Michael wasn't sure how long he had been sitting at the food court by now, just staring at the image in front of him. All of his thoughts immediately went from drunken slurs to one word. Jeremy. So of course, that was the first thing to come out of his mouth.

"Jeremy?" The... the thing raised an eyebrow as he looked at Michael. It's eyes raked over the boy's body, picking out every little detail. Michael squirmed under the look. Usually when someone looked you over like that, the look they gave you was purely sexual. This thing made it seem like he was judging every little detail of Michael's, even the black nail police that graced his perfectly manicured nails.

"Wow. I've got work to do," the thing muttered. Michael cringed. Okay, maybe this really wasn't a good idea. The thing finally met Michael's eyes, and Michael almost fell out of his chair. Yeah, this was definitely in no way his friend. It's eyes were a bright, electrical blue, and Michael felt like those eyes could see straight through him. Which, he would bet, probably could. "Well, Michelle Mell, you have quite the shitty life, don't you? I can see why you need me." That's what finally snapped Michael out of his trance.

"It's Michael," he immediately snapped. This SQUIP was not going to make him be who he was uncomfortable being. He decided then and there that if this thing wouldn't call him by the right name or pronouns, he was getting rid of it. Though, that is probably what he should do anyway. He almost reached into his bag and grabbed the Mountain Dew Red that was resting in there. Almost. The thing grinned, as though it had just won a battle.

"There we go. That got your attention." The SQUIP noticed the angry and hard look Michael was now giving him and shrugged. "Listen kid, I honestly don't care what you are. I just need to make you more chill, and that would be easier if you weren't starring at me as though I have a second head. And don't talk out loud. Just think at me. No one else can see me, and I can't have people thinking you're crazy. My work will be for nothing if does." The Jeremy look alike raised an eyebrow at Michael as it sat down in the chair across from him. Okay, so this was really happening and Michael wasn't drunk. Or maybe he was. He should have just gone home and gotten stoned. Things would have been so much easier then. But Michael concluded that he was an idiot and this was his problem, so he needed to just roll with it. Michael crossed his arms, deciding to put his anger into feeling rebellious. And just think at the thing? How did that even work? He, admittedly, felt completely sober by now, so still being drunk was out of the picture. Michael focused on his thoughts, and tried to direct them at the SQUIP.

"Look, I didn't need a sassy asshole to help me. If I needed that, I could have done this myself. I need something to help me get more popular and-"

"Help you get into Jeremy Heere's pants. Yes, I know," the thing interrupted. Michael figured the thinking thing worked as he blushed, his whole face turning red. He almost denied it, but he knew this think would know if he was lying. Michael had to admit, that had not been on his mind at this very moment, but now it was. Maybe this thing could help him with that one little problem, Michael could admit that. But that didn't make this topic any less awkward. It was even more awkward hearing it come out of Jeremy's mouth. Michael opened his mouth to say something, but the SQUIP cut him off again. "Listen, kiddo. Don't talk back. I know better than you, obviously, and I know what you want and I can get it for you. So just do what I say, and I'll get Jeremy to notice you." Michael scoffed. That was some sucky sales pitch there.

"Look, Tic Tac, I don't have to- OW!" Michael cut himself off when he felt a jolt of electricity go through him. He glared at the thing across the table, and let all of his anger go in one simple sentence. "What the Hell, dude?"

"If you won't do it on your own consent, I will make you do it," the SQUIP simply told him. Michael almost made a smart ass comment, but he felt another jolt go through him. "Every time you ignore or talk back to me, you'll get a jolt quite like that one." The thing stood up, and motioned for Michael to do the same. As much as he would hate to admit it, Michael didn't want to get shocked again. He stood up warily. Maybe he had time to... He yelped again. God, this thing had no idea what mercy was, did it? As much as he liked a painful distraction from his feelings, he hadn't liked getting shocked like that. The SQUIP started walking to one of the last stores open, and Michael followed. When Michael hesitated in front of the small clothing store, he felt another jolt go through him. He yelped again, and walked into the store. "Alright loser, let's pick you out some new clothes."

"Hey, I'm not a loser," Michael argued, though his voice sounded weak. He knew perfectly well that he was a loser, and he knew that the SQUIP knew that he knew. The Jeremy look alike rolled his eyes at Michael as it grabbed a shirt from one of the tables. "And sure, this Creeps shirt is a little weird, but my hoodie is perfectly fine."

"Uh, yeah, no." The SQUIP threw a shirt into Michael's arms, then continued searching. "That hoodie is what? Two years old? And as big as you are, that thing is still big on you. Your sense of style is completely terrible, and if I'm being honest, I'm not sure if even I can help you. No wonder Jeremy abandoned you." Michael's hands immediately went to his arms, suddenly remembering all his thoughts from the bathroom.

"Look, if you're trying to make me feel horrible about myself, then you don't really have to try that hard alright? Anything you tell me, I promise I've already told myself." Of course, whatever the SQUIP would say, it would still hurt like Hell because it would be coming out of Jeremy's mouth, with Jeremy's voice. The SQUIP frowned, and turned to Michael. The boy ignored the computer and reached out a hand to grab a shirt, trying to go back to the original task at hand. They had to get this done soon, seeing as the mall was going to close in five minutes. But his SQUIP seemed to have other plans.

"Lift the arms of your shirt," the Jeremy look alike demanded.

"Can't we just go back to looking for-"

"Do it." Michael saw no other way around this. He lifted his shirt sleeves, and looked away. He didn't want to look at those bloody bandages, sure, but he really didn't want to remember how good it had felt to get ride of his thoughts that way. He had stopped hurting himself a long time ago, when Jeremy had realized what he was doing. Sometimes, Michael was glad Jeremy had found him in his bathroom- bleeding, crying, and probably looking like an overall baby- but other times he wasn't. Michael pulled down his sleeves, and reached for the shirt again.

"Look, it doesn't matter, okay? No one but Jeremy ever cared anyways."

"This makes things a little more complicated." Michael decided to ignore that comment.

"You're in my head. How did you not know about this?"

"I didn't have time to look at your whole life story! Besides, you blocked some memories out of your brain. I can't reach those." Michael glared at his SQUIP.

"Let's just keep looking for clothes. It'll keep my mind occupied, and help you complete whatever task your trying to accomplish here," Michael said, ignoring the computer's pitying look. He didn't want to deal with that right now. It was to much. "Besides, this place is about to close and I have school tomorrow."

"Yeah, Hell no. You are not going to school until those cuts on you arms are healed and you sense in fashion is... updated." Michael raised an eyebrow at his SQUIP. Was Jeremy's this annoying? Did it pester him like this to no end? Should Michael just go and drink that bottle of Mountain Dew Red in his backpack? But the boy realized that if he wanted Jeremy back as at least a friend, then he needed this dumb ass thing. So as much as he hated to do it, he just bit back any smart ass remark he had and decided to just go with the flow.

"Fine. Whatever. We can come back here tomorrow then."

"Good plan." Michael set down all the shirts that had ended up in his arms, and made his way out of the store. There was no point in getting kicked out in a few minutes if they were just coming back tomorrow. It wasn't easy to ignore the dirty look the cashier was giving him- seriously it looked like she was trying to get him to internally combust- but he managed to walk out of the store without exploding. "Now, let's talk about your new exercise ritual."

"Hell no."

Heyo! Sorry for the terrible chapter, I wasn't really sure how to throw this SQUIP in here. But I hope I did fine. I promise I have a plan for this story.

Also, thank you so much to the reviews that I have been given! Honestly, you have no idea how much those mean to me! I would also love some constructive critisim if you guys have any (which I'm sure you do), or just anything else.

Thanks for reading! Next update should be out this week.