Strangers In A Dangerous World (Frikey)

Chapter Eight: Our Beautiful Tension

I was woken up by the alarm that Mikey set each morning. I opened my eyes and immediately panicked. Mikey's face was inches from mine and our foreheads were touching. I could feel our arms linked with one another's and I could only imagine how Mikey was going to react. I crushed my eyes shut as he stirred and I heard him curse, "Fuck -" I felt him untangling us and his voice trailed off. I slowly opened my eyes and tried to pretend that I was just waking up. I met Mikey's eyes and we were still fairly close. Our foreheads were touching, but our legs were still tangled. I started pulling my legs and arms back while Mikey stood up. I knew that both of our faces were red, but there was nothing we could really do about that. Mikey looked back to say something as he was walking, but then closed his mouth again. He tripped over the desk leg and a bunch of papers flew off. My eyes widened excitedly when a shiny bass guitar was unearthed. I jumped up from the bed while Mikey nursed his throbbing toe. I pushed the rest of the sheets off the bass and brought my hand out to touch it before pulling back. I had never played a bass guitar before and I had never owned something this shiny.

I placed my hands behind my back while Mikey walked over to me and grabbed the shiny bass guitar from its hiding place. His eyes brightened and his personality changed. Suddenly, he was calm, cool, and collected. His smiling came out easier as he slid the bass over his shoulder. He strummed out two chords before frowning and setting it down. I asked permission to touch it with my eyes and he just nodded. I ran a finger down one of the strings before picking the beautiful instrument up. I slid it over my shoulder, but I didn't play anything. I couldn't make myself actually strum the bass guitar. I felt as if I would break it. Mikey watched me patiently before he walked around behind me and guided my hands onto the neck. He spread my fingers for a chord that remained unnamed. He brought his head down and rested his chin on my shoulder. When he spoke his warm breath brought good bumps rising on my neck and our cheeks brushed together from time to time. He wrapped his other hand around me and his hand brushed over my lower back. I shivered under his touch, but he didn't stop. He grabbed my other hand and guided it to the body of the bass where he helped me strum. I leaned my head back and rested it onto his shoulder. Mikey helped me play for a little while longer before he pulled back and circled around front. We were both breathing hard and Mikey was looking at me differently.

I pulled the bass guitar strap off of my shoulder and set it down on the desk again. I turned to face Mikey but he was already out of the room. I hadn't heard him leave and that was weird because the floorboards squeaked like a happy mouse. I followed him out of the room and saw him sitting at the table with his head in his hands. I could tell that he wasn't crying, but he was breathing hard and giving out little frustrated sighs. I pulled my chair to sit next to Mikey from across the table. I sat down next to him and pulled one of his hands away from his face but he shut his eyes. I poked his cheek over and over again before he sighed and looked at me weirdly. I could tell that I was still holding his hand, but I didn't care. Mikey looked down at our joined hands and slowly looked back up to meet my face. I didn't know what was showing but Mikey just turned in his chair to face me. I could tell that Mikey didn't want to explain, but I needed to know. I squeezed his hand in mine while he resumed watching it with a weird interest.

"What's going on, Mikey?" Mikey slumped down in his seat and refused to even look at me at all, "Come on, Mikey. You can tell me, okay?"

"That's the problem, Frank. I can't tell you. It's not right and it's certainly not okay. Some days I don't even know why I try anymore." Mikey had tears in his eyes and used my thumb to brush them away as they fell.

"Mikey, I'll make it all better, okay? I just need to know what's wrong and we'll work from there. Is it about your parents? Is it me?" I held my breath at the last suggestion as his head shot up guiltily before looking down at his lap. I sighed and felt frustrated, "So it's me. What did I do? I sometimes snore loudly and I talk in my sleep some nights. Was it that? I promise I don't remember anything!"