I'll Help You « Michael × Evan » (Mama's Bois)

-Chapter Nine-

(Okay, sorry about the slow update, but it's here now!😂 I had really bad writer's block and no motivation to get it done. B u t. Major credit to AnxiousMusicalGeek- she helped me out a l o t- and she's also an amazing person, so like...)

~From far across the yellow field I hear him calling follow me~

T.W: Self-deprecating thoughts, cheesy shiz-

       Evan woke up the next day instantly panicking. He woke up like that often, but this time it was a more... giddy panic. It's Evan; he's always panicking in some way, so he'll take it.

       He was ecstatic for his date, even though he still couldn't believe he had one. Every time he thought about it he couldn't help but blink, then become even more excited.

      But while he was excited, he was also freaking out. Of course.

      He couldn't figure out what to wear, or what to bring. He definitely couldn't ask his mom after the 'conversation' they had when Michael left yesterday. Just the thought of it made Evan cringe. At first, all he could bring himself to do was go downstairs and eat breakfast. And that, other than thinking, was all he could bring himself to do for the whole morning.

      He, at first, was considering asking Jared for help, but after a couple minutes he realized how awful that would turn out.
 
      Evan went up to his room and took a step back, deciding to start with the easiest thing first: getting dressed. He was immediately about to go with his classic random polo and khakis choice, but then he stopped.

       It would be cool if he wore what he did when he first met Michael, right? He shrugged, and just went with that.

      After tugging on the outfit and pulling out a white pair white high-top Converse, he made his way to the bathroom. Once he walked in, though, he immediately looked away from the mirror.

      He did see himself for a second, and that was enough for the thoughts to kick in.

Biting your nails? Really? You're too goddamn anxious, Evan. And those khakis? God, you look like a 12-year-old boy trying to look like a middle-aged man. And your hair is too wavy. Comb it down. What does Michael even see in you-?

      Just... breathe. (SIGUE ANDANDO EL CAMINO POR TODA SU VIDA-)

      Evan dug through his bathroom cabinet, breathing erratic and pulling out an orange pill bottle. He swallowed a tablet of his Ativan dry, desperate to feel relief and starting to comb his hair back with gel. He didn't like how his bangs would fall in his face freely, so he always combed it back.

       He loved it when Michael's curls fell in his face, however. He loved everything about Michael's hair. He loved everything about Michael.

      Evan walked back into his room, sighing as he looked down at his khakis.

      He should probably change them...

      He switched to a pair of light blue jeans instead with a sad huff. He put on his pair of white Converse, grabbing a pink scrunchie off of his desk. His mom had gotten it from some gift exchange they did between the nurses at the hospital. Heidi gave it to him, saying he could do whatever he wanted with it; even throw it away.

       She desperately didn't want to keep it, claiming that she 'already looked VSCO enough, seeing how she brings a hydro-flask to work. She doesn't want to add a scrunchie to that.' Evan had a secret love for scrunchies, and was ecstatic to get one of his own. He, of course, would never wear it in public, but now...
  
     He's at least semi-confident with Michael, so he might have enough courage to try something he's been wanting to for a while. He pulled the scrunchie over his left ankle, leaving it just barely above the top ankle of the shoe.