zentropy | mileven.

²³⁾ the summer ends

[MIKE POV.]

❝ we've both been so unhappy, so let's just see what happens when the summer ends ! ❞

━ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

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I'M NOT quite sure who I am anymore.

It's strange– when you're with a constant crowd of people who want nothing more from you than to feel the warmth of another body in the room, you start to lose any semblance of an independent mind.

the group polarization takes over each choice, each decision you make, and no action is truly your own, but rather the result of conformity and social cues that ebb and flow throughout constant conversation.

"c'mon wheeler, pick up the pace!" troy beckoned as our group delved further and further into the dark hallway, leading to a muffled cacophony of sound with each hollow step.
"slowpoke," max turned to me and said with a grin on her face, her hand intermingling with lucas's as we moved forward.

something like that would've made me go crazy with butterflies a couple months ago, but now it isn't even a passing thought.

"who's playing again?" lucas asked max, somewhat shouting through the combustion of music fluttering through the air.
"midwest emo rock band," james hollered back in response, drawing a small chuckle out of troy.
"they're local," max told him in reassurance.

we treaded closer and closer, and with each step the beat got louder.

the venue wasn't a large one. it was simply a somewhat small room with a stage decorating the front area, with no more than forty or so people crowding towards the edge of the stage like ants feeding off of a bread crumb. yet, the sound encasing the space was deafening, penetrating my eardrums with each thrum of the rhythm as we finally reached the source of the music.

"race you to the front!" max called out to lucas, the pair immediately rushing into the sea of people and disappearing into each crash of a wave within seconds.
"you gonna mosh with us, wheeler?" james turned to me and asked, nudging me slightly in the arm as he lit the cigarette that dangled from his dry lips.
"probably not," I replied him with a shrug, my fingers retreating to the confines of my jacket pockets as troy rested an arm over my shoulder.

"you're so fucking boring, man," he yelled above the noise, slapping my shoulder loudly in a masculine demeanor. I merely replied with a shrug of my shoulders as the two receded from where I stood, joining max and lucas into the rest of the crowd.

and so I was alone. again.

I was left standing by myself as I observed the waves crashing back and forth in front of me, getting dangerously close but never close enough to pull me in, the music filling each corner of my being, my limbs shaking with the heavy bass and crashing drums.

I wanted to leave. there was no point for me to be there, anyways. nobody wanted me there. max had lucas, james and troy were off probably shoving into people for fun, and I was left alone– isolated with nothing but the music filling my system.

my body began to move towards the exit door—
but then,

I swear it couldn't be.