You remembered exactly what Michael was like before he turned goth. After all, both of you had been together since you were five. Your mom's friend came over with her son. You saw your mom greeting your friend at the door. You went to the door where your mother was standing.

"Mom, who's that?"

"Oh. (Y/N). This is Mrs Rogers and this is her son, Michael."

Behind the Asian lady, a little boy was hiding behind her. He has a pale complexion like his mother and short, fluffy curly black hair with a noticeably big nose. You vividly remembered that he wore a light blue T-shirt and beige shorts at that time. Nothing remotely black. That was the kid you would soon call your precious childhood friend.

"Hi Michael, you waved at him, "I'm (Y/N)."

Michael hid behind his mother once more, looking very hesitant. You could see a pink tint forming on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Mrs Rogers apologised, "My son is really shy."

"That's ok Mrs Rogers," you replied.

You flashed a small smile at the curly haired boy, "If you're up for it, do you wanna come to my room and play?"

Michael stood there speechless for a bit before nodding slowly. While your mom and Mrs Rogers were having tea in the living room, you and Michael spent the whole afternoon in your room playing with the toys you had. At first, he was really quiet when you guys first played together but as time passes he eventually began to talk more which made you so happy that he's opening up to you. He said he loves spending time with you. Whenever you both are reading a book together, he would lean at your side, with his cheeks squished at your shoulder. It's just so cute! To be honest, you find a lot of things adorable about Michael. The way he would look away when he's feeling shy, his smile, the way he would giggle when you said something funny, how he would blush a dark shade of red when you compliment him, everything about Michael was just so cute!

However when you turned eight while Michael was nine, you began to notice that something changed in Michael. He was quieter and gloomier than usual. That was something you worry about. He would mostly sit in the corner of the cafeteria all by himself looking more dejected than his usual self, as though he was hiding something. When you asked what's the matter, he just remained silent. Nonetheless, you still stood by him because you knew he was feeling down lately so obviously you have to be his source of comfort.

"I want to fix what's hurting you Michael. If you don't wanna talk about it, can I at least stay here with you?"

He didn't say anything which was something you grew used to but it was a yes on Michael's part. In the end, you both sat in silence together with your arm wrapped around Michael's shoulder. At times, his head would lean on your shoulder and he'd fall asleep.

Later on, you saw it with your own eyes. Some of the kids were throwing spitballs at Michael. The rest were pointing and laughing at Michael's pain. Others were calling him names. Michael was being bullied.

"Take that Big Nose!"

"Ugly big nosed freak!"

"You look like a goblin if you're born with a nose that huge!"

"Your hair looks like some birds built a nest out of it and shat in it!"

You quickly pushed through the crowd of bullies in an effort to save Michael, "Hey! Stop that! Leave him alone!"

You grabbed Michael's hand and led him out of the circle bullies, "Come on! Let's get out of here!"

Both of you ran outside to the loading dock where there was no one in sight. You gave him a handkerchief so he can wipe the spitballs off his face.

"Why didn't you tell me the other kids are bullying you?" you exclaimed.

"I can handle it on my own," grunted Michael while not meeting your gaze. He wiped off the remaining spitballs, "My problems are my own. You don't need to butt in."

"It is my business Michael! I don't want you to get hurt."

"Neither do I!" he retorted, "For some reason, they all had this genius idea to pick on me solely for my looks! Like come on! I'm more than just my big nose and curly hair! It seems that they'll always find someone unattractive to shit on just to feel better about themselves!"

"I don't think you look that bad," you commented.

You could see that struck a chord in Michael. He scowled, turning pink in the face. "You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better about myself (Y/N)," he scoffed.

"No dude. I'm telling the truth. You look fine to me."

Michael gave you the most sceptical look ever, "I'm telling you man. I know you're saying this to make me feel better. So just drop it."

"Hey I'm being serious here. Look, who cares if they think you're ugly. You don't have a small nose. So what? Lots of people have big noses like you. And I love your hair. It's so big and fluffy!"

You ruffled Michael's thick, voluminous hair. His hair has natural curls your fingers can easily get tangled in.

"Hey! Quit it!" hissed Michael. But he did nothing to stop it. Instead he just took it while still looking annoyed.

You laughed, "Even if you don't like something on yourself, that doesn't mean I don't like it."

You could see a tiny smile forming on his face when you said that. That was one of the memories you cherished when Michael used to smile.

Unfortunately, you never got to see him smile that much anymore since August came. It was only a Saturday and you came downstairs at 9 am to eat your breakfast. As you made your way to the dining area, you could hear your mom getting a phone call from the kitchen. You listened closely on what she's saying.

"…you finalised the divorce? Why?…oh…you never reconciled your relationship with him?…what about Michael?…What? Michael can't come with you?…"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Michael's parents are getting a divorce and he can't see his mom? The only thing on your mind at that time was: is Michael okay? Without any time to waste, you got on your bike and sped towards the Rogers house. As you finally reached Michael's house, you rapidly knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal a tired looking Mrs Rogers. She had light eye bags on her eyes probably from the lack of sleep.

"Is Michael here?" you asked.

"Yes," she replied, "But I'm afraid you can't see him right now. He's…not exactly in the mood to talk right now."

"It'll be fine. I'm his friend so I gotta make sure he's okay."

Mrs Rogers looked at you hesitantly before answering, "Alright. Come in. But I have to warn you. He's very violent when he's angry."

You nodded at her before making your way upstairs. Michael's room was on the second door on the right. You knocked on it.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

Michael's sudden change of tone startled you. You were so used to his soft, gentle voice when he spoke.

"Actually it's just me."

You didn't get an answer from him this time. He just remained quiet for a while. Soon, Michael opened the door. His eyes are red and puffy from all the crying he did along with tear stains on his face. You peeked behind him to get a good glance of his room. His room was a mess. There were books and toys littered on the floor. You even saw a chair broken into halves. You prefer not to question what happened in his room because you don't wanna pry too much.

"Can I please come inside?"

Michael nodded and gestured at you to come in. Both on you sat on his bed. Michael looked away from you with his arms folded. His body frame constricted.

"I heard your parents are getting a divorce."

"Who told you that?"

You nervously came up with an answer. You don't wanna sound too nosy, "Uh…overheard it during my mom's phone call."

Once again, Michael remained silent for a minute before speaking up, "I never understood why. They were suddenly pitting against each other. Every night they kept arguing and arguing. I just listened throughout the entire time."

You just sat there and listened to him sympathetically. Is this the reason why Michael's feeling down lately? That must be terrible shouldering the thought of your parents separating.

"They were constantly at each other's throats. Sometimes they roped me into this. I mean…it's not my fault their marriage is falling apart."

Michael's words were laced with bitterness. You noticed that he's starting to tremble.

"Yesterday…it finally happened. I expected it. They both finally agreed that it wasn't working for them. My mom…chose to go back to Korea all by herself. I begged to go back with her but my dad…decided that I have to stay here with him. I tried to convince him I wanted to go with mom but…the decision was final. I won't be seeing my mom anymore."

The curly haired boy turned around to look at you. His face tainted with scorn. Salty tears running down his face, "Can you believe it?! That bastard won't let me see my mom! And she's leaving me all alone here! Can't they see how much their son is hurting!"

Michael's voice was beginning to crack along with bigger streams of tears flowing down his cheeks, "Day in and day out I get ripped on! And my parents are just too busy arguing with themselves that they forgot about their own son! It's like I don't even matter to anyone! UGH! WHY DOES THE WORLD HATE ME?!"

He grabbed the nearest Chinpokomon doll and flung it against the wall before letting out a scream that can cause the entire house to crumble. Michael's body was seething with anger as he was panting heavily from all the frustration. His fists were clenched into a tight ball. His teeth are clenched. As he kept taking deep breathes, he slumped down to his knees. His body was quivering as he started to whimper. Then he covered his face with his hands as those whimpers turned into loud sobs. You went over and enveloped your crying friend into a giant hug. His shaking body felt cold as if he was never touched before. He planted his tear-stained face onto your neck. You could feel the salty liquid stain your shirt.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through this Michael," you consoled.

You wished you could do more to help your friend but comforting him about his parents' divorce is the least you could do at the moment. You brought him into a tighter embrace.

"I'm not sure what I can do to help you but whenever you're feeling sad, I'll always be there for you."

You felt two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around your waist. Michael's embrace was so tight. It felt as though he doesn't want to let you go.

He sniffed, "You will? You're not going to leave me like my mom will?"

"I won't. I promise."

You let Michael cry into your arms for what feels like an eternity for the both of you. You kept him company until your mom came to pick you up in the evening because she was getting worried about you. You were reluctant to leave Michael alone because of what he's been going through but eventually you had to go home anyway.

Nevertheless, you did keep your promise that you'll stay by Michael's side when he's feeling down such as on the inevitable day his mom had to leave him for good. After that whole ordeal, you went over to his house again to comfort him. He was silent again when you offered your support. In spite of that, he still leaned onto you as always. You wonder how you can make him feel better.

Unfortunately, Michael never gotten any better. Since the day his mother left, Michael had undergone a drastic change in him. He now wore this blank, emotionless look as if the colour on his face had been washed out. His eyes look tired and blank that when you stare into it, you couldn't see his soul anymore. The last thing you missed about Michael, or the old Michael at least was he never gave you that cute little smile anymore. What used to be your friend was nothing more than a soulless, empty shell. You wished you could do something to help him but he nothing ever seems to make him happy anymore. All the joy was sucked out of him.

You heard that he's gotten more violent since he's beaten up anyone who made fun of him. You were always the one to patch up his bruises for him. Whenever you did, you'd always notice this disgruntled look Michael had. He looks like an angry, caged dog.

Eventually Michael got into detention more often. Everyone in your school started avoiding him because of what violence he is capable of. His grades started to slip and he started skipping school too. When you asked him why he did that, he started to bitch about how school is just a big waste of time because you only learn pointless shit that won't get you anywhere through life, not that life has any meaning anyway. At this point, you think Michael's stuck in his pessimistic ways. You want to try to understand what happened to him but he's more closed-off than he was before. Even though you were Michael's friend, you still felt a huge distance growing between you.

By the time Michael was ten, he started hanging out with another group of younger kids. There was a chubby girl named Henrietta, a pockmarked brown-haired boy named Pete and a kindergartener named Firkle. He told you that he met the three of them in detention and it turns out they all share some things in common: they were all bullied and that they hate everyone in the school. You honestly don't know how you feel about this. On one hand, you're glad Michael has found his own group of friends. But on the other hand, you were getting worried about what kind of person Michael will become. Weeks later, your suspicions were confirmed.

It was on a weekend and you came to check up on Michael. When Michael opened the door, you thought you were seeing a completely different person. Michael is wearing all black from head to toe. He wore his signature long black coat with a white dress shirt and black pants. You noticed he applied black eyeliner that compliments his gloomy resting bitch face. He looks like a character from a Tim Burton movie. To say the least, you were speechless. You knew that Michael would change but it wasn't what you expected it to be. This was exactly the person that Michael still is today.

"Hey," Michael greeted in his usual monotone voice, "Thought you might come by."

"Yeah…" you trailed off, feeling like a fish out of water after seeing Michael's new look, "I miss spending time with you since you hang out with your other friends now."

"Come on in then."

Once you entered Michael's bedroom, you felt you were in uncanny valley. Michael's bedroom had gone through a major overhaul. His walls and bedsheets are now a dark shade of gray with the black curtains closed, shielding the room from any sunlight. The dim lighting along with the gothic decorations gave you a spooky kind of feeling like you were walking along the cemetery at night. You noticed a bunch of posters of obscure bands on the wall such as Depeche Mode and Joy Division. Michael must have developed some niche taste in music since you've never heard of those bands before.

"What happened here?" you asked.

"Redecorated it, duh. I figured that I'd have to change things up a lot. Obviously my old man was against me selling all my old junk so I took matters into my own hand. Oh. In case you're about to ask, I'm a goth now. So are my friends. The Michael you used to know had grown out of his normal phase."

This…was hard for you to get used to. You were used to the meek, quiet boy you spent time with. It's as though Michael skipped to his rebellious teenage phase without going through puberty. Now you noticed a stark contrast between you two. You were the kind, sweet person that's liked by the other kids at school while Michael had became a cynical, angst-ridden outcasted goth.

"Can I ask you something Michael? What brought about all this?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You mean?"

You sighed, "You changed. Don't get the wrong idea. It…it's not that I don't like it. It's just so sudden you know? What happened?

"Isn't it obvious (Y/N)? All of those fake, try-hard, wannabe conformists just suck up to society's expectation of them. Yeah sure, they can get married and make a hundred babies a year just to live in their happy fantasy life. Then they shun anyone who don't follow what society expects of them. Tch! Hypocrites!"

The disgruntled goth took out a cigarette and blew a puff of smoke out of it.

"Are you smoking?" You asked completely surprised.

"No duh. What else do you think I'm doing right now?"

"I know. It's just that-"

"Smoking's bad for you? Yeah. Heard it all before. And I don't fucking care. But the point of all this (Y/N), I grew tired of all this bullshit the conformists are giving me. So I made my own little group of non-conformists. We've tolerated all those crap those posing conformist sheep pushed on us for far too long now so it's time we forge our own non-conformist path."

You stayed silent after Michael's little monologue until you realised one little flaw in his argument, "But if you hate conformists so much, why are you still talking to me?"

Michael froze for a second. His eyes widened. He never thought of that, did he?

"I'm what you call a 'conformist' but you don't seem to have any problems hanging out with me. How come you haven't push me away yet?"

Michael lowered his gaze. You could see a light tint of pink forming on his face. Damn, he looks kinda cute right now, you thought.

"I…just couldn't…let you go."

You couldn't help but giggle at the hilarity of this situation, "There's nothing to be shy about Michael. You could just say you still want me as your friend."

"Shut it…" he whined in embarrassment.

Putting that little incident aside, you spent the rest of the day learning about the goth subculture thanks to Michael. He even recommended some goth bands and offered to do your eyeliner for you. From that day onward, you can see Michael hanging out with his own group of goth kids at the loading dock. You occasionally see him in the hallways but that's only when he wants to see you.

Gradually, you started to accept that being goth is just a part of Michael. Sure, he began looking into the darker side of life and he's remained pessimistic since his parent's divorce which concerns you but you began to realise that you can't change what he became. It's his choice so you have to respect that.

Nevertheless, you still loved Michael. Goth or no goth. The curly haired boy holds a special place in your heart since you stuck around with him for so long. You recalled all the fun times you had together when you two were kids. You remembered the cute laugh he gave you when he was still a happy kid. You even have this strong urge to be beside him when he's feeling sad. Even after turning into a misanthropic goth, he still treated you with kindness, which is what you absolutely respect about him. Those tender feelings that you had for Michael grew over the years you've been together. Whenever you see or think of him, there's this light, fluffy tingling sensation in your heart that brings absolute joy. You were truly grateful to have a person like him in your life.

"You got a crush on anyone (Y/N)?"

"Wait? What!" you were flabbergasted at your friend's surprising question.

"Oh come on. I've seen the way you blush and look up into the sky. Admit it. You have a crush on someone don't you."

Hot blood was starting to rush to your face. You could feel steam coming out of your ears, "What? No! No one at all!"

Your friend raised her eyebrow at you quizzically, giving you the 'I know you're hiding something' smirk.

You sighed, admitting defeat, "Alright. I do."

"Really? Who's the lucky guy? Or girl?"

"Like hell I'm gonna tell you."

"Oh come on! Seriously? Ugh fine! Have you confessed to them yet?"

That question brought your mood down, "Sadly, no. I can't tell him I like them."

"Aww why? You're shy aren't you?"

"It's not like that! It's just…" you heaved a long sigh of disappointment, "I don't think he likes me back. If I ever confess to him, I'm afraid he'll straight up give me a no."

For your case, you don't think Michael ever concerns himself with feelings or something he calls stupid as romance. He's a goth so of course he doesn't believe in stuff like that. And for the record, he's not an expressive guy to begin with.

He once told you in a conversation, "Love is a bullshit lie the conformists made up. What they thought was love was just a bunch of chemicals in our brain that compels humans to breed. They just want to have a living breeding machine to produce more children just to continue to continue this endless cycle of life. They made up this concept of marriage (Ugh!) that makes us believe happiness comes when two people hook up and make babies together. But what they don't know is the potential fallout of their relationship. Think about the arguments, the sadness and anger that comes with it, the divorce. It just proves that happiness dies and love can tear you apart."

You wouldn't tell Michael but you felt a crack opened in your heart. You were sad that Michael thinks of love that way. In a sense, you thought he might be projecting his parents' divorce into his thoughts or he was just being brutally honest with how jaded his mindset is. Still, you can't deny how hurt you were when you thought about what Michael said. If Michael never believed in love, does that mean he just sees you as a friend? Does it mean he never wants a relationship at all? You dwelled on that feeling of heartbreak for a while since you knew Michael would just see you as someone he appreciates. Not as a love interest. Eventually, you begrudgingly accepted that Michael never wants to be in love in the first place so you swept your feelings for him under the rug and decided to move on. You knew his past experiences with his parents made him hate the concept of love in the first place. The most you could do is learn to respect it.

"Why not just give it a shot?" your friend continued, "How would you know he doesn't like you if you haven't tried asking him out yet?"

"Lizzie, I hate to break it to you but I don't think he wants to date anyone," you sighed as you looked off into the distance, "I don't think he ever wants to be in love."

Little do you know, Michael actually feels the same way about you.

In a much, much stronger way.