He only came to this party because Emma told him to. He doesn't even like these guys. He thinks some of them were on the football team with him, but he can't remember anymore. They all blurred together once he realized it was all bullshit.
Some of them remember him, though. They clap him hard on the back, ribbing him for leaving "the best team in the state" and turning into "some kind of Bam Margera rip off". Michael just rolls his eyes and takes another hit of the bong being passed around. If he has to be here, he might as well get the most out of it.
Everyone knows when Emma arrives because Emma brings cheers for the good booze. Her fake ID has paid for itself thrice over at this point, it's kind of the only time most people outside of their friend group talks to them.
Emma's an... okay friend. She's actually pretty shitty, Michael thinks, but everyone else seems to be okay with that. She's rude, she's loud, and she's always trying to get him to smoke cigarettes even when he says no. Something about her makes his skin itch.
But,
Emma has a fake ID, so, he'll do what he must.
She makes her way towards him through the crowd, the silver of her face piercing's reflect the neon lights and strobes.
"MIKEY!" She shouts and ruffles his hair, pulling out a few strands with her rings when she retreats. He doesn't bother telling her off anymore, just rolls his eyes.
"Hey, you're 14, right?" She says too loud in his ear.
"15. You were at my birthday party, Emma." He replies quietly, smoke curling from his mouth. She waves her hand dismissively.
"Sure, yeah, anyway, I've got someone I want you to meet. Make sure she feels real welcome, yeah?" Emma grabs his forearm and he just barely hands the bong off to one of the others in the circle before dropping it.
Emma has a habit of picking up strays, something that Michael can't really stand. Though, she picked him up off of his skateboard by his scruff when he needed someone most, so maybe he should lay off a bit...
Nah.
He looks around with lidded eyes through the haze and neon, trying to see which slacker Emma found now.
"This," She grabs a pink haired girl by the arm. "Is Rebecca." Emma smiles, wide and sharp in a way that crinkles her eyes before fucking off again to... wherever.
She's pretty, Mike thinks immediately, and something about her tickles the back of his brain cause she looks kind of familiar. He gives her a small smile.
"Hi, I'm Michael. You can call me Mike, if you want." He offers her his hand. She looks at it for a minute, face impassive, before giving him a shy smile and shaking it once. Her hands are cold despite the heat of the bodies around them.
"Call me Becca, then." She studies his face, a small crease between her thick brows. "Are you a Hart?" She tilts her head. Michael blinks at her, caught a little off guard.
"I-I mean, yeah, how'd you know?" Her cheeks get a little pink. "Your sister, Vivienne? She, uh, she works with my dad." That's when it clicks.
Prince.
Rebecca Prince.
Of course he knows her, he's met her dad a few times and all he remembers was how he talked about his daughter. Like she was a pet who kept misbehaving. Michael always thought it was weird, but, hey, he doesn't have to live with him. He deals with that enough at his own home.
"I'm surprised you know Emma." He says instead. "I always thought you hung out with the other country club kids." Rebecca huffs a small laugh. "Yeah, uh, not really. And I kind of just met her last week? She's really cool, though." Mike hums, not ready to burst her bubble quite yet.
They stand in an awkward silence for a minute until Mike sighs. Looks like Emma stuck him with babysitting the newbie.
"Do you want to get a drink?" He tilts his head at her. Rebecca hesitantly nods and follows him to the kitchen past people smoking, laughing, and drinking.
"So, what's your drink of choice?" He opens up the fridge, letting the cold light paint his face. Rebecca bites her lip as she observes, then leans in to whisper in his ear.
"I, um, I've never... done this before." She admits quietly.
"Really? Huh. I would've figured... I mean, you're pretty popular." Michael shrugs. He remembers a lot of locker room talk about her. Specifically her, ahem, assets. Not that Michael ever engaged in that. His mom taught him better. Rebecca just shrugs. He takes pity on her and hands her a Smirnoff.
"Here. These are pretty good. Just, y'know, drink water." He gives her an awkward smile which she returns with a shy one of her own.
"Thanks, Mike."
---------------------------------
One thing becomes clear to him by the end of the night.
Becca is awesome.
She's so funny once she lets her hair down and gets comfortable. She's sharp and witty, and she flirts with everything that moves in a way that leaves everyone feeling good. She commands the attention of the room effortlessly, spinning anecdotes about a friend of a friend that leaves the people around her in stitches.
Mike feels honored that he's at her side. She stayed next to him all night, leaning on him to laugh and whisper little jokes into his ear. It feels good, that he's got the coolest girl here cracking up next to him.
"MIKEY!" Comes Emma's raspy voice. She wraps an arm around Rebecca's shoulder and pulls her to her chest, pouting as she sets her chin on Becca's shoulder.
"Rebeccaaaaaaaa~!" She whines. "You left me all alone! I've been waiting for you on the porch all night." Michael rolls his eyes. One of the older kids probably cut her off so she needs Rebecca to get her something. Becca looks caught off guard and mumbles something that gets lost in the music. Emma huffs and starts to pull her away from him.
"Hey, wait-" Michael grabs Rebecca's hand that's not holding her drink. Her eyes are wide when she looks at him and his cheeks redden. He hopes to God the neon lights wash it out. "Becca actually wanted me to show her how to smoke."
Emma looks at him skeptically. "Oh, yeah? She already knows cause I taught her." She puffs her cheeks out. Becca shuffles on her feet for a moment, looking between him and Emma. Michael doesn't like it. It's like her light dims around Emma's.
"Not cigarettes, Em, a joint." He looks at Rebecca meaningfully, offering the best out he can think of. Emma doesn't smoke those after she greened out at a frat party. Michael knows cause he had to clean up after her. She bites her lip before nodding and pulling out of Emma's hold. The older girl's eyes narrow for a moment before she rolls them.
"Whatever, I'm gonna go see what Travis or Trevor or whatever is up to." She flicks her hair over her shoulder and leaves behind the smell of nicotine and roses.
Rebecca glances at him, still holding his hand. She studies his face before leaning in slightly.
"Can we go somewhere more private?" She whispers in his ear. "I think I need a second." Michael nods and leads her through the crowd with a steady hand at the small of her back.
They find an unoccupied study, the thick bookshelves muffling the music downstairs. He sits her down on the arm chair and leans against the desk next to her.
"Are... you okay?" He asks quietly, studying the flush from alcohol on her cheeks.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good, I just, y'know, I've had it turned on for too long." She mumbles, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Michael raises an eyebrow at her.
"You're turned on?" He asks hesitantly, not sure if he understood her.
She nods. "Yeah. Like, there's me, Becca, or there's me, Rebecca. I've been Rebecca a little too long. Need to be Becca for a bit." She nods to herself and rests her forehead against her arm.
"You're really nice, Mike." She mumbles. He huffs a small laugh. "You're nice, too, Becca." "Are we friends?" That makes him chuckle. "Yeah, I'd say so. If you want to be, at least." Becca smiles softly at him and nods. "Yeah, I'd like that. I've never had friends before."
He studies her for a minute.
She's pretty, in a preppy, cheerleader kind of way. He knows she's smart, she always answers correctly in class, and he just saw how she commanded the room effortlessly.
"Well," He hesitantly pats her shoulder. "I'm honored to be your first."
Becca smiles softly up at him and covers his hand with hers and Michael can't help but smile back.
I've sort of gotten a little obsessed on the Big Brother mod for a while
So.
I introduce to you Michael Hart
Older brother-in-all-but-blood to Keith
He's 5'11, 40 years old (I know right? What's his secret?) and loves any type of hard rock and metal. He's naturally blonde, but he started dying his hair at a young age. He was actually Keith's motivation to getting his hair dyed as a teen, but his parents didn't allow him to until he finished high school. Michael was Keith's biggest supporter (besides Cherry later in high school) growing up, always encouraging the younger lad to never give up on his music. They would play music together with their own guitars, and often make joke songs about some of their classmates.
He grew up in the small town alongside Keith, having met in kindergarten and becoming very close to the younger boy. They became practically inseparable, and he watched as Keith eventually outgrew him in height, something he always teases Michael about. Michael had a better relationship with the Burlington family than he did with his own single father, who often neglected him after his mother passed away giving birth to him. His father's short temper, frequent outbursts and alcoholism ended up resulting in Michael developing severe anxiety and PSTD of whenever he'd lash out. Although it wasn't directly at him, witnessing it was traumatizing to him as a young child.
Mr. Hart passed away due to intoxication when Michael turned 21, and he'd move out of his old home to live next door to the Burlington household with the cat he found stranded as a kitten on the side of a road one morning after his usual jog. He works full time at the nearest convenience store as a cashier, and part time at Mrs. Burlington's flower shop as a side gig. Often times he'll help Scott and Michaela farm in their yard as a hobby in the weekends.
Although they don't see each other as often anymore now that Keith moved away to the city, Michael still loves his big little buddy to death. Maybe one day he'd go visit Keith in Philly... maybe.
Michael Hart, a no good, washed up idiot with zero prospects. The kid has so much smarts, he's just so damn lazy. Why can't he be like his siblings? He had all the same resources as them. It's cause you coddled him, I tell you. You shouldn't have given him that god damn safety blanket. He takes advantage of you, Ruby. With God as my witness, one more screw up, I'm throwing him out.
