Reactivate

Level 1

Jeremy Heere's POV

Tonight was supposed to be the best night of my life; it was me and Christine's 7 month anniversary! Well, it was shit. Guess why? She dumped me. For Jake. Of all the guys out there, she had to pick the guy who dumped her at his own party. Anyways, I might as well explain what's going on:

Well, I'm Jeremy. A couple months back I took a super computer in the shape of a pill so that I could win over Christine. That didn't go over well; the stupid thing ruined my life and almost took over my whole school. In the end, I took the risk and deactivated the thing—it's a called a SQUIP, by the way—and Christine ended up liking me for me. Whatever, a whole bunch of sappy stuff.

Turns out, the only happily ever after that came out of that was Brooke and Chloe. They're cute together, I guess. Back on topic, though. Christine dumped me. After we saw a musical—Dear Evan Hansen if you really wanted to know—we got dinner and then she broke up with me.

- Flashback brought to you by Michael making an entrance -

Holding hands, Christine and I walked into the theater. Dear Evan Hansen blinked brightly on the theater doors. Pushing my nerves away, I held the door for Christine and then closed it behind us. Finding our seats, we sat down beside each other and held hands. She seemed a bit uncomfortable by the gesture, and ended up disconnecting out fingers when the musical started.

"Dear Evan Hansen..."

By the end of the musical, Christine had worked her way away from me in her seat. It was odd and kind of hurtful, and I don't think she thought I noticed. I did. I should have thought about it—approached her about it—but I trusted her. Oh, how wrong I was.

Flash forward about thirty minutes and we're at a diner. We had just ordered so we had at least fifteen minutes to talk before the food would be coming out. Let's just say, I didn't eat my food that night. It started off simple enough; just small talk. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks; the dreadful phrase that anyone in a relationship fears;

"Jeremy? Can we... talk person to person for a moment?"

So of course, me being me, started to immediately panic. Shit, shit, shit, I'm screwed. I thought miserably, staring at her with wide eyes. "S-sure. What do you want to... 'talk' about?" I asked, my voice shaking. As much as I wanted to pretend like this wasn't a big deal, I knew it was.

Christine wouldn't meet my gaze and I knew it was game over. "You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" I asked quietly, the noise of the diner fading into the background. She still refused to meet my eyes. "Jeremy, I'm sorry... I just..." she bit her lip. "I just don't feel attracted to you anymore. I think... I think it was just my SQUIP," I winced when I heard its name—she didn't notice, though. "You. . . you think your SQUIP caused you to feel fake feelings towards me? How is that even possible? They've been deactivated for ages, Christine. There's no way in hell that they're influencing you to feel attracted to me!"

She bit her lip. "That's just the thing; I don't feel attracted to you, anymore, Jeremy. I just. . . I don't think I really ever got over Jake. Just because they're deactivated, doesn't mean they're gone, Jeremy. They're still in our brains, just off. Like. . . like if they were humans in a coma. I. . . I'm sorry," With watery eyes, Christine got up and left the table. Shocked, frustrated, devastated? I couldn't pick an emotion. Quickly standing and wiping away my watery eyes, I pulled out my phone and left the table as well. I didn't even bother paying, just left a twenty on the table and walked away.

- Flashback ended -

That about brings you to the present.

Opening my phone, the bright screen obscured my watery vision. Not even bothering to call dad to give me a ride, I quickly told Siri to, "Call Michael." It rang twice before he picked up. "Hey, Jeremy. Why are you calling? I thought you were on a date with Christine--" "Michael, are you stoned?" Silence. "Michael, what the hell? I thought you were going to give me a ride?" I should've thought this one through, to be honest. "That's right now? I thought you said you'd be out till like. . . nine or something." "Michael, it's 8:17. There's not that great of a time difference." More silence. "Ugh, fine. Same place?" "Don't drive if you're high. I'll walk. Just. . . stay put, alright?" Michael muttered a sound of agreement and I hung up.

. . .

When I got to Michael's house, I was a mess. My hair was all over, my sleeves were damp, and my eyes were blood shot. If it weren't for my tear-stained cheeks, one probably would have thought I was drunk or high. Knowing Michael, though, I probably will be in a few minutes. Knocking on the door, I yawned and slumped my shoulders. Seconds later, a stoned Michael appeared in my face. He was a bit wobbly, so I knew he had to have been doing this for a while. "Michael? You okay, bud?" I asked, trying not to piss him off. High-angry Michael is not a force to be reckoned with.

Michael stared at me for a second before dragging me inside my my collar. He dropped me roughly on the ground by one of his beanbags. Flustered, I attempted to stand, only to be pushed down by a gentle, yet forceful foot on my chest. "Where is she?" "Who? Christine? We broke--" "--Where the hell is she, Heere?" I was genuinely confused. I had never seen Michael this pissed before. In my defense, I hadn't necessarily done anything to have acquired his wrath. "She's probably with Jake. I don't know. We broke up, Michael." I grumbled, roughly shoving his foot off and standing quickly. "What the hell crawled up your ass and died? You're acting insane, Michael. It's none of your business, anyways. She's my ex-girlfriend."

Suddenly, his eyes grew to the next level of angry. "She's what?!" Running out of the house in nothing but his shirt and boxers, he snatched the keys off a table by the door and ran to his PT Cruiser. "Michael!" I yelled, running and hoping in the passenger side before he could drive away. Michael didn't speak the rest of the drive, speeding and almost driving us off the road multiple times before he got to Christine's house. When we got there, he didn't even shut the vehicle off, leaving that job for me to hastily do before running after him. I had no idea what was going on; just that my best friend is high and making a very bad decision. "Michael effing Mell!" I screamed, effectively getting his attention. Christine came running out of the house at my scream. At first, she was confused. Then she looked at Michael sadly and understood.

I ran up to Michael and grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie. In the dim light, it looked like he was blushing, but I couldn't be certain. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded, tightening my hold on his hoodie as he tried to resist. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not stupid. You are not going to hurt a hair on Christine's head!" I ordered, shoving him back in the direction of the car. "Come on, let's go back to your house," I got in the driver's side of his car and buckled in while he grouchily obeyed. "Sorry, Christine!" I managed to yell over the engine as I drove us back to his house.

When we got there, I helped him out and opened the door, forcing him to sit on the bed and talk. "Alright, what the hell just happened?" I demanded. Michael was leaning towards sober, now. His high was fading and his anger with it. He looked sleepy, but I didn't give a damn. I wanted answers and that's what I was going to get. He bit his lip, before managing a weak, "She promised me she wouldn't do anything stupid to you." He answered quietly, before falling backward and laying on the bed, passed out. I sighed, waiting for him to get up. Knowing it was going to be awhile, I stretched out next to him on the bed and fell asleep beside him. My anger was short lived, and I fell into a peaceful slumber.

A/N Damn, two fics updated in one day? That's my new record! I hope you enjoyed this, as I have great hopes for this fic!