GAME OVER: a Be More Chill fic

Level 1

Jeremy froze. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he licked his lips nervously as he looked down at the little matchbox he held in his hand. He completely forgot he had this.

Michael had called him a few minutes earlier to see if he wanted to come over and play a new game he'd just purchased -- Apocalypse of the Damned II: Dead's Revenge. Jeremy had eagerly accepted, hung up, and thrown on some real clothes before swiping around in his top drawer for a pair of socks. He dug down to the bottom, past his Pac-Man boxers and a few pairs of briefs before coming across the little box.

His hands shook slightly as he pressed on one side of the box, opening it just enough to ensure that the tiny pill was still inside. It was. The unused Squip buried in his sock drawer was the only proof he had that last month's disaster was real, and not just some nightmarish fantasy he'd had. Sometimes he wished it was just that, and sometimes he managed to convince himself not to think about it.

Jeremy shut the box, shut the drawer, and shut it out from his mind. He took a deep breath. Forget socks, forget the box. Take a walks. He chuckled to himself as he slipped on his Converse over bare feet. I'm a poet and I know it.

He hurried downstairs and paused at the door, meaning to call out a goodbye to his dad before remembering that he wasn't home. Jeremy was still getting used to his father having a real job. His dad now worked at the local family-owned video store, where Michael, a regular and a friend of the owner, was able to pull some strings. As glad as Jeremy was, it was weird not having him around the house all day. He shrugged and set off for Michael's.

Jeremy hummed to himself as he walked, and made up lyrics in his head. Goin' to Michael's, gonna play a new game, no party to hit 'cause we're totally lame... Two things hit him at once with a sharp sting: first, memories of the Halloween party, then the realization that this was the first time he'd sang to himself since before the Squip. The Squip had refused to let him do anything that dorky, and gave him a sharp spinal stimulation any time he tried.

He continued through the field, running his hands through the tall grass. It was a great shortcut, the same one he took every morning, as Michael lived only about a half a mile away in the same direction as the high school. He zipped up his hoodie against the cool November air, though the chill wasn't the only thing making him shake at the moment.

Jeremy strolled up the familiar driveway for the millionth time, and his phone went off just as he was about to knock.

PLAYER 1: doors open, i'm in the basement

Jeremy should've known, of course. He'd walked into this house unannounced countless times. But he'd been a bit more careful around Michael since the play, and Michael had noticed, and went along with it. Jeremy was grateful for that. He quickly replied.

PLAYER 2: i'm Heere

Jeremy's footsteps echoed in the seemingly empty house. He reached the basement, stepped into the room and --

"Ow!" An empty soda can hit him square in the face. "What was that for!?"

"You know exactly what for, Heere. First of all, you've already used that pun. Second of all, it's fucking awful." Michael fell back on his beanbag chair dramatically for emphasis.

Jeremy laughed, rubbing his nose. He took his place beside his friend, in his own chair, where his controller was waiting. Two lights blinked on the top to signify Player 2, as usual.

Despite Michael's brief protest, they played through the tutorial. The controls were exactly the same as the first AotD, which earned Jeremy a teasing "I told you so". After the painstaking beginners' walkthrough, LEVEL ONE flashed across the screen. Then, below it, the title Zombies in the Bathroom faded in and out of view.

The screen darkened. The music swelled. The first zombie appeared.

The Super Mario theme played.

Jeremy groaned at the sound of his ringtone before pausing the game and pulling out his phone. A picture of his girlfriend lit up the screen as he answered.

"Hey, Christine," he began, answering Michael's silent question, who is it?

"Hey Jeremy! I was, uh, I was wondering if you... well, I wanted to talk to you about something." She sounded too casual, and yet too tense.

Jeremy picked up on her tone and decided to proceed carefully. "Do you want to talk on the phone, or..."

"Well, I would rather talk, like, face to face, honestly." Uh oh.

"Right now?" He hoped his voice didn't shake too noticeably.

"If you can. We could get some frozen yogurt, if you want, and... just talk." Christine was starting to sound a bit more anxious. At least Jeremy wasn't the only one.

"Yeah. Okay. I'll meet you there?" Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair nervously. Michael placed a hand on his back, sensing that he needed the comfort.

"Yeah, seeya soon!" Way too cheerful. They exchanged goodbyes, then Jeremy hung up and sighed in frustration.

"Everything okay, dude?" Michael's brows drew together in concern.

"I don't know, man... Can you drive me to the mall? Christine said she needs to talk to me. In person." Hearing himself say it made the dread burrow even deeper into his stomach.

"Yeah, no problem." He stood and stretched, then offered a hand to Jeremy.

They walked to the front door in silence. Jeremy's mind shuffled through the possible scenarios like a deck of cards. Three of hearts, she dumps you because you're ugly. Ten of diamonds, she dumps you because she's gay. Six of spades, she dumps you because she thinks you're gay. Every scenario had one thing in common: him leaving as a single man. He wiped his palms on his jeans and chewed his lip. Michael threw an arm around his shoulders. Jeremy sighed miserably. He wished he was still in the basement, still playing that stupid zombie game. Still blissfully unaware of whatever Christine was about to say.

They slid into Michael's black Cruiser, and Jeremy noted how the slamming of the car door sounded an awful lot like he was slamming the lid on his own coffin.