A Bet 2 // Mikey Barone

                                    

                                          






It was two weeks ago that you walked out on Mikey after you found out that your relationship started out as a bet. 




                          
Two weeks of unanswered phone calls and unopened messages. Two weeks of blatantly avoiding him.





                          
At this point, you were still wondering how your body was functioning anymore. Your heart kept shivering and stuttering around a beat. Your eyes were too red and swollen with tears. Your cheeks were a bit hollow and colorless. 






                          
That was the effect Mikey's absence had on you. 




                          
And you hated it. Your pride would not let you fall victim to anyone, even Michael Barone. 




                          
You never wanted to fall in love and get engaged. You never wanted to give up on your dreams just so his dreams could flourish. 





                          
That's not you. But you compromised anyway, because that's what happens when you loved someone. 





                          
That love left you a wailing, blubbering mess. And you couldn't wait to get out of this "funk". It just wasn't you. That's why you didn't refuse on the opportunity when your friends offered to take you out to get your mind off of things.







                          
Three drinks later you were on the dance floor with some random guy who asked you to dance. You ground against him, swinging your head from side to side, all the while trying to drown out the beating of your heart. 





                          
Every nerve in your being screamed at you that this was not the guy you were supposed to be dancing with. 






                          
Even the loud vibrating music was not enough to drown out the name that your heart was pumping, making your blood singing it victoriously.




                          
Mikey.


                          
Mikey.


                          
Mikey. 






                          
Feeling your heart clenching and unclenching in your chest, you moved away from the oblivious guy, muttering a small apology under your breath as you mindlessly shrugged on your jacket and cast a glance in your friends' way. 




                          
They were too drunk to notice you and you just assumed they were leaving with the guys they were grinding against on the dance floor.





                          
Outside, the cold night air slapped your face, making little red vessels rush to the surface of your skin, turning it pink. 




                          
Trudging the small distance from the club to your house, it was quiet, just yourself and your heart. 





                          
It beat and it begged from you to just give it the love it wants, but you swallowed it down. Maybe this separation was for the best; you were now free to pursue your dreams of becoming a journalist. Plus, you wouldn't be holding him back.





                          
As selfish and angry as you wanted to be, you couldn't deny the fact that you were the reason that had Mikey held back. If you hadn't been involved, he would have been already more successful than he is now. 





                          
Guilt still wrapped around your lungs to this day.




                          
Just as you were rounding the corner to your place, something pulls on your heart. He was here. You could feel him here. 




                          
It was all in the way your heart leapt in your chest, your fingers curled and your muscles tingled and knees went completely weak. 






                          
Mikey had that effect on you.
Seeing him slumped on the stairs leading up to your house, head cradled in his hand made what was left of your heart break all over again. 




                          
Taking your time striding to him, you gulped a huge breath before standing right in front of him, nudging his leg with your feet.





                          
"Michael," you breathed out. "What are you doing here?"
At the sound of your voice, he sprung up, hands clasping your shoulders and shaking you gently.





                          
"Y/N," your name fell from his lips as a sigh and it was a shot of pure gladness through you. 




                          
You couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. "I'm so sorry, baby. So, so sorry. I never meant for anything to start that way, but it did and I should have told you about it the moment you told me you loved me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it." He rambled on and on and you tried not to let him show the effect his touch caused.





                          
Your pulse was beating rapidly, whispering his name until you were sure his heart could hear it.



                          
You squeezed your eyes shut and tuned him out for a bit. It was a struggle; every time you recalled the kisses you shared and the touches you stole it was hard not to think they were lies. 




                          
Everything was a lie and you simply could not overlook it. For all you knew, he might be lying right now. 




                          
Lifting your hands and gripping each one of his own on your shoulders, you could feel, rather than hear, his heart breaking when you pushed them off.





                          
"I'm sorry, Mikey. But I don't believe you." You sidestepped him, walking up the stairs to unlock your door.



                          
"But I love you," his voice broke at the end of that sentence and it took all you had not to turn back around and just plant your lips upon his and take him back. But fair isn't fair, and he should suffer for what he did.





                          
"That's not enough, Mikey." You said, not turning back to look at him. Suddenly you felt his breath hitting the back of your neck, his hand clasped yours while trying to unlock the door.



                          
"I can't live without you, Y/N." Your heart pounded against your ribs, delirious at his proximity. 
But you didn't listen to it. "I'm fucking dying without you, baby." You squeezed your eyes shut and gave him utterly and absolutely nothing.





                          
Unlocking the door under his hand, you stepped away from him and into your house, stopping him when he tried to follow you. 




                          
"That's too bad, Mikey. Because I can live without you." You let out before slamming the door in his face, giving him no opportunity to reply. 




                          
Sliding down the door, you hugged your knees to your chest and the tears resumed. The truth was, you could live without him, but without him you'd be miserable at best.