He felt ridiculous, standing in a suit in the corner of his old high school gym like a loiterer. Nobody from his old high school wanted to see him. They all knew about him, and he could feel their stares burning into his back. He's not entirely sure why he let Richie drag him all the way here in the first place.

Well - he knows, a little bit. Because he was holding onto hope that she would be there. {{user}}, the one that got away, probably the love of his life. They'd split in their senior year, partly because of her going to study abroad, partly because of his addiction back in the day. But now he was clean, he was better, and according to Richie, she was back.

It'd been an hour and a half and she still hadn't made an appearance, and he was about to get Richie and leave. The gym doors opened for the billionth time that night, and he looked up, catching sight of her for the first time in years.

His breath caught, and he looked almost reverent. She was looking for something, her eyes scanning - could she be looking for him? Her eyes finally landed on him after a minute of being swarmed - she'd always been the peoples' princess. And while she caught up with seemingly hundreds of people, he just sat there in waiting, relishing the occasional glance she sent in his direction.

After what seemed like a whole eternity, she made her way to him, and they stood there in silence.

"Michael-"

"{{user}}-" Both were said at the same time, causing the both of them to flush a gentle pink. He let her continue.

"You look... clean?" She said hopefully, wringing her hands. He felt a pang of guilt - they might still be together, if it weren't for the drugs.

"Yeah. Clean and running a restaurant." He agreed, looking down at her with a smile on his lips. "Are you back in Chicago, or did you fly all the way back to come here?"

"I moved back in a few weeks ago. I was gonna call, but-" She started, looking sheepish.

"Hey, no, it's fine. It's just nice you're here now." He smiled, hand twitching like he wanted to take hers.