Heathers, Dear Evan Hansen, and Be More Chill Oneshots!

Michael In The Lifeboat

Modern Heather's AU

Heathers/Be More Chill crossover

Trigger warning: Mentions of Self Harm, implied suicide

Michael knew the Squip was a bad idea. Now his best friend and crush, Jeremy Heere, was changing in negative ways. The words he said just minutes before still rang in his ears.

Out of my way... Loser.

Loser... Michael sighed, making sure the bathroom door was locked, before sitting against the wall. Why go back to a party where he barely knew anyone? No one cared about him anyways... Jeremy was the only one who cared. The only person who wanted to hang out with a loser like him, the only one who would stay up with him and talk him out of cutting himself... Was gone. He was just Michael in the bathroom now... All by himself.

Heather McNamara made her way through the crowd of people, trying desperately not to cry. Ever since her best friend, Heather Chandler, died, Heather Duke had done nothing but taunt and belittle the girl in yellow. She had no one to talk to about her problems now, since Veronica was always with the weird new kid and Chandler was... Well, dead.

It was horrible. She felt alone, afraid, and was desperately hoping things would get better.  It was like floating on a lifeboat. A tiny lifeboat... The tiniest lifeboat. Everyone she knew was on it, all of them desperate, scared, despairing, looking for someone to blame, to push off... And as it turned out, McNamara just so happened to be that person.

Michael was in tears. He didn't want to know where Jeremy was, and he was trying to convince himself he didn't care. Why should he, when all that would happen is he would be replaced? Outside the door he heard singing. He chuckled slightly as the drunk girl completely butchered Whitney Houston. He couldn't help but sing along, his feelings rising slightly, only to crash back down at the realization that now he had no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore. He was alone...

McNamara made it to the bathroom, and started to knock, hoping to be let in. The already anxious Michael looked at the door in fear, backing away from it. They found him. He found him. They're gonna start to shout... McNamara knocked more, eventually trying to open the door, the only results being a clang, clang, clang sound. Michael was having a full blown panic attack by now. He stumbled to the sink, turned on the water, and splashed some in his face, eventually calming down.

McNamara had given up by now, and was instead sitting by the door, crying into her knees. No... She wasn't supposed to show weakness, or she'd get ditched by her "friends". She-

"Aww, look everyone, Heather is crying!"

The demon in green herself stood over her, taunting her, while the other students pointed and teased, making her cry more. She closed her eyes tight, gripping her hair.

"Shut up... Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

Her eyes flew open... And they were gone. She was alone again... Or so she thought. On the other side of the door, Michael was glaring down at his arms, scars from past cuts littering them.

Loser...

That's what he was. He was a god damn loser. Obsessed with retro games and sodas from the 90's. Drove a PT Cruiser. A loner, and because of that, everyone thinks he's a stoner. Well, he was... But that isn't the point! All everyone knew about him was his name! No one would miss him...

No one will miss me, McNamara thought as she dug around her purse, looking for a bottle of pills she always kept with her.

Michael found a pocket knife in a drawer.

McNamara found the pills.

He held the knife to his throat.

She held the bottle to her lips.

They shared a single thought.

Awesome party, I'm so glad I came.

... That was more depressing then I originally thought I'd write it. Don't worry, the next one shot will be more cheerful.