Heathers Oneshots//Kurt x Ram

Ok, not Kurt X Ram, But a Story I Wrote For Class

"I Will Never Be Satisfied"

Basically if Michael Mell was Angelica Schuyler, Christine Canagula Eliza Schuyler, and Jeremy Heere Alexander Hamilton. Modern Day!

Michael knew that he should be happy for the couple that stood before him, laughing, drinking champagne, and just being in love. He knew that he should be congratulating them, mingling with Jake and Rich. Maybe talking with Chloe and Brooke. Gossiping with Jenna.

But he couldn't bring himself to do any of that.

Christine's perfect black hair was tied neatly into a bun, and her white dress flowed in the evening breeze coming through an open window. Jeremy wore a tuxedo, like most grooms do. Michael smiled to himself. Jeremy looked amazing. There was only one thing wrong

It should have been him getting married to Jeremy.

Michael could never verbally admit his feelings for Jeremy. If his best friend ever knew, he would probably cast poor Michael aside. Anyways, he was happy with Christine.

Rich waltzed up to Michael, clearly drunk off of the champagne. Jake was probably looking for him frantically. Last time Rich got drunk, he burned down his house. "Heyyyy, Mikey!" he slurred. He was definitely drunk. "Nice partyyyyy, huh?" He flashed the taller boy a toothy grin.

"Yeah," Michael mumbled, tugging nervously at the sleeves of his tux. He knew that Rich would never see him as his equal, but he was Jeremy's friend, and he was going to respect that. Even if Rich had bullied him for three years prior. "It's nice."

Michael wished that he could disappear. Rich was babbling about Jake, but all Michael really heard were drunk, incoherent slurs. He wished that he was at any other location. Music pounded in his ears, but Michael could barely hear it. Probably a Hamilton song. Christine really liked those.

A mix of wasted and sober chants along to the music filled the air, it was thickening, choking, to Michael. This was an impossible situation.

Jeremy suddenly appeared before Micael. "Well," he grinned, "If it isn't my player two?"

Hearing those words just about broke the shorter boy's heart. He managed to crack a pained smile. "Hey, buddy." Buddy?! He thought, God, I'm such a loser!" Jeremy didn't seem to notice Michael's internal conflict. He was practically beaming. "Thanks for coming tonight. It means a lot to me." Michael bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. The scarlet beads were probably staining his teeth, but he didn't care. "It's no problem; you're my best friend. Of course I'd come!"

In reality, Michael wished that he was back at home, in his basement, drinking some Mountain Dew Code Red and playing video games. But, he knew that a negative attitude wasn't going to do him any good.

Christine walked up to them, smiling. A sheer gloss caught the light on her lips. "Hey, Jere. Michael," she yelled over the music. "Jeremy," she said, grabbing his arm, "Chloe wants to take a picture with us, and Jenna wants us for something." Jeremy nodded. "Bye, Michael. Talk to ya later."

I won't talk to him anytime soon. Probably never again. The sudden thought took Michael by surprise. "What?" he whispered aloud. "Where did that come from?" He couldn't believe himself. These thoughts were incredibly ridiculous.

He watched Jeremy and Christine converse with Chloe and Jenna. He watched Jake and Rich dance. He watched Brooke not-so-secretly steal another slice of the towering vanilla cake.

It's too painful. Michael felt tears burn behind his chocolate eyes. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend to confuse my feelings with friendship.

Michael felt a tear roll down his cheek, hot and salty as it dripped from his chin and onto the floor.

He did the only thing he knew how to do in this situation.

He ran.

Michael's heart and spirit had been shattered. He felt his bottom lip wobble as he burst into tears, full-on sobbing. He thought he had enough strength to persevere. To keep living the lie that was his life. To keep pretending that he wasn't broken.

Michael let out a shuddery breath followed by a shaky laugh. He pushed his glasses off of his face as he rubbed his red, swollen eyes.

He couldn't pretend, anymore. It hurt too much.

Michael left the wedding, never once looking back.

He would never be satisfied.