Things Mike Ross Wanted To Say To Harvey Specter But Never Did.

Just Mike being Mike (2)

The last time Harvey asked why he looked so flushed; it was because he was high. Therefore, he was understandably nervous the second time around.

In his defense, this week had not been the easiest.

Over his lifetime, few people noticed him. There were even fewer people who cared or commented on his well being.

Then there was Harvey.

Harvey was hard to read, hard to predict, and Mike was in a constant state of fear to let him down.

For that reason, when he had started to get sick earlier in the week, he had done his best to ignore it. What type of person called in sick on the first month of the job?

He exited the polished silver elevators; the buffed and shiny floors were a stark contrast to the dingy linoleum of his apartment.

After he walked into the glossy picturesque entrance to Pearson Hardman, Instead of eliciting a contented sigh all he could muster was a dull flick of the eyes to the secretaries and a half wave at Donna as he trudged to his cubicle.

Mike wedged his finger under his tie, and pulled at it gently. He was already starting his gradual tie loosening but about two hours earlier than usual. His throat felt scratchy and sore as if he had been screaming all night.

Last night.

Hot and itchy, he tossed and turned which caused him to sleep maybe a couple hours. Sometimes he could get busy enough that when he got home, he would just fall into a coma. Other times he would be awake enough to worry, stress about something that happened that day, remember something that he did not do.

Occasionally, it would get so bad that he would get up and leave for the office to relieve his mind of the anxiety.

He collapsed into his desk chair; it squeaked under pressure and clicked when it turned. He actually rather liked it, his chair had character. His preoccupation with his office furniture distracted him from his fellow associate who materialized out of thin air.

"Hangover?" Gregory asked with forced nonchalance. Mike ignored it as he pretended to be in deep concentration with typing out his password.

He did not trust Gregory. The man was what came to mind when thinking about lawyers - greedy, devious, and ambitious. All of these were traits that Mike did not excel in.

Whatever happened with getting ahead by good old-fashioned hard work? Mike could almost hear Harvey laughing at that, but then again, Mike could not deny that Harvey was a hard worker.

His computer started to load up his profile and he looked at Gregory, still expectantly standing there.

"Can I help you?" It was question but it sounded more like "Get the hell out of my face".

Turned out, Louis wanted to have another tête-à-tête. Mike felt Gregory was overly satisfied when he delivered the news.

He smothered the overwhelming need to punch Gregory in the face and went to confront the impending doom that Louis planned to bring.

After the whole pot fiasco, Louis had made it his goal to ensure Mike's life was a living hell.

He let himself into Louis' enormous office.

Louis looked like a villain in his tall leather back chair and abnormally shiny suit. All he needed was a white fluffy cat to pet as he shared his plan on how he was going to ruin Mike.

Louis pretended to be busy and was obviously ignoring him.

Mike shuffled a bit and fiddled with his sleeve cuff.