(This is a quick-fic. Up to five chapters or less, maybe more if I decide to do the play sequence. Inspired by the animatic above. Warnings: Self Deprecation.)

Out of all the things Jeremy could have insulted Michael with, why use the word loser?

Jeremy knew. It was impossible for him not to have known— he was literally there through out all of it. The name calling. The bullying. The torments, the pain, the tears.

Jeremy was there throughout everything Michael had gone through.

In 7th grade, where Jake Dillinger called him a nerd on the bus.

In 8th grade, where Brooke Lohst called him a whiny bitch for choking back tears when they threw his school project in the trash.

In 8th grade, where Rich Goranski called him a f.ggot when he caught him staring at Jeremy for a little too long.

And in 9th grade. Where everybody who has ever hated him joined in the fun and just called him a loser any chance they got.

And Jeremy had been there through it all. He was the one who sat with him on the bus. He was the one who helped him fix his project after it got trashed. He was the one who told Rich off.

The word had always haunted Michael since the day it first left his bullies' lips. A loser. A failure. A good-for-nothing, a worthless piece of trash.

Eventually Michael got fed up.

But he didn't get fed up with the bullying. He was fed up with himself, that Jeremy had to deal with all of his issues— sure, he had known him for twelve years of his life but there were moments where he thought that Jeremy was only there because he wanted a nerd to play video games with and not because he wanted a friend or a companion—

There were moments where Michael thought Jeremy only wanted a Player 2.

For video games.

There were often moments where Michael felt like video games were the only thing keeping their friendship together. Hell, they could geek around about all kinds of different stuff too but Michael always saw. He would always notice the distant look in Jeremy's eye when they would talk about the new Avengers movie coming out.

He would always catch when Jeremy would look away, almost sighing while Michael thought was babbling on about some vintage sodas he got at Spencer's Gifts.

He could tell how uncomfortable Jeremy looked whenever they were both at school together.

Jeremy was sick of him. He was sick of his social standing, he was sick of being called the same insult that they were calling Michael that week, he was sick of being dragged down with him, he was sick of being the loser, the geek, the... whatever.

And Jeremy hadn't even thought about if Michael noticed or not.

A few weeks ago, before all this happened, Jeremy had told him about the SQUIP. He was talking about how it could change his life— how it could improve how he was living. 

But Michael wasn't listening to any of that. If life did get easier for him, if he didn't need Michael to be by his side anymore... what would happen to him?

Would he just be tossed to the side? Like a used piece of Kleenex that was just there to plug the void of popularity that Jeremy had been trying desperately to fill?

Where would he end up? At the very bottom of the food chain? Would he just be too cool for him? Would he just change completely and not even be the same person?

Michael didn't want that. He loved his best friend for who he really was, a cute boy who liked talking about video games and x-men. That was his Jeremy. Michael didn't care about the others. As long as he had Jeremy, he would be satisfied.

So when Michael looked at the person in front of him now, he could barely recognize him anymore.

Even his outer appearance changed completely. Usually during Halloween, they would always dress up as two ghosts with lame cut out eyes since both could care less for a halloween costume. But now he was wearing this-this LED professionally made cyborg costume that fit his exact measurements. They also looked like they were sewn— handmade....

...which was bullshit, because Michael was the only one who knew, in all of god's green earth that,

Jeremy Heere fucking sucked ass at sewing.

He had completely bombed Home Economics class when he accidentally sat on a needle cushion, and everyone saw, and everyone laughed, and Michael tried to help him, and then everyone called them losers again.

So Michael knew for a fact that Jeremy sucked at sewing, and had avoided needles ever since.

So don't fucking say that the same Jeremy Heere managed to whip out this amazing costume out his ass, tailored it himself for his specific measurements, added intricate designs, and then sewed everything together.

Michael knew just by staring at his outfit that this wasn't Jeremy.

"I was thinking about this moment," Michael says, pausing before turning and looking at him. "What I was gonna say to you."

And for days, he had. He thought about this speech he would do that would make Jeremy Heere double over in guilt for what he did. He was gonna make him regret ignoring him so much, Michael could hardly wait.

But now that they were standing face to face and Michael could see Jeremy's expression, almost of relief to see him... it made this even harder. And it made him angry. Because what the hell, almost a week of straight up ignoring him and pretending like he doesn't exist— to looking like he was actually happy to see him? That was the bullshittiest of bullshit Michael's ever heard.

The spite in his tone grew worse. "I had this.. really pissed off monologue- an epic journey through twelve years of friendship." Michael hissed. And that was true, he planned to take him through a major walk down memory lane and just stab him with all these random moments from their past and how Jeremy just chose to ignore that.

He planned on it. But he scrapped it all away. Because even if he did say it, he figured he'd never have another chance to talk to Jeremy again after this. He didn't know why he thought that, he just knew.

Eventually, warning Jeremy's ass seemed to be more important than making him feel like crap.

Michael was about to continue, when he stopped, seeing that Jeremy had this fond smile on his lips. Michael furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" He asked.

"Nothing, man." Then he looked up, and Michael could've sworn with his whole soul that he saw tears in his eyes. "I-It's just really great to see you."

Michael stood there, frozen for a little bit.

Well shit.

Michael thought this would be easy. All he had to do was warn him about the dangers of the SQUIP, about how much harm it can do. All he had to do was that, and then he can go back to being mad.

But why the hell did Jeremy have to pretend that he was still friends with him?

And tears? What did that even mean? Jeremy's life had been on cloud fucking nine this entire week— he didn't even give two craps if he saw Michael or not. He had better friends, he was being talked about, he was very much well close to being fucking popular— the title he'd always dreamt of.  He didn't even look at Michael, even when he was right in front of him. And now he was saying it was good to see him— as if he hadn't been acting like Michael was invisible?

Michael didn't know if he felt pissed or seriously weirded out. 

Those tears ticked him off so much he didn't even acknowledge it anymore. "Yeah, well it's not gonna be, once you hear what I found out." He hissed, sending a cold, hard stare towards the boy in front of him.

He could see Jeremy flinch. They've gotten into numerous squabbles before, but this time, Michael was pissed. And it didn't look like this would be solved by Jeremy buying him McDonald's at 3AM as a peace offering.

"Found out? About what-" Jeremy begun to ask, when Michael cut him off with a gesture to  his temple. The SQUIP.

"But how? There's nothing on the internet that—"

"Which is weird, right?!" Michael interjected. He ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. He turned to look back at Jeremy. "I-I mean, what's not on the internet?!" He exclaimed. He could feel his anxiety seeping through his veins. He knew it was coming, but he had to warn him.

He calmed down a little, exhaling. "S-So I started asking around. And finally, this guy I played Warcraft with..."

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[11:34PM] [crystalpepsi]: sorry i had to leave but you said something on mic about a squip?? you know about those??

[11:36PM] [insanelycoolJK]: Yeah, man. SQUIPS. They're actually pretty hard to find these days. I heard about a rumor that involved shoe stores or something, but i don't think it's real.

[11:37PM] [insanelycoolJK]: It's called a Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. From what he told me, it's this insane super computer compressed into this gray pill. At least that's what the squip told him.

[11:40PM] [crystalpepsi]: im sorry, 'told'? it talked to him?

[11:42PM] [insanelycoolJK]: Dude, thats the least of it. It would literally appear in front of him, like human form. He didn't tell me what it looks like but it talked to him and gave him directions.

[11:45PM] [insanelycoolJK]: He turned into this guy that i didn't know. I would say he was cooler, but from the way my brother was acting it seemed like i was the only one who could tell it wsa WAY too forced. it was like he was completely another person

[11:48PM] [crystalpepsi]: that's... i don't even know how to respond to that. just... holy crap.

[11:50PM] [insanelycoolJK]: It gets worse. Our parents didn't even recognize him anymore. and you can IMAGINE the shock we had when he went from a straigt D student, to a freaking FRESHMAN AT HARVARD

[11:51PM] [crystalpepsi]: seriously?!!

[11:51PM] [insanelycoolJK]: no joke.

[11:53PM] [crystalpepsi]: well, where is he now??

[11:58PM] [insanelycoolJK]: You know, I hate talking about this cause it brings up really bad memories. It's been a couple of months now since I last saw my brother so this is kind of a touchy subject. But you seem like you're interested in taking one, or you know somebody else who has plans to take one. And the last thing I want is for others experiencing what my brother went through. If you're thinking about it, I'm telling you, don't.

insanelycoolJK is typing . . .

[12:00AM] [insanelycoolJK]: My brother's currently in a mental hospital.

[12:01AM] [insanelycoolJK]: He just... lost it. Completely. One day we just found him screaming and crying, clawing his own skull and shit. It was the scariest thing I'd ever seen in my life. He looked so fine, so... chill, just two days ago when he got accepted into Harvard.

[12:03AM] [insanelycoolJK]: And then suddenly he just snapped and the next thing I knew, I was helping the paramedics strap him to a stretcher. I couldn't believe there would be a day where I had to hold my brother down while he was getting sedated. It was the most harrowing experience you could imagine.

[12:05AM] [insanelycoolJK]: im telling you, dude. Don't do it. It'll do you more harm than good. I don't know you that well man but i definitely don't want you to go through what my brother went through, what I went through. Think about this, okay?

insanelycoolJK has logged off.

Michael's hands froze. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He felt himself begin to pale. His stomach had sank to the floor.

Why was he only knowing this now?

He should've did research. He should've tried to find out more about the SQUIP. He should've taken so many precautions.

And now Jeremy had already taken it.

-

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"...told me how his brother went from a straight D student, to a freshman at Harvard."  Michael wanted to see at least some fear on Jeremy's face. At least some uneasiness or signs that he was weirded out.

But no.

Jeremy had the tiniest smile on his lips. Did this news somehow sound good to him?

That only pissed Michael off even more.

"You know where he is now?" He asked Jeremy, taking a few steps forward. His voice had lowered. He needed him to hear exactly what he was going to say next.

Jeremy snickered.

"Really happy and successful?" He asked, a hopeful look in his eyes. God, it was like every word Jeremy spoke was a punch of guilt to Michael's gut. He shouldn't have let him take it. He should've asked around more, researched, he could've prevented this.

So he sucked in a sharp breath.

"He's in a mental hospital."

For a split second, the hope vanished from his eyes. It was like Michael had gotten through him somehow. And then he saw the fear. Michael continued.

"Totally lost it..."

"I don't see how that has anything to do with—" Jeremy begun to cut him off, but Michael wasn't about to let his stubborn ass ignore his warning.

"THINK, man!" He yelled suddenly, catching Jeremy off guard. Michael's voice was full of anger and frustration. "We're talking an insanely powerful supercomputer! You think that it's primary function is to get you laid?!" Michael exclaimed. He had to make him understand, he had to convince him to get rid of it.

Please.

"Who made them?! How did they end up in a highschool?! In NEW JERSEY?" Michael yelled.

He stepped away from Jeremy and leaned by the sink, running his hand through his hair. It was a habit he had when he was frustrated or worried. Though it didn't seem like Jeremy could care to notice at the moment.

"Of all possible applications for such a-a mindblowingly advanced technology, you ever wonder what it's doing inside you?" Michael asked, pointing an accusing finger towards him.

Their eyes met for a few seconds. Michael was desperately hoping that he was reaching him.

But Jeremy's eyes were cold.

And then he scoffed.

"And I thought Chloe was jealous." He said, rolling his eyes with a sigh.

Hell no. Jeremy didn't seriously think Michael would go so far to warn him about a mind destroying pill  just because he was jealous.

"I'm honestly asking." Michael said seriously.

"Oh really?" Jeremy asked, taking a step forward.

"Yeah."

"Because I think you're just pissed that I have one, and you don't." Jeremy spat.

Holy shit. It's too late, the squip swallowed his brain, it had a reverse effect. He's officially become even dumber.

"Oh come on—" Michael said exasperatedly.

"Hey welll maybe I got lucky, alright? Is that so weird?" Jeremy choked out. His eyes narrowed as he stared Michael down. His voice was shaking. Jeremy's hands were formed into fists, aside from him being so pale you could see his veins, his anger was seeping through his expression.

The squip was the only good thing to have happened to him this whole year, how long should he have to keep suffering? And now that he finally had a solution, a way to solve his problems, a way to finally stop being the loser, the geek, or whatever.

He had all of that now, and Michael wanted to take it away from him?

Jeremy had always hated himself. He didn't need the Squip to tell him that everything about him made him want to die. He hated that he was a loser, he hated that he was a geek, he hated that he didn't fit in, he hated it, he HATED IT.

It was obvious he wanted Michael to understand his situation, why he didn't want to remove the SQUIP. He wanted him to understand.

He knew Michael. He knew he wasn't actually jealous— god, Michael could give less of a shit if he was a cool or not. He could care less about other people's opinions of him, and in a way, Jeremy admired that.

But it just wasn't enough for him.

And this was the one aspect that seperated the two so much.

Michael could care less about popularity. Whilst Jeremy? It was all he could care about.

So he knew Michael would never understand him.

That he had wasted all eternity being a loser.

"I mean with my history, I would say that the universe owed me more. And look, I don't know about your friend's brother or whatever, but if you're telling me that the squip made him crazy-"

"The squip didn't make him crazy!" Michael stopped him, stepping forward and walking towards him, seething in anger.

"Alright well there you go!" Jeremy scoffed, looking away.

"HE WENT CRAZY TRYING TO GET IT OUT!"

Michael's voice echoed throughout the bathroom. He had his fists clamped on Jeremy's collar, his grip hardening. He stared straight into Jeremy's eyes, their faces barely inches apart.

Jeremy's expression was unwavering.

Michael's words were nothing.

"Well then, I got nothing to worry about. Why would I want that?" Jeremy huffed, pushing past him. He just wanted to get this conversation over with.

Michael stood in front of him, the same hardened expression on his face.

"C'mon man, move it." Jeremy hissed, glaring at him.

"Or you'll what?" Michael challenged, a small smirk on his lips.

I'm done. I'm done. I'm DONE.

I'm done being the weirdo. The wuss. The underdog. Being the misfit. The oldschool analogue. Being the oddball. The weakling. FREAK. The failure! The sucker! The PLEASE-DON'T-SPEAK!

I'm ready. Set.

I'm player one.

"Get out of my way. Loser."