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Mike was sat fiddling with the phone, turning it this way and that, dropping it on more than one occasion, it had rang twice just that morning; all from the same person. Trevor. He had meant to answer it , really he had, but Harvey had given him 'that' look. The look that clearly said he knew exactly who was calling and exactly what for. So Mike had hastily stuffed the phone back into his pocket, making sure he hit the end button as he did so, offered the sincerest of smiles he could muster and carried on with his work.
That had been a couple of hours ago, now he was sat in the women's bathroom (the one on the seventh floor, the one that was hardly used) hiding. He knew he shouldn't even be thinking about calling back, he could already see the disappointed look that Harvey would give him. Not to mention he'd get to hear the spiel about Trevor being an anchor and he should cut all ties with his past, again.
But every time he went to, there was something stopping him. Some kind of cold hesitation gripped him and wouldn't – couldn't – let go. He couldn't just ignore so many years of friendship and more. Ever since Trevor had been given the bus tickets to get out of town for a while, he found himself texting his oldest friend and now said friend was back; a month later and so were the phone calls.
Scrolling through the contacts, he stopped at Trevor's name, eve after everything he hadn't gotten rid of the number, that last bit that tied him to his old way of life and oh how he often wanted to go back. Go back to when everything wasn’t this difficult, to the time when they were kids and had spent hours outside kicking a ball around. Or when they were teenagers and just discovering that first joy of pot, not to mention each other.
Sighing he closed his eyes, resting his head against his arms, never had he wanted to escape than he did right then. To forget that – for one moment – he was working for the best law firm in the city. To forget that, unlike Harvey, he didn't have a degree to his name. He just wanted to be Mike, the guy that would get high and could recite everything he'd ever read, just one more time. Even as he thought it, he could feel the age old craving spike through him, like an itch he couldn't quite reach. He could feel the tremble that worked its way up through his arms and down his spine. As – without thinking – he sent off a text to Trevor, telling him they needed to meet. He had to finish this, had to put a stop to it all and find some kind of peace.
**
It was raining heavily when he finally managed to get away for the evening, growing darker with each passing moment. Mike was soaked through in a matter of seconds, shirt clinging to his body, bunching up in uncomfortable ways as he walked. He brushed of any offers of a ride saying he'd take the subway or that his bike wouldn't fit in their cars. He pointedly ignored Harvey's glances, the man had a way of making Mike squirm at the best of time. It was that stare the one that could make him say anything and there were some things he just wasn't ready to say yet.
So he'd ducked his head, made up some excuse (which he was sure was not convincing), muttered a hasty goodbye and left.
Thirty minutes later he was stood outside a nondescript door, soaked through to the bone, in the middle of the dodgiest neighbourhood he'd seen in a long time. Mike wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing here in the middle of the evening? Cold rain was dripping down the back of his neck, making him shudder as the drip stopped between his shoulder blades. He only had to take one more step and he'd be warm, dry and not to mention exactly where he thought he needed to be.
Tugging his coat tighter around his body, hoping to stave off some of the cold that was beginning to bite into him, he went to take that final step. When a car ran through the deepest puddle on the road, sending a wave of dirty rain water onto his trouser legs. It was as though he'd had some shock to the system, jumping back as though he could escape from it. Trying to keep himself warm seemed trivial now and he gave up on keeping his coat wrapped tightly around him, he turned back to his path. He was a back where he started, a few steps away from the door, the blissfulness he sought was only a few feet away from him, when a hand gripped his shoulder, tugging him around.
Mike's first instinct was to fight off whoever was attempting to mug him, that was until he realised that the person doing the mugging was none other than Harvey's driver. He just stared at the other man, his thoughts a mess as he realised that he'd been followed. Anger at actually being followed, relief at being stopped, sorrow at not getting to see Trevor and something he refused to put a name to, towards Harvey.
The driver didn't speak a word to him, obviously Harvey had warned him that Mike might try to talk his way out of being taken...wherever they were going to go, he just silently led Mike to the car. All the while never taking his hand off of Mike, until he was safe and secured in the back of the car. Warmth slowly started to seep back into his clothing, as the door shut behind him, making his skin itch, his nose run and the wetness of his clothes more prominent. As he slowly warmed up, he felt exhaustion start to creep in, the comfortable seats, the steady hum of the car engine, Mike couldn't help but feel himself relax slightly.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Mike watched as the less familiar streets turned into more familiar streets, it was rather soothing, watching the lamp posts flicker by their light making his face glow orange as they passed by each one. He found himself starting to fall to sleep, and as he realised they weren't exactly going anywhere (just round in circles if he wasn't mistaken) he let himself be lulled into the security of sleep. Let his mind drift from the day he'd had, stopped thinking about everything and found the blissfulness he was searching for.
He didn't wake once when he was taken back into his own apartment, nor did wake as clean, dry clothes were put on him. In fact Mike didn't wake until it was light out, the next morning, his phone buzzing merrily on the bedside table; the text from Harvey asking where he was. The previous night was forgotten for now, Mike knew he'd have more but it seemed there was another anchor in his life, this one keeping him on the straight and narrow.