"Get out of my way,"

Michael faltered slightly, but he held his ground, hands curling into fists at his sides as he stared at Jeremy. If his best - former best friend - thought he was going to just let him walk out like that, Jeremy needed to think again. He'd already let this go too far. He needed to do something. Anything. It didn't matter what. Something. Something. He couldn't be as useless and helpless as he felt. He had to help his buddy. If he couldn't even do that…

"Loser."

Everything stopped.

Michael visibly flinched, staring at Jeremy through wide eyes, unable to speak. It's not him talking, He tried to console himself. The Squip… Then his thoughts turned on him. He said it was off, though. Now he just didn't know what to think. He stepped away as Jeremy walked past him, watching him go, but Jeremy wouldn't meet his gaze.

Alcohol.

He was trying to come up with any solution he could as to why Jeremy would say that. Michael had never cared about what anyone else called him, who thought he was a loser, but… But this? His best friend calling him that? Now that was a blow, and a hard one at that.

Michael felt everything shattering in that instant and he wasn't sure what to do. The door pretty much slammed shut after Jeremy and it made Michael flinch once more, backing away. Then he stopped, and lurched forward again, fingers trembling as he locked the door. Then he backed away, biting down on his lip silently.

And now he was by himself, again. Because Jeremy didn't like him anymore. Because they weren't friends anymore. Because Michael was a loser. Because Michael wasn't good enough. Because he wasn't cool enough.

But it's a two-player game, Michael thought in despair, staring at the door. Then he frowned, his gaze flickering down to the floor. But he's found someone else to play it with. He doesn't need me anymore.

He'd never felt so alone.

Jeremy was out there. And he was ignoring everything they'd been through together. Twelve years of friendship. What happened to that? How could Jeremy just throw that away? Why? Because some computer told him to? Michael had been there for Jeremy when nobody else was. Michael had been his best friend. Michael had tried to help him, to convince him there was more to life than just being cool.

But, Michael thought almost bitterly, turning away. I guess a supercomputer that can make him cool is better than someone who's trying to convince him he doesn't have to be. Michael's gaze fixed intently on the mirror, crossing forward to the sink silently.

He stared at his reflection, then almost flinched. Because Jeremy was there, standing beside him, head tilted, looking at him through the mirror. But when Michael turned to look, there was nobody there. Just himself. In a bathroom by himself.

Michael shook his head and turned away, walking over to the tub. He frowned as he climbed in, pushing himself up to one side and curling his knees up to his chest. "Everything felt fine," He mumbled, staring at the bottom of the tub. "When I was half of a pair.."

Now through no fault of mine, there's no other half there.

"And now I'm in a bathroom, at a party… All by myself." Michael sighed, and shut his eyes, feeling the tears slip down his face. Then he quickly sat up and took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. It was stupid to be crying about this. Wasn't it?

A knock at the door startled him, and he jumped, head snapping up. Then he sank down into the tub. "No, you can't come in!" He called, taking in a shaky breath and pulling the shower curtains shut, closing his eyes and turning his head away. How fair was this? He'd stuck by Jeremy for forever and now Jeremy just turned and left him. All alone. That wasn't fair. Didn't twelve years of loyalty and friendship and getting stoned in his basement together mean anything?

He heard drunken laughter from outside and it made his heart sink. Because he could hear Jeremy laughing with them. Then he heard someone singing,

"I wanna dance with somebody!"

Michael flinched,, then he bit down on his lip. And now there's noone to make fun of drunk girls with anymore, He thought desperately, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Michael.

Michael's head snapped up, eyes flickering open instantly to look around. He'd heard Jeremy's voice so clearly, but when he pulled the curtain back, of course, he was met with an empty room. No Jeremy. Of course not. Jeremy didn't care about him anymore. Now he had a new best friend. One that would help him become popular and cool.

"Good for him." Michael muttered, turning his head away again and staring at the wall. He felt the tears streaming down his face, but he didn't bother to wipe them away. It didn't matter. He'd wait and let it all out. Then he'd leave - Maybe once he was sure everyone had either left or was passed out. Yeah. Sounded like a plan. Sighing, Michael turned back and prepared to pull the shower curtain back, but he jumped, startled.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

"Oh, God," Michael whispered, gripping the shower curtain tightly and staring wide-eyed at the door. Oh, great. How long had he even been in the bathroom? Doesn't matter. He dismissed the thought as soon as it came.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

"Oh-" Michael flinched, quickly pushing himself up to get out of the tub. "Hell yeah - I'll be out soon!" The words came out in a rush.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

How were the knocks getting louder?

Oh god, why'd he leave me here alone? Michael stumbled out of the tub, keeping hold on the curtain to help him stay up. Every knock sent his head spinning violently.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Oh, okay, okay, this sucks. It's like a teenage battle zone. Michael shuddered, staring at the door, which seemed to be getting farther and farther away. Not that Michael minded. In fact, he was pretty much wishing for it to disappear. As the knocks got louder, so did his heartbeat, he noticed. Faster and faster. His chest kind of hurt now. And he felt dizzy.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

Michael nearly stopped breathing. It just got louder. And louder. Michael inhaled sharply, trying to focus on breathing, but his chest hurt. And his head. Before he knew it he'd fisted his hands into his hair, almost sinking to the floor, but he managed to stay up.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

He shouldn't have showed up.

Michael shivered as he turned, looking around desperately. Then his gaze fixed on the sink, and before he knew it he was surging forward, turning the faucet off and cupping his hands under it, throwing some water in his face. He felt a little better, pressing his now cold, wet hands to his face.

The pressure disappeared, and his heart stopped beating so wildly. He took in a shuddering breath before quickly turning back to the door. He didn't get too close before he realized they'd stopped knocking.

Oh, good.

Michael retreated back to the sink. He just wished things could be different. He wished Jeremy hadn't taken that stupid pill. He wished Rich wouldn't have suggested it. He wished the Squip thought he was cool enough.

He wished Jeremy thought he was cool enough.

Michael sighed, blinking back tears as he looked toward the mirror again. And then he saw himself - For the first time, really saw himself. He wasn't cool enough. He was just a loser. Jeremy was going through a tough time and all Michael could do was suggest they get stoned in his basement. What kind of friend was he? Jeremy deserved the Squip. He deserved so much better.

"I'm just.." Michael choked on the words, trying to push the tears back, stifle the sobs. But the tears came, and a few sobs escaped anyway. Maybe this was stupid, maybe this was why he wasn't cool, but all Michael knew was that his life had completely flipped around and his best friend hated him and… He was…

"In a bathroom, all by myself." He mumbled, gripping the sink so he didn't fall to the floor, staring at his reflection. Then he let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "Wow, is there a sadder sight?" He mumbled, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

"I wish I stayed at home in bed," Michael sighed, eyes slipping shut. "Watching cable porn." Then his mouth twisted into a grimace. God, he sounded so pitiful. So desperate.

"Or wish I offed myself instead," The words came out harshly and coldly, the anger directed mostly at himself, and it made him flinch. Did he really mean that? He couldn't even tell if he meant that. So why was he saying it? "Wish I was never born.." Then his eyes opened, staring at his reflection, at the tears streaming down his face.

His eyes hardened.

"I'm just Michael who's a loner, so he must be a stoner," He mocked himself, gasping through his tears as he backed away from the mirror, putting his glasses back on and trying to blink the tears back. "Rides a PT Cruiser, God he's such a loser!"

Loser.

Loser.

Loser.

That one word, he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life. "Michael flying solo," Michael whispered, backing up until his back hit the wall. "Who you think that you know. Michael in the bathroom…"

He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and letting himself slide down to the floor, shaking slightly at this point. Oh, who was he kidding? He was shaking pretty badly now.

"By myself." Michael choked out, pulling his knees up to his chest and crossing his arms, burying his face into them and taking in a shaky breath. "All by myself…"

He sighed and slumped down, biting down on his lip. He jumped and flinched when he heard someone knocking, but he didn't move. They'd go away after a while, probably.

Not the case this time.

"Michael?"

Michael coughed, taking in a shaky breath and lifting his head a little to look toward the door doubtfully. Jeremy?

"Michael, buddy, let me in," Another knock. "Please. I need to talk to you."

No, Michael scrambled to his feet. He was torn. Jeremy couldn't see him like this. But at the same time, he really wanted his best friend - ex best friend - right then. Michael just shook his head, covering his ears and backing away toward the tub.

"Please?" Jeremy sounded desperate. Really, really desperate. "I'm sorry, Michael, God, I'm sorry. But I don't have much time, and I-" He cut off, and there was a long pause. Then the knob started moving.

Michael just climbed into the tub and pulled the curtains shut, sinking down and wrapping his arms around himself. Go away, He begged silently, shaking his head. Go away. What did Jeremy want? Was he going to say worse? Call him useless, pathetic?

He heard the door open, and held his breath. Go away, go away, go away, He stared at the shower curtain, flinching when he heard footsteps come closer. Then he buried his face into his arms and squeezed his eyes shut.

He heard the shower curtain being pulled open, and heard a soft sigh. There was silence for a moment, then suddenly someone was climbing into the tub. Suddenly arms were wrapped around him, pulling him close.

Michael was reluctant to lean into the embrace but while he didn't move closer, he didn't pull away.

"It's okay, Mikey," Jeremy mumbled, and Michael jerked a little in surprise. He couldn't remember the last time Jeremy had called him that. Jeremy just sighed, and Michael felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry. Michael, I'm so sorry."

"I-" Michael cut off, taking in a deep, shaky breath. "I tried, Jeremy. Why - Why wasn't it good enough? Why-" He cut off, choking back another sob, and found himself slowly leaning into his best friend, twisting around slightly, gripping onto Jeremy's shirt, letting his head drop onto Jeremy's shoulder. "Why am I not-" Yeah, he couldn't continue after that. He felt a lot better with Jeremy beside him now.

"Sh," Jeremy sighed, placing a hand gently on the side of Michael's head, rubbing his cheek with his thumb and shifting over to pull Michael even closer, both arms wrapped around him. "It was good enough, you've always been good enough, Michael. I'm…" Jeremy sounded pretty close to tears now. He jumped a little, and inhaled sharply as if he was in pain, but continued anyway, "I'm sorry.."

Michael didn't say anything else, just shook his head and buried his face into Jeremy's shoulder. After a moment, he cleared his throat and finally spoke up. "You said," he muttered, "you said you didn't have much time left…"

"Oh yeah," Jeremy sighed, and seemed a little bit hesitant when he spoke next. "The Squip said… That I have to leave the party." He cleared his throat, and Michael felt him shrug. "I didn't want to leave without talking to you, though."

"Oh," Michael frowned a little at the mention of the Squip, but didn't comment on it. "I guess you should go, then."

"Yeah." But Jeremy stayed where he was for at least another minute or so. Then, finally he pulled away, and Michael watched with a frown as Jeremy climbed out of the tub. Michael was about to sink down again until Jeremy turned and extended one hand toward him.

Michael stared at his hand, then at his friend. He didn't know what expression was on his face, but it made Jeremy grin and chuckle.

"I'm not leaving you here alone again. Come on."

Michael just stared for a few seconds, but eventually he did grab Jeremy's hand, allowing his best - ex best? - friend to pull him out of the tub. And then he was pulled into a hug, and this time, he hugged him back.

"Michael?"

"Yeah..?"

Jeremy sighed, and was silent for a while. Then he pulled away, but he kept one hand on Michael's shoulder, keeping him at arm's length. Again, he inhaled sharply and jolted a little, flinching like he was in pain. Then, he gritted his teeth, and narrowed his eyes, staring at nothing in particular for a moment.

"Screw you," He mumbled to himself, and Michael almost flinched, thinking his best friend was talking to him. But then Jeremy's gaze snapped back to Michael, and his expression softened.

"You're not a loser."