hurt, ( byler )

2.4

— mikes pov

july 27, 1986
mike was so, so bored. bored and upset. a great combination, really. he was running out of things to do; he didn't have any good books to read, he had no inspiration for any sort of writing, he tried drawing but gave up almost immediately, there were no good tv shows on. he had absolutely nothing to do.

he missed his friends. mike was sure they were all having a fun summer while he was locked away in his house with no entertainment. even connor, who said he'd come over every other night to keep him company, hadn't shown up for some time.

as if on queue, quiet knocking on his bedroom window sounded. mike practically jumped out of his seat to go and open the window. "my prince charming," mike greeted sarcastically.

"yuck," connor replied, climbing inside. "sorry i couldn't make it the last few days. got held up with family stuff."

"it's fine. i've just been, y'know, bored." mike sat back down on his bed. "my mom wants to send me to a mental hospital. he thinks therapy will fix me." he shakes his head. "'no, no, don't misunderstand!' she said. 'i don't have a problem with gay people—i just don't want my son to be like that.' like mom, you clearly have a problem, then."

connor immediately dropped his 'cool brooding guy' act and frowned—something mike didn't see happen often. "i... jeez, mike. i'm sorry."

mike shrugged. "i don't think it'll actually happen. dad thinks that i'll be fixed if i go to church and pray for forgiveness. 'repent your sins' he told me. he doesn't even go to church much anymore so i don't know why he went with that option."

"are you, like, okay, though?" connor sat down beside mike.

"as fine as i can be." mike pursed his lips, thinking about what he wanted to say. "y'know, i don't even care about what my parents say anymore. i'm gay. there's nothing they can do to change that no matter what they think. i just miss my friends. especially will."

"still love him, then?" connor asked. his tone was light, it seemed like he was somewhat trying to lift the mood.

mike flopped backwards, staring at the ceiling. "yup."

connor looked down at mike, face thoughtful. "i don't—think it's one-sided, y'know."

mike shifted his gaze to connor, a slight frown on his face. "shut up."

"i'm being serious. he's the most worried out of your whole friend group. he—he has this look when he talks about you."

"a look." mike didn't seem impressed. he wasn't impressed. he didn't think he'd ever heard something so stupid come out of connor's mouth.

"yes, mike, a look. i don't know how to explain it, it's just a look." connor laid down beside mike and turned to look at him. "he's not as nice to me as the others are, either. i thought you said he's the nicest guy ever?" connor smirked a little bit. "i think he's jealous of me."

"i'm sure there's a good reason." mike didn't believe connor. "connor, i tried to kiss him and he rejected it."

"and 'i'm sure there's a good reason' for that," connor mocked. "god, mike, have a little bit of hope? if someone said all this to me about james i'd be over the fucking moon. even i still have a bit of desperate hope and james is one of the most homophobic people i've ever met. meanwhile, will is your closest friend and he's gay and you're not even going to have the tiniest piece of hope?"

"since when were you such a romantic?" mike tried to flip the conversation to connor. he didn't want to talk about this stupid, hopeless crush anymore. it was painful enough.