He Had It Coming

[Michelle Kinsley]

He only had himself to blame. If you'd have been there - if you had seen it - I bet you you would have done the same.

....but Michelle hadn't been there. Instead, she was acting on behalf of her brother who had seen it, even though he probably wasn't as hell-bent on vengeance as she was. From the details he described, and the intensity of his depression, it was almost as if Michelle had been there.

So, she entered the playground quietly, listening to the creaks of swings that barely registered behind the sound of her own heartbeat. She scoped the area and looked for Zeke, who had most likely shown up already - considering that he had a car, and it took her ten minutes to walk to the park.

Where was he?

[Zeke Nayakan]

Ezekiel decided not to drive. After all, he only lived about 20 minutes from the park where Michelle wanted to meet, and she had given him thirty minutes to get there. He would have driven were it not for the fact that he needed to think. He needed a few extra minutes to get his thoughts straight, make sure he didn’t say anything stupid. He was talking with Michelle Kinsley. She would pick out every little flaw he had if it made things better for her brother. He kept reminding himself that she was doing this to protect her brother.

As he arrived in the park it didn’t take him very long to spot who he was looking for. Just seeing her there was enough to stop him in his tracks by the realization of what this meant. That he wasn’t meeting with Marcoh because Marcoh wouldn’t speak to him. It was upsetting, to say the least, but he had to keep going.

“Hey,” he said, coming up behind Michelle, waiting for her to make the first move.

[Michelle Kinsley]

“Hey,” he said, coming up behind Michelle, waiting for her to make the first move.

Michelle whirled around and saw Zeke standing behind her, wary and apparently waiting for her to make the first move. So, without any hesitation, she did make that move - the move to punch him in the face. She didn't care where it landed, just that it hit him and it hurt.

Drawing back to let Zeke recover from any surprise or maybe pain - she had to admit, she wasn't terribly strong - Michelle allowed the rest of her anger to become verbal, since she couldn't well hold it in anymore and felt no urge to waste her energy on him.

"When Marcoh first met you, all he could talk about was this brave, gorgeous boy who'd practically saved his life from the Evans brothers. Then, when he met you again, all he could talk about was that same boy, handsome and intelligent, who wanted to actually talk to him and possibly exchange books - however nerdy that was. When you came to our house, all he could talk about afterwards was how incredible kissing you was and how much he wanted to know you and be with you, even if it meant facing his greatest fear. And when he did face that fear, at school, at homecoming - whenever he kissed you, all he could talk about was how worth it it was and how sure he was that you were entirely too perfect and how amazing he felt by your side."

Michelle caught her breath for a moment, trying to let it all sink in with Zeke. Had Marcoh been less open about his feelings toward him, she never would've gotten so angry about the cheating - would've thought Zeke was just some asshole and talked Marcoh into forgetting about him. But hearing about Zeke day in and out and knowing to what extent he meant to Marcoh made Michelle realize that Zeke had gained the ability to be more hurtful and damaging than the cruelest of bullies. And when Marcoh came home that day, a crease in his brow and the light gone from his eyes, Michelle also realized that Zeke had used his ability - something she felt she couldn't forgive him for.

"And now," she continued, "after he saw you kiss Calvin or Carl or whatever the fuck his name is, all he can do is talk about how he should've expected it, how he wasn't good enough for you in the first place. So it leaves me with one burning question, Zeke: how in the world do you plan to fix this?"

[Zeke Nayakan]

Zeke watched in disbelief as Michelle closed her hand into a fist and swung it towards him. Luckily for him he recovered his wits in just enough time to move slightly, the punch catching him in the jaw instead of the middle of his face. He wasn’t sure if his poor face could handle any more damage, not after what Christian’s father had done to him only a few weeks before, but it wasn’t that bad of a hit. More out of shock than anything, Zeke raised his hand to where Michelle’s had hit him, rubbing his face gently.

“Ow. You- you just hit me,” Zeke stated, dumbfounded.

"When Marcoh first met you, all he could talk about was this brave, gorgeous boy who'd practically saved his life from the Evans brothers. Then, when he met you again, all he could talk about was that same boy, handsome and intelligent, who wanted to actually talk to him and possibly exchange books - however nerdy that was. When you came to our house, all he could talk about afterwards was how incredible kissing you was and how much he wanted to know you and be with you, even if it meant facing his greatest fear. And when he did face that fear, at school, at homecoming - whenever he kissed you, all he could talk about was how worth it it was and how sure he was that you were entirely too perfect and how amazing he felt by your side."

It was all Zeke could do to keep himself rooted there, listening to Michelle tell him everything that her brother had confided in her over the course of their brief relationship. She spoke of how Marcoh had admired him, idolized him… how much he loved him. Of course, Zeke had known that he had made an impact on Marcoh’s life, but he had no idea how highly Marcoh had been speaking of him to other people. The fact that he had told all of this to Michelle really touched Zeke, and by the time she had finished this little tale he was blinking back tears. He hated himself more in that moment than he had ever hated anyone or anything before. Marcoh had entrusted him with his heart, and Zeke had been careless in his actions. And for this, he doubted that he could ever forgive himself.

"And now, after he saw you kiss Calvin or Carl or whatever the fuck his name is, all he can do is talk about how he should've expected it, how he wasn't good enough for you in the first place. So it leaves me with one burning question, Zeke: how in the world do you plan to fix this?"

Marcoh should have expected it? He thought he wasn’t good enough? It was after these statement that the dam burst, and Zeke was no longer able to hold back the liquid that had been threatening to fall from behind his closed eyes. As he opened them he felt the trail of water run down each of his cheeks. He brought a weary hand up to his face to wipe them away from the spot where Michelle had just punched him. He hated showing these emotions, hated letting Michelle see how vulnerable he really was, when he worked so hard to always keep a stoic disposition. Surprisingly, none of that seemed to matter any more. He just needed to know how to fix things.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, feeling completely and utterly helpless. “But I need to talk to him… I have to explain. He can’t think… this isn’t his fault, not at all. Hell, I don’t deserve to have him, Michelle. He’s ten times the boyfriend I’ve been… all I’ve done is cause problems.” Zeke hated to think that Marcoh might be better off without him at this point. That maybe he (Zeke) was the problem here.

“Michelle, you have to believe that I never meant to hurt him,” he repeated. “What can I do? What do you think would be best for Marcoh right now?” Zeke wanted to talk to him, to explain everything, but he was more concerned with Marcoh’s well being at this point than his own. If Marcoh needed space, then he’d give it to him. If Marcoh wanted to end things, if he wanted to pretend Zeke never existed, then he would go along with it. Zeke knew that he had screwed up big time, and wouldn’t have been surprised if Marcoh never trusted him again. He just needed to know that he would be okay now, that he would be taken care of. Zeke needed to do what was best for Marcoh, and no one knew what that would be better than Michelle.

[Michelle Kinsley]

Holy shit.

Zeke was actually crying.

Michelle did not expect it - not from Zeke. The guy seemed pretty much unbreakable and here he was, melting in her fingers. The tin man had a heart after all.

Grabbing a hold of the slippery remains that was her resolve, Michelle drew back a bit and crossed her arms, offering a bit of a regretful look. She didn't need him going all emo on her, not when they had a situation to fix.

“Michelle, you have to believe that I never meant to hurt him. What can I do? What do you think would be best for Marcoh right now?”

"...putting aside my own personal opinions, I suppose that... what he really needs is an explanation. Right now he's assumed the, "oh, it was my fault, I wasn't funny enough or cute enough" theory and what little self-esteem he had... well, gone. If you really like him, honestly have some sort of feelings for him, you need to let him know." she said, kicking at the loose woodchips underneath their feet, as to avoid eye contact. Michelle wasn't one to give actually useful advice, but she really wanted Marcoh to be happy and knew that, at the moment, achieving that would entail Zeke.

"Okay," she said quietly, stepping closer for emphasis, "here's the plan. There's a deck in our backyard that leads up to the second story, and on it, there's a door. The second window to the left of that door happens to be a window to Marcoh's room - and is also right next to his bed. And one time, I caught him reading Romeo and Juliet outloud to himself, him being Juliet and Romeo being Jake Gyllenhaal. Get the picture?"

Michelle didn't know how she came up with that sort of crap. It was almost like a gift... like the last gift in the toy drive box that not even a giftless orphan wants.