Mikey walked down the city street, his city's street, something he had walked down more times than he could remember, but it still felt brand new every time, like he could get lost just around the next corner. Like you could take one wrong turn and end up on the other side of the city. The fact that it was a big city didn't help either. Stores that he knew and loved looked to be in a different language each time he passed them, always bringing something new and exciting, but also able to comfort you with the sights and sounds you had grown accustomed to over the years.

He had always felt sort of out of place whenever he traveled with his family, walking down unfamiliar streets in foreign countries, and ocean away from all the things that made him feel safe.

He always felt safe, though, so maybe that wasn't the right word. He remembered vividly walking down a street in Paris with his mother, looking around him in wonder at all the stores and people that he didn't know and couldn't understand, but he wanted to. Oh, how he yearned to experience this new place in the fullest, to learn all the back roads and little shortcuts, to walk into the same little coffee shop, where he went so often that he was on a first name basis with all the baristas, and they could recite his order by heart. He wanted to walk down that very street with his best friends, exchanging gossip and feeling so free, so at home, walking along that big street in the heart of Paris. To walk past shops and think nothing of it, not stop to admire everything, because he passed them everyday. And it was like that every new place they went. He wanted to explore, to maybe one day call that new, bustling, exciting city home.

And that was when it hit him, walking down the familiar, bustling street to Gees hair appointment. There was nothing different between this street and the one he had walked down in Paris. The only difference was how he thought of the street. This one he walked down without a second thought, but the one in Paris seemed different, and exciting. But really, they were relatively the same. He imagined himself as a Parisian, walking down the street in Paris he had been so infatuated with, and thinking nothing of it. Then, coming to visit this city for the first time, and walking down this street that he normally wouldn't give a second thought. But to French Mikey, this street was wonder filled, and so different to what he was used to. He wasn't sure if that thought scared or excited him. He settled on both.

"Mikey!" Gerard yanked on his arm, snapping him immediately out of his thoughts. "We're here! Get your head out of the clouds." He told him.

Mikey nodded, his mind too busy processing the new information that he had suddenly come to realize to form a verbal response of any kind.

He shuffled into the building after his mother and brother, watching as they crammed themselves into the tiny elevator.

"Sorry Mikes, you'll have to take the stairs. It's only on the fourth floor though, nothing too bad." His mother apologized as the door closed, leaving Mikey to, indeed, take the stairs. She was right though, four floors was really nothing. Mikey had what Gerard had only described as, "an unhealthy liking of walking up stairs." He supposed he wasn't wrong, but he had never quite understood what he meant when he said that. They were only steps, after all. It wasn't like they were dangerous. With that in mind, he started his ascension.

-

When Mikey walked into the salon, he saw that Gerard was already ready, excitedly talking with the woman who he was trusting with his precious locks. He pretty soon got bored of watching whatever he had been looking at when he zoned out, and took a seat beside his mother. He pulled out his phone, not really knowing what to do with it other than not look like a complete idiot, staring at the wall. At the moment, he couldn't care less what viral video of a kitten was trending, he just wanted to explore this new concept of understanding city streets within the comfort of his own brain.

"You know your phone isn't turned on, right?" Mikey was interrupted from his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice beside him. He turned his head to face the mysterious voice, and was able to put a face to the sound. The boy next to him looked to be about his age, but significantly shorter than him, which was only a given with his tall and lanky stature. The boy had jet black hair styled into a messy fringe, and olive skin. His eyes were a beautiful brown, ringed with what most assholes at his school would consider too much eyeliner to be straight.

After giving the boy a quick once-over, he responded with a highly descriptive, "I know."

"Any specific reason you're staring at nothing?" The boy asked, a faint smirk gracing his lips and one of his eyebrows slightly raised in a questioning manner.

Mikey shrugged. "Not really. I was just thinking, I guess." He then decided that he was bored with this boys stupid questions and took the conversation in a whole new direction. "I like your shirt."

The boy glanced down quickly at his "American Idiot" Green Day shirt and grinned. "Thanks. I'm Pete."

"You're welcome. Hello Pete, I'm Mikey."

"Nice to meet you Mikey."

"And you as well."

"Why are you here?" Pete asked, getting a confused expression from Mikey. "I mean, you're obviously not getting your hair done, so why come here?" He restated, explaining himself a bit more this time.

Mikey cast a quick glance at Gerard, who at the moment seemed to have his head wrapped in copious amounts of tinfoil. "I'm waiting for my brother. I think he's making sure the aliens don't steal his brain."

Pete glanced over his shoulder at Gerard, and giggled at Mikey's comment. "I think that's a safe assumption."

Mikey nodded. "Yeah."

Pete slumped back in his chair, letting out a sigh. He brushed his fingers through his bangs out of boredom. "You don't talk too much, do you?"

Mikey shrugged once again. "I guess not. It never seems that I want to say anything worth hearing."

Pete cast him a worried glance, but not questioning him about it. "I doubt that's true."

"Has anything I've said wasted your time in any way?" He questioned, shifting a little in the plastic chair. "I'm only direct and right to the point. There's no use sugar coating anything, and it only uses up the little amount of time we've been graced with upon this planet.

"You aren't one of those super religious freaks, are you?" Pete asked, making sure that this boy wasn't about to go on some lengthy spiel about the wonders of Jesus and how each day they spent on earth was a gift given to them by god.

Mikey giggled, shaking his head. "Nope, no religious freak here." He assured him. "Just someone that's spent too much time laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling into the witching hours thinking about the inevitability of death."

Pete grinned. "Amen to that!" He snickered. "Hey, next time you can't stop thinking about death, hit me up, yeah?" He joked.

Mikey giggled, and Pete decided he liked that sound. It definitely sounded like he didn't do it enough. "Well, Pete, in that case, expect a call tonight."

"I'm looking forward to it." He winked, causing Mikey's grin to widen. He was immediately cut off when he spotted Gerard having his head unwrapped.

He pointed behind Pete. "Look! Gee's almost done." He exclaimed.

"Gee?" Pete asked, looking behind him.

"Yeah, my brother. His name's Gerard." He explained.

Pete nodded, and tired from twisting his head around, sat back down normally. That didn't last long, as he immediately spun around again when heard Mikey gasp. "Oh my god! It's red!"

Gerard's hair, was, indeed, red. And very much so. It was also considerably shorter than the jet black mop it had been previously.

"I know he had said that he wanted a change, but I was thinking more along the lines of an inch off, instead of the usual half of one. Damn!" Mikey couldn't help but stare at his brother as he sauntered over, a smug smile attached to his face.

"So Mikes, whaddya think?" Gerard asked, spinning in a circle to show off his new do.

"That when you're waiting at a corner to cross a street cars are definitely going to stop for you." Mikey replied, his voice monotone.

Pete immediately started to notice the change in Mikey's demeanor, how he didn't smile and only sounded bored and lost in thought as he talked to his brother. He understood not liking your sibling, but usually you showed a bit more... emotion.

"And who's the person that you haven't managed to scare off yet?" Pete was shoved back out of his head as he noticed Gerard motioning at him, not even addressing him directly, just treating him like an, "it." Close to how someone would ask their friend what kind of dog they had when they first met it.

But before he was able to interject and prove that he was not, indeed, a brain-dead hound, Mikey started talking for him.

"This is Pete. He's pretty cool, I guess." That was it. Just a, "pretty cool, I guess." Nothing less, nothing more. But really, what was he expecting? A twelve page long sonnet, written in iambic pentameter? No. They had barely been chatting for half an hour.

"Oh. Hello, Pete. I'm sorry about my brother. I hope he hasn't convinced you that all humanity is doomed and that life isn't worth living yet." Okay, there was definitely something going on here. But again, it really wasn't his place to know.

"No, he's fine. He makes better conversation than that shelf of shampoo." He joked. Gerard didn't get it.

"Really? Huh, I would pick shampoo over this brat any day of the week." Now Pete was starting to understand where Mikey's bleak outlook of humanity came from. When you had to deal with this everyday, it couldn't be hard to hope that the apocalypse would come any day now.

He was about to say something else, but Gerard had already moved on, talking to Mikey and his mom, telling them he was ready to go. Pete saw his chance when their mom was paying, and Gerard was yapping about something or other to one of the girls that worked there. He quickly pulled out his phone, unlocking it and opening up contacts. He tapped Mikey's arm, grabbing his attention.

"Here, put your number in. I'm still looking forward to discussing how we think the world is going to end." He grinned and handed the phone to Mikey, who took it without a word and quickly typed in his info. As soon as he handed the phone back he was being dragged out the door.

Pete waved, grinning, calling a quiet, "goodbye!" Mikey simply gave a little wave, again wordless and expression unchanging.

He was forced to take the stairs. Of course.

~

Published December 25th, 2017