*deep breath* welcome. As you can see. From this lovely title. This is going to be angst. And in parts. So uh. This took me a while to think out and write. And if some parts seem a bit awkward. I apologize, I wrote this at a variety of different places and times. Such as at 1 in the morning, at school, in the car, etc. It's going to be a trip. But I will say that there is healing at the end. I promise you that.

((Btw, I wrote this to focus more on the bonds between everyone and not so much on the ships, so I can't promise there will be much romance in this. But I slipped in a little. Because I needed it. Hehe. Enjoy, everyone :'))) -May ♡

A few days after the play, Michael pulled up to the school and walked into the building. An uneasy feeling creeped through his body, seeing seemingly everyone standing up tall, smiles dazzling but so, so fake.

Something went down that night, and he'd been too wrapped up in his woes to see it happen.

He passed by Rich's locker. A couple of flowers stuck through the holes were wilting sadly, their petals scattered on the ground. He frowned. Usually someone would have changed the flowers out by now.

Michael knew something was horribly wrong, but that didn't prepare him for what happened next. He walked into his first period class, plopping into his seat and pulling on his headphones. A popular song from 2011 began playing, and he felt his heart sink as he realized the lyrics painfully matched up with his own situation.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown #: Hey, this is Rich. I know I was a dick to your friend Jeremy but I need help and I heard you had the thing I needed.

Michael's frown deepened. What did he have that Rich could possibly need? He began texting back.

Michael: How did you even get this number?

<Added Unknown # as Bich>

Bich: I have connections

Michael: Okaaaaay not suspicious at all. What do you need so badly that you'd have to contact the loser?

Bich: Hey man I don't know you but don't put yourself down like that
Bich: anyways I heard you have vintage sodas?

Michael: I know a guy who sells 'em yeah

Bich: Do you have any Mountain Dew Red?

Michael: That's... oddly specific but probably

Bich: COULD YOU HOOK ME UP? PLS MAN IM KINDA DESPERATE RIGHT NOW

Michael: Whoa chill dude sure
Michael: Do you want me to visit you in the hospital or...?

Bich: Ya I'm kinda stuck here for a while

Michael: Alright man

Bich: You are a beautiful human being

Michael: uhh right

Michael locked his phone, staring at the whiteboard up front in disbelief. He didn't pay attention to anything in that class. Or any other class that day, for that matter.

Michael pulled his PT Cruiser into the hospital parking lot and got out, stretching out the stiffness he'd gotten while driving.

Reaching Rich's room, Michael opened the door quietly, already feeling awkward.

"Oh, hey! It's the hoodie dude himself." Rich was sitting up in his hospital bed, his casted leg elevated a little.

"Uh, hey," Michael responded awkwardly. Was it just him, or did Rich have a slight lisp?

"Listen, man, you don't have to be so stiff. Without my Squip on I'm just as awkward as you are."

"Gee, thanks."

Rich snorted. "You know, I think you're the first person at Middle Borough to hear me with my lisp."

"Oh... did you want me to keep that between us or something?" Michael asked, slowly easing into the conversation.

"Nah." Rich shook his head, smiling a bit sadly. "I've been fake for such a long time. It's nice to know someone knows me for me, y'know?"

"Mmm... I guess so. I've never really bothered trying to change myself," Michael confessed. "I didn't really need anyone else..." Michael's voice nearly cracked as he forced back the tears that threatened to escape him.

"Oh geez, I'm sorry, man."

"It's-" Michael wiped his left eye roughly, putting on a smile. "It's fine." He put his hands in his pockets and felt his hand clutch the bottle he'd brought. "So what did you need this for?" He brought the bottle full of red liquid out for Rich to see.

"It... it exists. Holy shit," Rich muttered.

"Sure does," Michael snorted. "This stuff was made back in the 50's. I'm impressed anyone but a geek like me knows about it."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't easy," Rich chuckled. "Sometimes I think the Squip's obscurity is a total curse. Just like the damn thing itself."

"Wait... what do you mean?" Michael asked. "What does this have to do with the Squip?"

"Oh, guess I never explained why I need that stuff," Rich commented. "I heard from some source that that's supposed to turn off this dumb Squip thing for good." His face went sour.

"But aren't Squips supposed to be... I don't know... good or something?" Michael asked, frowning.

"Seems that way... at first," Rich's mouth was pursed. "I found out the night of the party... it wasn't looking out for me, it was just using me to achieve its own goal. It's all my fault, I should've known life wasn't that easy."

"So... how's it off now?" Michael wondered aloud. His thoughts had drifted to Jeremy, worry coursing through him.

"I told it to shut off," Rich explained easily. Michael gave him a confused look. "Yeah, it's only temporary. It comes back eventually. That's why I wanted to take the Dew... before it's back."

Michael nodded slowly in understanding. He shuffled to Rich's side, passing him the bottle.

Suddenly, Rich's head twitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Shit," he muttered. "Michael... whatever I do... you gotta make me drink it-" Rich groaned as blue lines began to etch themselves under his right eye.

Michael's eyes widened as he struggled to open the Mountain Dew Red. Rich was twitching slightly, his face contorted in agitation.

Michael opened the bottle and brought it to Rich's lips. They shut tightly, and Michael grimaced.

"I'm sorry," Michael grunted as he used his free hand to attempt to pry Rich's mouth open. A small stream of the liquid slipped into his mouth, and Michael stood back quickly as Rich's convulsions grew worse. Screams ripped past his throat, and Michael could only watch in horror, unsure of how to act.

And then, Rich was still. Michael held his breath, fear bubbling in his chest. He walked over to the short boy slowly. A breath escaped Rich's lips, and Michael exhaled in relief.

He capped the Mountain Dew and made his way to the door of Rich's room. He supposed he should let Rich rest after that crazy freak-out.

On his way out of the hospital, he informed a nurse of what had happened so they could keep an eye on Rich. He thanked them as he exited, exhaustion pouring over him as he collapsed into his car. He drove home deep in thought, not bothering to turn on any music. Could that stuff save Jeremy...?

He continued straight past his house without thinking, set on this thought. When he arrived where he was heading, however, a large truck sat in front of the house. Men were moving furniture into the truck, and Michael's eyes widened. He rushed to dial Jeremy's number in vain hope.

The number you have dialed is no longer in use—

No longer in use?! Michael thought. He went that far...?

A sickening feeling pooled in his gut as he continued watching what he could only assume were movers. So there was nothing he could do...

*another deep breath* And it begins... I will update this daily. I promise y'all. See you tomorrow :')
-May ♡