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There were many things that Mike could not accept in his life.
He couldn't accept that Hannah had become one of those monsters, hellbent on murdering him and all of their friends. How Beth had died in the fall, how they had fell because of his stupid insensitive role in a prank that to any logical mind would have been so clearly against. How he treated one of his friends with such cruelty and how it led to their apparent demise. How he spent every day since then wallowing in guilt.
And just as he had accepted their deaths, he immediately had that comfort torn away as Hannah now chased them in the woods, a thin, pale and twisted impression of a once kind and loving young girl. How his stomach twisted in guilt when Sam lifted a familliar watch from a grave with tearful eyes.
His mind had screamed at him.
All your fault.
He couldn't accept how he had stood and hid like a coward as Josh was dragged off to the same fate as his little sister. How Josh yelled and cried in agony, in confusion, in terror.
Mike had realised later, when he finally sat in his bed again, that Josh probably hadn't even known it was real, watching the purples and blues of a new bruise develop into a black eye in a mirror across the room.
He sustained a few bruises, and a bloody nose out in the snow in the light of a blazing building.
'What the fuck do you mean he's gone?!' Blue eyes filled with despair and fury. 'YOU FUCKER! YOU FUCKING LEFT HIM!'
Mike's mind screamed again, Sam finally getting a hold on Chris.
All your fault.
Even now, as Mike lay awake in bed, a whole year after the event, his empty home was all but quiet.
Your fault your fault your fault-
Mike sat up abruptly, shaking his head like it'd clear his mind.
His apartment was quiet again. He couldn't take it anymore, picking his phone up.
He opened up the groupchat- a conversation from last night between Emily and Josh about art managed to draw a smile from Mike, taking a moment to read it over before he began to type.
Cowboy: Anyone free 2day?
Gingerbread: Sorry Mike, me and the girlies hanging out x
Cowboy: Thats cool, dw :)
Christmas: Same here bro, me and Josh r gonna watch movies all day.
Gingerbread: Gay.
Cowboy: Oo have fun
Cowboy: And yeah gay :P
Christmas: Shut UPPPP!!!
Cat-Demon: I agree with Mike and Ash dude. Ur so gay for this.
Gingerbread: :O
Gingerbread: Betrayal!
Christmas: My boyfriend is calling me gay this is bullying.
Cat-Demon: Okay seeya all WE R GONNA GO WATCH THE MOVIES NOW.
Cowboy: Bye! Have fun!
Gingerbread: Wear protection.
Christmas: Bye Mike! Fuck you Ash!
The chat died off after that, and Mike dropped his phone onto the bedside, dropping his legs down to step onto the floor.
He had a shower, then stood in front of his closet debating what shirt he was going to throw on.
Every day he'd do this. His friends joked about how long it'd take for him to get ready everyday, assuming it was part of his usual popular fuckboy self-centred persona.
I wish.
If he was completely honest with himself, it was more that he didn't like his clothes. He hated the way he presented, the horrible twisting feeling in his chest when he appeared to his friends in the same way he always had.
As a man.
It was another thing Mike couldn't accept about themself.
Sighing, they picked out a red shirt, watching as they buttoned it up in their mirror.
This feeling was something they'd dealt with their whole life- their parents were all sorts of phobic, and them being bisexual was already more than they wanted to hear.
So nobody got to know.
They hadn't told even one of their friends. Not even the ones they knew would understand, because they weren't sure they'd all believe them.
Mike had put so much into their performance as a shitty cisdude that they weren't sure they could get rid of that reputation in their group.
Guess it's a secret I'm taking to my grave. Heh.
After another hour or so of moping around, something did occur to Mike.
Sure, they could never be themself openly.
But they could do it in secret.
There was a clothing shop on the mainstreet nearby.
And everyone was busy, so nobody would spot them.
It was perfect.
Mind made up, Mike threw on their boots and jacket.