'm perfect!" he slurs, his jaw clenching. He has huge bags under his eyes and he barely makes eye contact with me. "I'm just fucking perfect, Mikey!" He hits my chest lightly, laughing cynically afterwards.

Oh fuck. What has he done?

"You're not okay. I'm taking you home."

"Nahhh," he mutters, seeming so out of it that it scares me. "I'm not going anywhere with you.  You lied to me." Shit. I knew he was mad at me. "Where's Alan? Have you seen him?" He's talking so fast I almost didn't understand what he said.

"Come on, I don't care if you're mad at me, I'm getting you home."

"I don't want to be home," he slurs, chuckling and finally looking at me but it doesn't feel like he is. He looks so distant. "Home just makes me think of everything, and I hate thinking!"

"You can't be here like this, come on." I don't wait for more of his protesting and just grab his arm, pulling him towards the exit.

He just chuckles again, sounding drunker than I've ever seen him before. How is he this fucked up at 11am? Did he even sleep last night?

"I need to find Alan," he mutters, sounding confused. "Why are we going this way?"

I just ignore him, thankfully not being far from an exit and get him outside quickly. He's not even wearing a coat for christ's sake, I'm so fucking glad I have Vic's rental car today.

"Because you're not okay. How much did you drink?"

"I didn't drink!" he laughs, bumping into me. "And I feel great, why can't I go to school?" he asks, trying to turn around despite my tight grip.

"Mhm, sure you didn't," I mutter disbelievingly, ignoring the rest.

"Why am I talking to you? I don't like you right now," he adds, resisting my grip even more, but thankfully we're at the car.

"Well that sucks because you're coming with me anyway," I tell him, opening the car door and shoving him inside. It wasn't really that hard though, he kind of flopped into the seat without me even trying.

I rush around to the drivers side, making sure the door was locked so he didn't get back out right away. Luckily he just sits looking dazed and mildly content.

"I know Vic hurt you," I sigh, realizing I probably shouldn't try to talk to him about this when he's fucked up, but I need to at least attempt to fix things since I helped start them in the first place. "But-"

"No Vic talk! This is happy time, I wanna be happy," he interrupts, making me sigh.

"It's not going to go away just becau-"

"Nope! I said nope! That liar can go suck his own dick because I'm gonna be happy without him!"

His words kind of scare me, realizing how bad this might be. I really didn't think he would care this much about a little thing like age.

"He really likes you you know. You should hear him out."

"Pshhhh," he laughs again. "As if I'd believe you, you're just as bad!"

I try to talk again but Kellin turns up the radio, dancing in the passenger's seat and singing along. I tried to turn it down, but he kept cranking it until I gave up.

When we get to his house, he seems to come back down to earth a bit. He's not laughing as much, and his jaw doesn't seem so tight.

"I can't believe it was all a lie," he mutters as I walk him to the door.

"It wasn't all a lie," I tell him, "He was just doing his job."

He laughs again, a bit more hysterically this time. "Police," he mutters, laughing. "He's a fucking cop." He seems to find the thought hilarious, and I decide to give up on trying to reason with him until he sobers up a bit. Apparently they have one big thing in common: they like to drink when they're sad.

"How about you go to bed and sleep off the alcohol, huh? How does that sound," I try to convince.

"What alcohol?" he asks, laughing again. "I wanna dance! Fuck stupid liar Vic, I'm gonna dance forever!"

He turns the stereo on, blasting it, and making me cover my ears it's so fucking loud. I sigh, watching as he happily hops around, throwing his hands in the air.

"Fuck Vic!" he scream sings. "I hate your guts! You made me fall for you and fucked it all up!"

I hate to admit the lyrics were a bit catchy, and I decide to sit there for a while just to make sure he's safe.

"Fuck you Mike!" he keeps singing, pointing at me with one hand and using the other as a pretend microphone. "I hate your guts! You helped him hide which is so fucked up!"

I shoot him a look, saying really? I'm right here. But he doesn't seem to care.

"I hate the world! It's a terrible place. Everyone lies straight to your face!"

For a while he just jumps around, singing pessimistic lyrics that reinforce how terribly he's dealing with the undercover bombshell. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to help either one of them, but first we have to get Kellin sobered so I can try to see how he really feels about everything.

After about 2 hours of Kellin's dance party, he finally slows and slurs even more as he looks drunker than I've ever seen anyone. His eyes slant, his whole body drooping as he tries to keep going. Eventually he falls to the couch, passing out half on top of me.

Shit. This is really fucking bad. I'm not sure he's gonna forgive either one of us.