Xanax, Sorrow, and Love (A Mikey Way Fanfiction)

The Candy Shop

For the first time in years, I felt wanted. It was a strange feeling, but I enjoyed it. I sat on my actual bed, in actual pajamas, and a flood of inspiration came over me that night; the night two days after I met up with Mikey at Barnes and Noble, and the night after I coincidentally met with Mikey at the diner, again. Due to my sudden wave of creativity, I wrote at least five pages of poetry in my new journal with my new writing utensils. It was nice to do something productive with my life, for once. I started to listen to music on my portable CD player, and was soon inspired to write songs of my own. It was amazing, being this creative. And it was all because of a chance encounter with a random guy in a diner. I don't like to think about where I would be if I hadn't met him.

After staring out my window and admiring the beautiful combination of small town and star lights for a while, the buzzer on my door went off. "What the fuck?" I mumbled. "Who the hell would bother to come to my apartment, let alone come to my apartment at 9:00 at night?" I stumbled through my short, dimly-lit hall and answered the door, trying to hide my embarrasing green-and-purple-polka-dots-on-cream-colored pajamas.

"Hello?" I asked. It was Mikey, and he was holding a basket overflowing with food.

"Mikey?" I asked, in disbelief. "What's all that for?"

"Well, you told me you couldn't afford food, so I got you this-"

"You really didn't need to do that, Mikey!"

"You need food, Ember,"

"But-"

"Shut up and let me make you dinner," he laughed.

I laughed and let him in. He set the basket on the counter. "Nice outfit," he said, snickering. "Shut up," I giggled.

Mikey opened the refrigerator. "A half-full jar of pickles... a pack of American cheese... and a package of lunch meat. You really can't afford food, can you? I'm sorry." He started to fill the fridge up with the food he brought. "I'll tell you what," he said. "Every other week, I'll bring another one of these, but with different stuff."

"Mikey, you don't have to do this..."

"I'm not gonna say it again," he straightened up, raised his voice and stared at me sternly. "You need food."
"Point taken. Thanks again," I said, and went to the living room to watch TV. Mikey finished stuffing the fridge and was now making Hamburger Helper in the kitchen.

Soon, the meal was done cooking. We ate dinner together, watched TV for a while, then Mikey left. "Bye, Ember," he said, hugging me. "Don't forget to eat." He fist-bumped me, and walked out of my apartment after a quick wave. Soon, I heard his car drive out of the apartment building's parking lot.

I went to bed, and stared out my window at the full moon. I drifted into sleep after about five minutes.

*******

The next morning, when I was eating the cereal Mikey gave to me the previous day, my home phone rang. I reached across the kitchen counter, grabbed the receiver, and pulled it towards me. "Mmmph-Hello?" I asked, cereal still in my mouth. "Hey Ember, it's Mikey. Just wondering if we could go someplace today. I'll pick you up in the parking lot at 8:00 if you wanna go."

I smiled. "I'd love to go! Just let me get ready and I'll be down, because it's already like 7:30."

"Haha, sorry, I'm not very good at planning. Well, see ya! Bye, Ember."

"Bye, Mikey."

You. Him. 'Friends'? Yeah. He's obvoiusly using you. "Stop!" The subconscious that wasn't entirely mine was acting up again. I went in the kitchen and took some of my new perscription medicine for schizophrenia, the one the subconscious was telling me not to take. It was silenced after I popped two with some stale, three-day-old water that happened to be on the counter.