WHEN THE LIGHTS FADE OUT ,

He had been back home in New York for only a few days and already he was standing at his best friend's door with beer in his hand. Really it was strange that it had taken him this long to show up at Dan's door, beer or no beer. Mikey had missed the man a great deal and well he had wanted to show up a lot earlier - like maybe the very first night he had gotten back. But he hadn't because he didn't just want to show and fall down on his couch and fall asleep - or something of the like - touring life was hard and tiring and he had just needed a few days and nights just relaxing and keeping to himself, everyone needed a bit of that sometimes and it was difficult to get while on tour because well, there was a whole band there with you and well spending time with them was kind of needed - though a little alone time on tour never hurt anyone. But he had missed Dan and he wanted to tackle hug him a lot but of course he wasn't going to do that because men didn't do that, right? Not that he had ever cared what men were supposed to do.


Okay, so he was a little worried that Dan was going to do some stupid thing out of jealousy - he was known for it, at least when it involved Mikey. They had always had a silly rivalry that had led to some very odd jealousy induced happenings. Mikey couldn't help it that he was just that much more awesome than his childhood best friend, it wasn't his fault. But he was also hoping that Dan had missed him and could just overlook the fact that he had just come back from what had been basically a year on the road playing shows with his fairly successful and famous band and that the two of them could sit down, drink some beer and simply catch up. He had faith.


Mikey had waited until it was near dark to leave his apartment and make his way - via the liquor store - to Dan's house. He figured that there would be more of a chance that the man would be home, since he was showing up unannounced and all - he didn't want to show up and there be no-one there, wouldn't that just suck. The drive wasn't all that long - cars were great at getting one from a starting point to an ending point within a short amount of time, provided that traffic was alright. Also, he may have sped a little, just don't tell the police. By the time he arrived at Dan's it was mostly dark. He had bought more than enough beer, so he when he got out of his car to make his way to the door to Dan's place he only grabbed one six pack - he could always come back out later and get more, right? He stood at the door for a moment before raising a closed fist to knock on the door, then he simply waited for something to happen.

tagged - daniel james strider // words - 524 
notes - excitement.

There was a lone figure sitting on the top of a roof, silhouetted perfectly against the dying sun. It was small, and almost insignificant compared to the New York skyline. Almost. Almost insignificant, because the shadowed frame was the outline of Daniel Strider. The man sat with his knees folded and drawn up to his chest, hands wrapped around them and forming a clasp with his fingers. Contemplation was chiseled onto his face, his brown eyes faded from their natural brightness. Daniel was the type of person who wore a mask around other people. And he was an extroverted social butterfly - he spent a lot of his time with other people. This mask reserved for everyone else disguised even the possibility that he could be anything but happy.

Anything that could be considered a problem for Daniel, be it personal, mental, or physical, was brushed under the rug. It made it hard to pinpoint other emotions, and they usually became displaced and thrown into an overblown reaction. But even now, idle and alone, there was a certain shade of despondence that over layed all other colors in his life. He didn't like it. It wasn't enough of a problem to be a problem - it was a misplacement of positive emotions. A state of mind, that seemed to have no other solution than to wait it out, let the grey clouds drizzle until they dissipated.

He looked down at his cigarette, burning almost to the filter now. His gaze softened back up to the horizon. Even his neighborhood looked like it belonged somewhere else, thrust under the illuminated shadows of the greatest city in America. He shook his head to himself as he took another, and final, drag. He was feeling off right now, but in a few minutes he would hop back down, go inside, and watch T.V until he fell asleep. By the time he woke up, the sun would be up, and the daylight would throw all of these shadows of doubt away from his mind.

But, this did not happen. As he crushed the burning stick out in the ash tray, headlights clambered along the driveway. They were too bright to make a good look at the car visible, but he followed the vehicle as it snaked around and pressed ever closer to his house. Narrowing his eyes when he saw it approach his driveway, he glanced towards his phone. Nothing except the time and his wallpaper glared up at him. Intrigued by this mystery person, he ducked down, so he wouldn't be seen from his position on the roof. Luckily, most visitors didn't really look for anyone there - so he was confident in his invisibility. Creeping along, he stayed down even after he heard the dull clang of the car door close.

Who could it have been? There wasn't anyone he was expecting. Anyone he knew these days would have texted him before showing up at his house. The last colors of the sun were drying out as it pressed against the horizon, fading into the murky indigo color. He heard footsteps, and crept along closer. Inch by inch, little by little, he eventually made it to the slope of roof that overhung the front door. The shape was long and gangly, and eerily familiar. As the mystery person rapped their knuckles in a quick rhythym, he suddenly realized who it was.

'Mikey!' his voice boomed out from the roof, sounding loud even to him after the long moments of solitary silence he had spent. Enthusiasm washed away any negative feeling that had been inhabiting him only minutes before - he even forgot about the burning jealousy that resulted as a side effect of his time spent with his childhood friend. 'Stay right there, man! Let me just get off of here without dying. Hang tight. Is that beer? Wait no, don't answer. I'll let you in.' Excitement made the words pile out of his mouth faster than he could handle, and he scrabbled off of the roof and into his backyard with haste. 

Luckily, he made it unscathed, and practically sprinted through his house to get to the front door. Unlocking it and swinging it back with bravado, Daniel pulled his best friend into a ragged - but warm, nonetheless, - embrace. 'It's been a while! Is that beer? Oh wait, I asked that already. Wait - no, I asked that but told you not to answer. Right. I don't really need you to answer now though, I can tell that it's beer. Awesome. Come in, come in, tell all about your - what was it? Trip for concerts?' He snapped his fingers, trying to think of the word before it suddenly came to him, 'Oh right! Tour! Tell me all about your tours.' He led his best friend past the hallway, and headed straight for the couch, plopping down dramatically and looking up at the taller man. 


words: 819
tag: hayley with @mikey
notes: what do you mean, "late"?? and also, sorry for the lack of a template i am so lazy. also aslo, sorry for the spaceiness of the writing. i really don't know what my muse is doing. 

He knew that he shouldn't be surprised to hear the voice of the one person he had come to see originating from the roof, but for some reason he was slightly just that. He knew Dan well enough that he knew that he did these things - though at this point in time he did not know why he was on the roof but he was sure there was some fun and wacky reason for it. And if he had to be honest he would not be surprised if at some point in the next few hours he was up there as well, it wouldn't be the first time that he'd done something crazy with that guy. "Make sure it's without dying!" He called out, not sure whether his friend heard his or not. But he was pleased that there had been no dying when the door was opened before him and there was a very much not dead Daniel Strider in front of him. The hug was not unexpected but Mikey still seemed to be taken by surprise - it had been a while since someone had more or less attacked him with a hug. He wrapped his arms around the other man in return, the beer hitting Dan in the back as he did so, whoops. If he had it his way that hug would have lasted at least another fifteen minutes and he'd never have to leave again. But he also knew that if he was never able to leave again he would go mad and there may or may not be some murder in the house. 

"Gah, I missed your fucking rambing." Mikey said as he followed his friend into his home, somewhere that he had been so many times before but for some reason doubted his knowledge on how to get to the couch, and the fridge, even the bathroom - that was something that he could remember later. "Eh, it was alright." His tone clearly indicating that it was more than alright. "Okay, it was great, amazing, fantastic." He let himself fall onto the couch next to Dan before taking the six pack of beer and setting it on the floor next to said couch and taking two. He handed one to Dan before speaking again. "But I'm homesick, I need New York deets. What has been happening here?" Of course he wanted to talk about his trip, but he also wanted to know everything that had been happening since he had gone away. He opened his beer and took a nice long drink from it before turning his head more toward Dan. "How much did you miss me man?" He said with a small smirk on his lips. 

tagged - daniel james strider // words - 452 
notes - the latest post in the history of posts, also far too short and i'm sorry and ugh and bleh and /falls on floor..