Falling Away

Chapter Thirteen: this is the new year and i don't feel any different

A/N: The gift-giving scene between the members of Mission for Recognition was written at a time when I was feeling extremely weird, so pardon the pervertedness of my mind. Please and thank you.

Interesting things actually happen in this chapter!

I wrote the Mission for Recognition lyrics. Now that I think about it, maybe I should've used other people's songs instead of writing my own lyrics because maybe then they wouldn't suck so badly. Haha.

I don't know if you all had realized the supreme lack of Grandmere but let's just say she went back to Europe.

This is for National Brandy Day! Yay!

---

"Michael Robert Moscovitz! Get off your ass and open this door right now!" On the morning of December 31st, Michael lay face down on the couch in the sitting room, deep in slumber. Lilly Moscovitz stood in front of the loft, pounding on the door. "I will seriously knock down this door if you don't open it!" Max walked out of his bedroom, confused. He had just woken up seconds before and the sun shining in through the open windows was hurting his eyes.

He walked to the door, curious as to who could be pounding on it so early. It was twelve thirty p.m. for Christ's sake. Why couldn't people have common courtesy as to not disturb others? He opened the door and was surprised to see Lilly standing in front of him. "Max! Where the hell is Michael?" Lilly asked, sounding impatient. In the lights shining down from the ceiling, Lilly reminded Max vaguely of a dark-haired angel, glasses and all.

"L-L-Lilly?" Max said, still half-asleep. "What are you doing here?" He added, obviously not comprehending what she had said before in his sleepy state of mind. Lilly looked at him as if he was an incompetent excuse for a human being.

"I need to speak to Michael. Where is he?" Lilly said. Michael heard talking as he slowly woke up. There was a blanket on him that hadn't been there when he had fell asleep the previous night but he thought nothing of it. All he knew was that Lilly was in the loft. And he could hear her mentioning his name several times.

So, he decided to make a run for it. But how would he be able to do that without being spotted by Lilly? He quickly devised a plan. The couch he was on had its back to the front door so he could possibly crawl back to his room without being caught. Yes, Michael thought fervently, that just might work. He kept the blanket draped over his six-foot-one inch frame and slowly, very slowly, began crawling toward his bedroom.

"Uh, I don't know," Max said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Sleeping? Or he might be chowing down on pancakes down at the restaurant on the first floor. Lilly shot him an irritated, even disgusted look.

"He's in here, isn't he?" Lilly said, which caused Michael to stop crawling, in fear that he might've been in her sight. The room was quiet for a few moments but he didn't hear any footsteps approaching so he continued to crawl. And he probably would have made it to his room if it hadn't been for Shayne.

"Michael?" Shayne said, appearing from her bedroom. "Why are you…on the floor? With a blanket on you?" She looked confused, understandably so. She talked just loud enough that she caught Lilly's attention. A grimace on her face, Lilly walked past Max and into the loft. She stopped just inches before Michael's body.

"Michael. What the hell are you doing?" Lilly said, staring down at her brother's blanketed body.

"Um. I've got the f-l-double o-r?" Michael said, not much for excuses at that moment.

"God, I thought that once you actually became friends with Rooney, you would stop using references from their songs," Lilly said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Well, I just hope that you don't do it in front of them. They probably think you're geeky enough as it is."

"Dude. Get up," Shayne said, rolling her eyes as she walked by the two, toward the kitchen.

Michael reluctantly rose from the floor and faced his younger, shorter sister, the blanket over his head.

"You. Are. Such. A. Geek."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Lilly," Michael said. "Well. What is so utterly important that you had to come to the loft to discuss with me? No, wait, let me guess…you need to borrow a couple hundred bucks for tae bo lessons. No, no! You came to tell me that Pavlov chased a cat up a tree."

"You really need to get out more," Lilly said coolly. "The only reason I came over is because I thought I'd tell you that you're coming to my New Year's Eve party tonight at nine. It's at a club I rented out called Jabberjaw. This guy that digs me co-owns it."

He somehow doubted that someone "dug" his sister.

"You can't tell me where I'm going to be on New Year's," Michael said spitefully.

"Well, Mia's coming," Lilly said. His eyebrows shot way up.

"And why, I must ask, would I care if Mia is attending?" Michael said, his brows now furrowed.

"Well, are you coming or not?" Lilly inquired impatiently, her hands on her hips. Max watched the scene from behind, a cheerful, albeit sleepy, look on his unusually pale face.

"You didn't even bother if the band and I had plans for tonight! We could easily have planned to go to Julian's party or something. God. Here's a tip, Lil: Be more considerate of others," Michael said.

"But you're don't already have plans, do you?" Lilly said.

"Well…Uh. No. But that's not the point!"

"Well, it starts at nine, at Jabberjaw. I invited all of your old friends. You know. From the time when you were slightly more sane," Lilly said smugly.

"Ha ha, so hilarious."

"See you then, I guess."

"Yeah. Maybe." Lilly smiled triumphantly and quickly walked to the front door, though not before exchanging a look with Max, who was looking befuddled. He shut the door behind Lilly as she walked out. Michael took the blanket off from his head and tossed it over to one of the couches.

"We're going," Max said delightedly, apparently not aware that Lilly had seen him only in his duckie boxers. And maybe he preferred it that way.

"What? Why?" Michael said, scratching his head.

"It sounds fun," Max said. "Oh. And who's Mia?"

"No one!" Michael said before he could stop himself. He walked to his bedroom, falling onto his bed, his eyes closed tight. He absolutely refused to go. Not only because Lilly was forcing him to, or the fact that his own sister was throwing a party, but because he simply didn't want to see Mia. He couldn't see Mia.

But he knew he would probably end up going anyway.

---

Mia sat at her computer desk, looking at a Mission for Recognition fansite. She wore only a bathrobe and her hair was up in a messy bun but she paid no notice. "Shayne Tennessee Osborn was born in New York City, living next door to her future bandmate, David Richards," Mia murmured to herself, reading Shayne's biography on the website. "Her father taught her how to play the bass at age thirteen."

She reached for her cup of coffee, taking a long sip. She really wasn't looking forward to the New Year's party. Sure, she wanted to see Tina and Shameeka and all of her old friends. But Michael would be there. And, most likely, Mission for Recognition would be there. She was sure that there wouldn't be people mobbing the band but she had seen quite a few twenty-two-year-olds at a recent Strokes concert, all of them screaming something along the lines of, "I WANT TO FUCK YOU, JULIAN!" or "NICK! OH MY GOD! TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!"

Who was she going to kiss at midnight? How fucking awkward would it be to try and talk with people she hadn't seen in over four years? Her forehead creased in worry as she clicked on the link to Michael's biography, the smallest of smirks on her face. "Michael Moscovitz was born in Manhattan to a pair of psychoanalysts. Two years after his birth, his mother gave birth to Michael's younger sister, Lilly."

"Michael began playing the guitar when he was sixteen years old. By seventeen, he had mastered a plethora of instruments, including the piano, bass, drums, and tambourine." Mia only recalled too well Michael's amazing ability to play so many instruments so well. "He finally settled on playing the guitar when he started Mission for Recognition with Kristen Taylor and David Richards."

Mia sighed, exiting the website and proceeding to turn off her computer. She rose from the computer chair, strolling over to her closet. She slowly opened the doors, contemplating what to wear for the party. She wrinkled her nose as her eyes caught site of the lime green shirt she had bought back in her sophomore year of high school. She really didn't have very good fashion sense as a teenager, did she?

"Perfect," Mia murmured to herself, taking a flowy, strapless black dress out of her closet, which had been a gift from Grandmere. She could pair the black dress with a pair of fishnet tights or black tights. Her snowflake necklace and the ring she had received from Adam would both go wonderfully with the outfit. Mia smiled triumphantly, laying the dress onto her bed. She went back to her closet, taking out her favorite pastel pink tweed jacket. She set it down next to the dress. She wanted to make a good impression.

And, hopefully, she would.

---

Lilly Moscovitz had been a misunderstood child. Normally, the attention would be on the younger child but she knew, at age six, that her brother was smarter, funnier, and better looking than she was. This depressed her on so many levels but she soon began working at learning. Intelligence, it seemed, had always come to her quite easily. She was a bright child, that was obvious enough, but she had a problem with making friends. Sure, she had more friends than Michael but her parents still seemed to pay more attention to her older brother.

Until it was proven, with a test, that she was actually smarter than her brother when she was ten and he was twelve. Then, her parents finally started paying more attention to her. Now, at the age of twenty-two, she felt out of the limelight once again. Michael was in a world-famous, successful rock band. And she was back to living with her parents. That wasn't how things were supposed to work out. Living her parents would just be a temporary thing, she knew. She had written a string of political and scientific articles for the New York Times but nothing to boost her career infinitely.

She was happy for her brother. She really was. Even though he was a complete idiot.

So, as she stood in Jabberjaw, directing the caterers to the kitchens, setting out tables for the food and refreshments, she couldn't help but feel a bit odd. She was looking forward to meeting with all of her high school friends and Michael's old friends. She had recently talked to Felix and they had…

Well, she could definitely wait to tell Michael that she was going out with his old best friend.

---

Mia sat in her black limo, which was taking her to the New Year's party. "Are you sure you won't be needing me to guard you at the party, Princess Amelia?" Lars asked as he sat across from her, cellphone in hand. "Yes, very sure, Lars," Mia said softly. "Thank you anyway." He nodded, a small smile on his tan face. Mia looked out of her window, the dark of the night apparent even through the tinted windows.

"And you'll just call when you wish to be picked up, Amelia?" Lars said, looking up from the game of 'Snake' that he had been playing on his cellphone. "Yeah," Mia said, nodding. The limo suddenly stopped. The ride had been shorter than she had expected. Mia got out of the limo, her dress swishing gracefully at her ankles. The air was cold, as it should've been in the middle of the winter.

Lars closed the door behind her. Mia suddenly wished that she had chosen to wear jeans instead of her dress and black tights, her snowflake necklace dangling from her neck. Creamy lavender eyeshadow sparkled on her eyelids, her lips coated with abnormally shiny golden pink lip gloss. She could hear the music playing from inside the club, which she recognized as "Paralyzed" by Rooney. A line of what must've been fifty people stood, waiting to get inside apparently. Mia breathed deeply before walking to the end of the line, earning quite a few looks from the men, and even some women, in the line. She kept her head down, her cheeks dark pink.

"Mia? Is that you?" She heard from in front of her. Mia looked up, a gorgeous grin on her face. "Shameeka!" She exclaimed, walking forward to embrace her old friend. Shameeka looked as gorgeous as ever, her hair cut elegantly at her chin. Her honey brown eyes sparkled, though Mia didn't know if it was natural or if it was because she was crying. "I missed you so much!" Shameeka exclaimed, hugging Mia harder.

"I missed you too, Shameeka!" Mia said. "This is so surreal. We haven't seen each other in ages. How did time go by so quickly?" Mia stepped away from Shameeka and smiled at her simply amazing cream dress, a ribbon tied at the waist. "You look amazing."

"I look amazing?" Shameeka said. "You are the one that looks like a supermodel!" Which, coming from Shameeka, meant a lot, considering she had been on the cover of Vogue three times ever since she had started modeling at age nineteen. Her father had finally given up on trying to get her to go to law school.

"Well, come inside then," Shameeka said. "Your name is on the 'VIP' list."

"Oh, really?" Mia said.

"Yeah!" They walked toward the front, earning disgruntled glares from the people that had been waiting in line.

"Hey! A-Aren't you Princess Amelia?" said the bouncer at the front door, his eyes wide.

"Um. Yes. People usually call me Mia though."

"Go right in, Mia. And Ms. Taylor."

"Thanks," Shameeka said, winking at the bouncer. They walked past him and into the club. The first thing Mia noticed was the crowd of people on the dance floor. Well, Lilly sure knew how to throw a party, she guessed.

"Mia!" someone exclaimed from behind her. Mia turned around and sure enough, Lilly and Tina stood, huge grins on their faces. Tina lunged forward, smothering Mia with a hug. Boris, she was sure, was out on the dance floor, showing off his creepy dance moves, or at the bar, downing a Cosmopolitan or something equally feminine.

"Hi you guys!" Mia said, throwing her arms around Tina. They stepped away from each other, though reluctantly. Lilly, never much for affection, gave Mia a small hug.

Mia looked away for a moment and saw the one person she had been dreading most.

Michael.

---

"Heeeey, what is that?" Mia said, indicating the dark pink drink that Michael seemed to be drinking every two seconds, four other glasses of the drink in front of him. It was an odd situation, them being alone in a dimly lit room but it was probably destiny. Mia, Shameeka, Tina, and Lilly, after all of them had hugged each other, had found a table and ordered a round of drinks. By her fourth tequila, Mia was feeling more than woozy. Max, some guy from Michael's band, had taken Lilly away from the girls and to the dance floor, where she was dancing angrily. She stepped on his feet every few seconds, totally on purpose, while Felix Matthews stood from a distance, glaring. Boris had walked over to the table the minute Lilly had left, planting a kiss on Tina's cheek.

Mia had looked around the club, Michael no longer to be found. Maybe he had left. But the rest of his bandmates, she noticed, were still there. Kristen and Shayne were dancing provocatively on the dance floor with overly handsome guys. David sat alone at the bar, writing in a notebook.

But she still couldn't find Michael. She had lost her focus from the lack of sobriety.

Why did she even care that she couldn't find Michael? She didn't care about him anymore; not in the least. He had broken her heart at fifteen and didn't even fucking care about her anymore probably.

But she did care. And she hated herself for it.

"I-I-I'm going to the b-bathroom," Mia slurred, rising from the chair.

"Okay, do you need some help?" Shameeka said, the only sober one.

"N-N-No," Mia stammered, walking away. Now, where was the bathroom? She walked past the dance floor, not before being approached by some slimy guy.

"Hey, sexy," He said. "Where do you think you're going? Wanna dance?"

"God, no," Mia said. "F-Fuck off."

"No need to use language, baby," He said, smiling.

"Go away!" Mia said. She pushed him away, running to what she thought was the bathroom. She opened the door, walked inside without looking, and closed it behind her. Her eyes closed, her back on the door.

"Mia?" Mia opened her eyes and was surprised to see that the one person she had wanted to see least, the one person she had wanted to see most, was sitting in the room, a drink in hand. He, she noticed, didn't look so sober himself. Drinking to wash the pain away.

"Michael? Is that you?" Mia said, clutching her stomach.

"Yeah. Are you okay?" He said, his voice huskier than usual.

"Um. Um. Um. Yes," Mia had stuttered, her eyes confused. She sat down across from Michael, though quite a distance away. And they had proceeded to sit in silence until she broke it with one question.

"A tartini," Michael said, looking down at his drink.

"A what?"

"A cranberry flavored vodka. Haven't you ever seen Sex and the City?" Michael said.

"And you have?"

"Hey, I happen to be very in touch with my feminine side," Michael said indignantly. "Do you want to try some?"

"Sure," Mia said, reaching out to take the glass. She tipped a small amount into her mouth, the liquid hitting her teeth, washing over her tongue.

"Good?" Michael said, his eyes half-closed.

"Yeah," She said, giving the glass back to Michael. They sat in silence once again, both of their eyes closed.

"Michael," Mia said before she could stop herself. She lay down on the dirty ground, not caring about anything anymore, much less her dress. She kept her eyes closed, trying to fall asleep. It was an unsuccessful attempt. "I missed you."

"W-What?" Michael said.

"I missed you," Mia repeated, not aware of the words that may have been slipping out of her mouth.

"I…I missed you too, Mia," Michael said gently, his eyes downcast at this point.

"Then why did you break my heart, Michael? I loved you so much. I loved you more than anyone, even Fat Louie! I lost my fucking virginity to you and you break up with me two weeks later. What the hell was up with that?" She spoke in a languid voice.

"I don't know," Michael lied, downing the rest of his tartini miserably.

"Yes, you do. Don't lie to me," Mia continued in the same lucid, sleepy voice. She wondered in the back of her mind if someone had spiked her drink with Ecstasy or something equally entrancing.

"I couldn't handle it anymore," Michael said, stuck in the same drowsy stupor that Mia seemed to be stuck in. "When we made love, it was so…so phenomenal. But I wasn't ready. I knew I wasn't ready but I did it anyway. I loved you so much. So, so much. More than anything, Mia. More than anything in the world, I loved you."

"When I broke your heart, I broke mine too. I saw you in Central Park the day before I moved into my dorm at Columbia…You were hugging someone…Some guy."

"René?" Mia mumbled. "He was leaving for Genovia. I was hug-hug-hugging him."

"Who…who was he?"

"M-M-My cousin…distant cousin…" Michael felt his heart drop.

"Do you love him?" Michael said dreamily.

"Who?"

"You know who…Adam…"

"Oh…I dunno…He gave me this ring before he left…"

"He left?…"

"Yesssss. He left on Christmas for Euuurrrope. His mother is dyyyyying."

"Oh. That's shitty," He replied bluntly.

"Yeah yeah yeah."

"Mmm, I loved you so much. I missed you so much. You and your cherry chapstick…Mmmm…"

"I loved you too…Oh, I used to think you were so-s-so perfect…Y-You were perfect, Michael. Oh, I loved how your hair fell in your eyes whenever you'd luh-looked up at me…Oh, and you al-al-always smelled like soap. Mmm…I loved you. My heart broke and I hated you for that…I tried to convince myself that I hated you…But, Michael…Michael…"

"Yeaaaahh?"

"I've always luh-luh-loved you…"

"Me too…Mia…whenever I would fuck those other girls…I-I couldn't stop thinking about yooooooou. Only yooooou."

"Then why did you fuuuuck them all?"

"I d-didn't want to be alone?" Michael said, more as a question than a response.

"Oh, Michael…we were so per-perfect together…whaaaaat happpppened?"

"I dunnoo, Miiiia," Michael said, slowly crawling toward Mia.

"Sooooo, if we hadn't had seeeex, we might have staaayed together…?"

"Mmm, I dunno." He lay down next to her, facing her back. He gently stroked her silky blonde hair. She curled up, hugging herself.

He wrapped his arms around her body, burying his face in her soft hair.

"TEN!" They heard from outside, in the club. The countdown to the New Year. He tried his best to stand up, which took him a second or two. He pulled Mia up as best as he could. They looked into each other's eyes, holding each other's hands for support.

"SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

"Happy Neeew…Year, Mia," Michael whispered. His warm breath cascaded over her face, sending shivers up her spine. They were much too close by this point. Closer than exes should've been several seconds before the New Year. Much, much too close…"

"Happy New Year, Michael."

"TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Mia mashed her lips against Michael's, her arms now around his neck. They were closer than they had been in over six years. He was taken by surprise as they kissed and kissed, her lip gloss smearing all over Michael's face. Their lips had collided in moist, messy perfection. As they kissed and kissed, Mia felt her heart sink. She was cheating on Adam. With Michael of all people! The one person she had been trying to avoid for so long. And suddenly she didn't care.

All she knew that all she wanted to do was kiss him until she couldn't kiss anymore.