After Midnight (a.i.)

39

"Misty!" My head snaps toward the left side of the bar. I see Michael's head hung to the side with a crooked smile while he calls out for me, tucking his hands in his jacket pocket to approach the bar. I raise my brows in expectancy, watching him slide onto the bar stool secluded on the other end of the bar. I head his way once I finish with my current patron.

"Can I help you, sir?" I tease him, tossing my bar rag over my shoulder once I'm in front of him. His arms cross on the bar top, his usual beanie carrying his hair that splayed across the top of his forehead.

"Can I get a beer, baby?" He flashes a charming smile, batting his eyelashes at me for added effect. I laugh at his girlish action.

"Of course, sweet thing." I playfully wink at him, reaching for the cooler behind me to find his preferred brand. I grab a Heineken and pop the cap for him, dropping a coaster in front of him and setting the bottle down. He smiles graciously and is quick to pull the rim to his lips.

"How's it going?" Michael asks, leaning himself forward to exclude any curious ears. I fidget with my bottle opener and smile.

"Not too bad today. It's pretty slow, as anticipated for a Thursday afternoon." I shrug casually. He hums in agreement through the mouth of his beer bottle, eyebrows raising to acknowledge my statement. "Did you have class today?"

"Only in the morning." He shakes his head with assurance, setting the beer bottle back onto the coaster with a sigh. He picks at the paper label. "Computer science ain't the fun it used to be."

"Tell me about it." I lightly laugh, reaching for my water bottle under the bar. I was tempted to make myself a vodka red bull in hopes to wake up a little bit, but I was the only one here to man the bar until Jess came in at four. And it wasn't even three in the afternoon.

"How's lover boy?" Michael asks the inevitable question, eyes full of life when he glances up to me from his seated position. My stomach flips at the mention of him, I should smack myself across the face.

"He's good. He's working almost everyday, not using and taking care of himself, so he's about as good as he can be." I tell him, fighting the grin that threatened to break on my lips.

Ashton told me last week that he planned to go to the shop more this week and actually work on cars that weren't just his. I applauded him for that, between his minimal classes and shop job that gives him plenty of freedom, I'm glad he's finding a way to be busy in a healthy way.

Michael's bright smile fades a bit from my words, his shifty eyes moving to focus on the bottle label he'd been picking at. My brows furrow at his behavior, but he covers it up by clearing his throat and looking back to me.

"That's good to hear. I'm glad someone was able to tame that bastard." He says with a quick laugh before taking another swig.

"I wouldn't necessarily say tame." I can't help but giggle at his words. As much as I don't like it, it's a little funny that his friends talk about him like he's a rabid dog. It's rude, but a little humorous. I can't lie.

"Well whatever you did, I thank you. He's not rotting on the couch all day or holed up in his room anymore. He's got more energy to live." Michael's hand stretches to mine, a gesture of gratuity on his behalf. "And he's way less of an asshole to deal with at home."

"That's good to hear." I hum with a nod, a small smile creeping on my lips at the progress he's made. It was a disheartening sight, seeing him wasting away on that couch with the life sucked out of his usually vibrant eyes, moving in slow motion and barely comprehending reality around him. He was carrying around so much pain that he didn't know how to cope with. He kept it bottled up inside like a ticking time bomb, refusing to let the timer run out and expel the feelings inside. He was alone in his internal battle, but he doesn't have to fight by himself anymore. He doesn't have to self medicate to become numb to the thoughts. And that I am eternally grateful for.