He wasn't going to lie, the pressure got to him. More so than anyone else, with school work and grades, Glee club, football, dancing. He'd wake up in bed some mornings and think- 'What have I missed!'. Life was just so frantic.
Since his best friend had transferred, he felt more alone than ever. There had always been someone that got it, when Matt was with him. Someone that understood him and his family, and was good enough to say,
"Hey. Just chill a bit. Play video games with me. Get out. Come to bread sticks."
When Matt left, he was understandably sad, but they messaged each other now and again. He visited once, at the end of the holidays. He thought he'd be okay. Yet three months into the new year, and Mike was cracking at the edges.
This morning was particularly bad, as he'd woken up with a headache, and it was Glee club. Which meant dancing around and all that. He'd caught the bus, dodged the Neanderthal's chucking spaghetti in the parking lot and almost made it to first class when a first slammed into the locker beside him.
"Hey! Gay glee kid!" Came an angry voice. Mike spun round, momentarily stunned. His position on the football team had always guaranteed him a sort of protective shield from pointless intimidation and corridor insults, so why was this kid-! BANG!
"You! You listening to me!" Mike flinched as the kid's other hand bashed at the hard metal. He was big, with fuzzy hair, and growling menacingly. "You stay away from us, you hear me!? We don't wanna catch you peeping or shit!"
Mike remained silent, eyes wide, more surprised than scared. He couldn't believe this was happening, this didn't happen to people like him! Then he felt guilty for brushing aside the concerns of other Glee members who were less fortunate than himself. The big kid glared at him for another second, then pushed back violently. He let out a sort of half scoff as he sauntered away, leaving Mike staring after him wondrously in the empty corridor.
He didn't mention it to anyone at Glee club.
...
The headache was back, throbbing at his temple, like his heart had taken a temporary vacation to the inside of his skull. He groaned as he dragged himself from underneath the covers, dressed quickly and swallowed a pain-med tablet with his glass of water.
"Breakfast darling?" Called his mom as he pulled open the front door.
"I'll have it at school, I'll be late!" Mike lied. He felt sick.
The bus journey was torturous; every bump and corner seemed to be taking a sledgehammer to his head, and he held his breath every time the vehicle accelerated from traffic lights. The unfinished biology homework in his lap was going nowhere, as was that English essay lying forgotten in his bag. He would have done it yesterday, but he'd been up revising for chemistry all night and gone and fallen asleep at his desk. The bus screeched to a halt, and he swore under his breath at the jolting pain, then swore again, but louder, as some girl knocked into his shoulder causing his papers and pens to spill out of his lap. He watched them roll across the floor and underneath seats, getting trampled and crumpled in the mad rush. Clambering down onto hands and knees, he began the slow process of picking them up again.
...
"Late! Mike Chang!" Screamed the teacher, as he shuffled into the classroom. He felt drained, and probably looked it too. He'd get more sleep tonight, he promised himself. "Mike! Are you listening to me?"
"Huh?" He looked up blearily. The rest of the class snickered at him.
"Your Math test Mr Chang. You got a B, I'm disappointed in you."
A B?
B?
Mike felt his blood freeze. There was no way that this was how his day was going to begin. This was just not possible. An A- was bad enough in the eyes of his father, if it dropped below... No. This had to be a dream. He was obviously exhausted enough: he'd most likely drifted off at his desk and this was all just a horrible nightmare. He was dizzy. This wasn't real? If the kid on the front row had red eyes, then it wasn't real? They were all looking at him. Funny eyes. Funny eyes.
He took a deep breath. His desk was over there, he'd just... float over and...
"Mike Chang. You can sit down now. I'll be speaking to you after the lesson."
"Yes... Miss." He slumped into the comfort of his plastic seat.
...
Glee club was fun, a chance to put behind the bad events of the day. His dizzy spell in the morning was freaky, but the caffeine infused hot drink he'd bartered for at lunch had perked him right up again. He'd spent break and lunch in the library studying: he had a plan. No way was he going to let his father know about his failed grade on the math paper. It would be a death sentence. He'd pleaded with his teacher not to let it count against his other grades, and promised to study harder. She'd seemed surprised, but was happy to agree. Encouraged to do his best, Mike threw himself into revision, and pushed himself extra hard with his dance moves just to passive agressively prove to his father that he was strong enougth to do both.
"You're on top today, Mike!" Congratulated Mr Shue, as he spun around the room. Brittney smiled at him as they entered into a lively footwork routine.
...
He left school through the back entrance, as he wanted to walk the short way home this time, rather than along with the other Glee members. As he passed though the gates, it began to drizzle, so he flipped his hood up against the rain. It was probably for this reason that he didn't notice the two guys leaning against the railings until he was roughly grabbed by the shoulder. There was a ringing thud as he hit the bars.
"Don't think this is over Chang."
To be continued...