Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jeremy felt the slick, ice cold mud pressing against his cheek first. Feeling flooded back through his body, and he was hit in the gut with a deep chill running through his bones. Jeremy sat up quickly, the splattering of the rain on his soaked clothes already making his teeth chatter.

Shit. My cardigan is definitely ruined. Jeremy stumbled to his feet before he realized he had more to worry about than mud stains. A wind whipped through his soaked hair, causing Jeremy to shiver from the spikes of chilly air. He couldn’t see what was the cause of the disturbingly powerful weather. Jeremy struggled to his feet, his breathing starting to pick up.

How did I get here? What the hell is happening? Jeremy looked around frantically for any sign of human life. Anyone that would have dragged him here. The only living things in view were the trees waving in the wind. Jeremy felt his breathing pick up as the fact that he was stuck in a storm in a unfamiliar place started to catch up to him. Jeremy saw a bright beam of light sweep over the sky, raindrops catching the light.

Wait… There’s a lighthouse! I could be safe if I make it up there… Jeremy started to push through the wind, which was tugging and whipping his clothes against his frozen skin. He followed the dirt path up, squinting through the rain. Jeremy kept his eyes on the ground, only slipping once. He reached the top of the hill, the wind worse than ever. He only allowed himself to look up once he reached a bench, clutching the back of it with numb fingers.

“Holy shit …” Jeremy gaped, his grip going slack. The lighthouse had an amazing view of the ocean, as well as the violent typhoon headed towards the town nestled in the bay. It was the largest storm he’d ever seen. It could take out the whole town. Jeremy’s gaze was caught by a boat that was coming a little too close…

The boat slammed into the lighthouse. Jeremy froze as he started to panic, the lighthouse crumbling with the blunt force of the boat. It slid down dangerously, toppling towards him.

“No!”

Jeremy woke up with a start, jerking up in his seat as his heart hammered against his chest. No one noticed, of course. He was Jeremy Caulfield after all, the loser of the year. His breathing leveled out slowly, letting himself relax as his surroundings came back to him.

Okay… I’m in class… In the real world. Everything is chill. Jeremy bounced his foot, soaking in his surroundings. The teacher, Mr. Jefferson, droned on and on about something photography. On any other day, Jeremy might have found it interesting. He watched as Rich threw a paper ball at Jenna, snickering. Jenna sighed and glanced at the paper ball mournfully, but she didn’t pick it up. Jeremy frowned a little. He felt bad for Jenna; she had always been nice to him. Even when she was cool. Jeremy’s thoughts drifted back to his ‘dream’.

I don’t think I fell asleep… And that sure didn’t feel like a dream. Jeremy frowned. Weird. His thoughts were interrupted by Chloe’s phone going off, causing him to jump. Jeremy sighed, annoyed with himself. Stop. You can calm down now, there’s no fucking storm.

Jeremy looked down at his photo for the Everyday Heroes contest. He was standing in front of a collage of his favorite photos he’s taken over the years. I feel so egotistical putting myself in that photo. I’m not really a hero, per say… Jeremy balled his hands into fists. Maybe I should take a picture if I’m so stressed. He picked up his camera, facing it towards himself. One picture can’t hurt, right? He pressed the button before he could second guess himself. Jeremy felt his shoulders relax, distracted by the Polaroid producing the photo and watching it fall onto his lap.

“Shh, I just believe Jeremy has taken what you kid call a ’selfie’ .” Mr. Jefferson directed everyone’s attention to Jeremy, causing his face to heat up. “A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition.” He continued, pacing the room. Jeremy was definitely paying attention now, cringing in his seat.

“Now, Jeremy, since you have captured all of our attention and clearly want to join in on the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” Mr. Jefferson looked at Jeremy expectantly, causing him to choke up. Jeremy averted his gaze, fiddling with his photo.

“ I-I did know!” To Jeremy’s horror, he stammered and went quiet. Jefferson leveled him a look of disapproval.

I don't think my face could get any hotter.

“But I k-kinda forgot…” Jeremy finished, Chloe giggling with Rich, who was holding back snickers. Jeremy sunk lower into his seat.

Maybe I can just crawl under the table.

Mr. Jefferson sighed, disappointed. It made Jeremy’s gut clench in shame.
“You either know this,” Jefferson hit the table to accentuate his point, causing some students to wake up from their stupor. “Or not, Jeremy. Is there anybody here who knows their stuff?” He said, exasperated. A few kids coughed awkwardly. Chloe raised her hand, not giving Jeremy any notice as he tried to will himself to disappear.

“Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created ‘daguerreotypes’, a process that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.” Chloe smiled triumphantly. Jeremy could feel Chloe’s piercing gaze on him, waiting for the moment to make a snide remark about him. He felt his burning cheeks with the back of his hand, trying to cool them off.

Shit. I wasn’t planning on crying today.

“Very good, Chloe!” Jefferson’s approving look stung more than anything that Chloe could say. Jeremy sighed and wiped his eyes to dry them. As soon as class gets out, I’m going to the bathroom.

“The Daguerreian Process brought out fine detail in people's faces…” Jeremy’s mind started to drift, his surroundings starting to fall out of focus when the bell rang.

“And everyone, don't forget the deadline to submit a photo in the ‘Everyday Heroes’ contest.” Students started to get up from their seats, packing their bags. The ambient noise from outside of the classroom grew louder. Jefferson had to raise his voice to be heard. “I'll fly out with the winner to San Francisco where you'll be feted by the art world. It's great exposure and it can kickstart a career in photography. So Stella and Alyssa, get it together. Brooke, don't hide, I'm still waiting for your entry too.” Jeremy started to hastily stuff his things into his messenger bag, pretending to ignore Mr. Jefferson.

Please don’t mention me, please don’t mention m-

“And, yes , Jeremy, I see you pretending not to see me.” Jeremy sighed and put his camera into his bag, standing up. Rich stood up as well, shoving Jeremy a little.

“Nice purse, hipster.” Jeremy’s face burned as Brooke and Chloe laughed behind their hands. Jeremy sighed, watching as Chloe walked up to Mr. Jefferson.

Chloe really doesn't waste a second kissing ass… Jeremy’s thoughts even seemed bitter to himself. He looked over at Jenna, rounding the table. She looks so sad and lonely. Poor Jenna. Jeremy walked up to her, trying not to trip over his own feet.

“Hey, Jenna.” Jeremy offered up a small, awkward smile. Jenna looked up, surprised. She returned the smile.

“Oh, hi Jeremy.” Jenna’s voice was scratchy. Is she sick? Jeremy fidgeted with his sleeve. He was worried about Jenna, even if he didn’t vocalize it.

“I hope I didn't embarrass you with my lame answer.” Jeremy laughed awkwardly, looking at the ground. God, I hate my laugh.

“It sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.” Jenna’s smile was sympathetic.

“Unless you're Chloe.” Jeremy scoffed, causing Jenna to laugh weakly.

“She's got nothing on you, Jeremy.” Jenna sounded so earnest. Jeremy really appreciated the compliment, Jenna and Chloe were once friends after all.

“Well, I should get going. Maybe I can slip away from Jefferson before he notices.” Jeremy looked over at Chloe and Mr. Jefferson. They still seemed to be talking.

“Talk to you later.” Jenna smiled as she looked back down at the desk. Jeremy waved, his gaze falling on the paper ball. He frowned a little and made sure Jenna wasn’t looking as he picked it up.

Dear Jenna,

We love your porn video

XOXO - Blackwell Academy.

Jeremy shuddered as he read the note. He crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket. God, this is horrible, I wish I hadn’t read this. It makes me wanna puke. He sighed and shook it off as he started towards the door when some etchings in a desk caught his eye.

‘Jake Amber 4 ever’… Huh. Might make a good shot. Jeremy took his camera out and snapped a quick photo, putting both of them back into his bag. Jeremy crept towards the door, hoping not to get caught by Jefferson.

“Excuse me for a moment, Miss Chase.” Jeremy could feel it coming. Mr. Jefferson had spotted him. “Mr. Caulfeild, come over here for a second.” Jeremy cringed, walking dejectedly over to Mr. Jefferson’s desk. Chloe sighed and stepped back. Even the mythic bitch of Arcadia Bay couldn’t object to a teacher.

“Don’t even think about leaving until we talk about your contest entry.” Mr. Jefferson crossed his arms and Jeremy’s throat went dry.

“I-I didn't have any time... Way too much homework..?” Jeremy tried, smiling nervously.

“Jeremy…” Mr. Jefferson sighed. “You're a better photographer than a liar... Now I know it's a drag to hear some old dude lecture you...but life won't wait for you to play catch-up. You're young, the world is yours, blah, blah, blah, right?” Jefferson put his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. Jeremy froze up. “But you do have a gift, you have the fever to take images, to frame the world only the way you envision it. Now, all you need is the courage to share your gift with others. That's what separates the artist from the amateur. You could be popular , a star even, Jeremy. You just have to reach out.” Mr. Jefferson stepped back. Jeremy nodded, looking at the ground. Chloe grabbed Jefferson’s attention again, leaving Jeremy free to go.

Jeremy left the classroom, taking deep breaths.  Welcome to the real world… The idle chatter of the hallway filled his ears. It almost seemed like too much right now.

I need a serious timeout in the bathroom. Splash water on my face and make sure I don't look like a total loser. Jeremy leaned against the wall, fumbling with his earbuds as he took them out and slipped them into his ears. He sighed, letting the song push his worries away as he gathered himself together and headed to the bathroom.

Chapter Text

The hallways were crowded, kids lining the walls and milling around. The interior halls always felt so strange, the artificial lighting a strong contrast to the soft, natural lighting of the classrooms. Jeremy shakily shoved his earbuds in, standing outside of Mr. Jefferson’s classroom. He relaxed his tense muscles as calming music wafted in through the earbuds.

A missing poster caught his eye as he walked by, as it had always done in the month since he’d started his brand new life at Blackwell Academy. There was a picture of a boy with sandy brown hair, his head cocked to one side. He seemed to be laughing at something off-screen. Jeremy looked closer at the poster, reading it.

Missing from Arcadia Bay

Mon April 22 nd , 2014

Age:19

Height: 6’0”

Hair: Light Brown

Eyes: Blue

Jake Amber.

Please call with any information: Arcadia Bay Sheriff’s Department. (555) 388-6020

Too bad I never knew him. He’s kinda cute… Out of the time Jeremy had been back in Arcadia Bay, he had never seen Jake. He had never even heard of any ‘Amber’s. Then again, it had been around five years since he’d moved to New Jersey and never looked back. Not even the boy who he spent almost his entire life with, Michael Price. Since he never thought about seeking out companionship with anyone else, Jeremy might’ve just never known Jake.

Michael.

It wasn’t the first time that Jeremy had thought about his best friend since his return. Former best friend, probably now. Jeremy hadn’t contacted Michael at all since Jeremy’s dad since his mom had left, causing his dad to sacrifice almost everything to move as far away as he could. Even though Jeremy had been back in Arcadia Bay over a month, he hadn’t contacted Michael to let him know he had returned.

Goddamn it. I miss him.

Jeremy walked to the bathroom, feeling completely alone.

Jeremy wasn’t completely an outcast per say, he just was more observant. No one waved to him in the hallways, but at least today Jeremy was grateful for that. He pushed the door open to the boy’s bathroom. No one was there.

The bathroom was dirty, graffiti littering the walls, sink, and stalls. The only light other than the dim fluorescent lights above the sink was a high up window that led to the outside, which was barely cracked open. Great. At least no one will hear my breakdown. Jeremy looked at himself in the mirror, his pixel deer shirt and grey cardigan feeling more nerdier than ever. Jeremy took his earbuds out and splashed his face with water. He waited for tears to come, but only one pathetic tear rolled down his cheek. Jeremy took out his photo again, looking at it in contempt.

“‘You have a gift, Jeremy,’” He mocked. Jeremy clenched his fists, looking at the mirror with such hatred you might assume he was about to break it.

“Who am I kidding,” Jeremy muttered to himself, looking down at the photo he’d taken for the contest. He spent so much time finding a tripod for a Polaroid camera and wasted so much film just to get the timing just right. It seemed so fucking useless now. Jeremy ripped the photo in half, letting the pieces fall onto the floor. He sighed, resting his forearms on the sink.

Jeremy’s gaze wandered to the window after a moment or two of sulking, his eyes catching a vibrant blue butterfly fluttering in. His breath caught in his throat, watching as it flew behind a stall past the urinals.

When a door closes, a window opens... Or, something like that. Jeremy tentatively followed the butterfly, watching as it perched itself on a metal bucket. A cart with cleaning supplies sat next to it.

Alright, man. You don’t get a photo opt like this every day. Jeremy crouched down, wrestling with his bag to get his camera out. He took a photo, the light disrupting the butterfly. Jeremy stood up, placing the photo in his bag as the stunningly blue butterfly flew to the sink.

Holy crap! This is such a nice shot, maybe I could enter it for the contest. Maybe show Chloe that she’s not all- The door to the bathroom slammed open, causing Jeremy to jump. Jeremy pressed himself up against the stall, peeking out to get a better look.

Rich was standing there, looking lost. Jeremy could hear Rich’s fast, irregular breathing from his hiding spot. Rich braced his arms on the sink, gripping the sides until his knuckles went white.

“You’re cool, Rich. You’re fine, ” Rich looked at himself in the mirror. “Don’t stress, man... you own this school, you’re fine...” He leaned his forehead against the mirror and began to level out his breathing.

Okay, maybe I can go before Rich sees me… Before Jeremy could try and sneak away, someone else opened the door a little less aggressively. Rich was now joined by, well, what could only be described as a slightly geeky punk. Jeremy’s mind went to geek, as the new boy was wearing a dark tank top that had a white print of a video game controller plastered on the front, along with some faded jeans. A prominent tattoo wrapped around his right arm, easy to see even in the low light. But most noticeably, the tips of his hair were dyed a bright blue. He had dark skin, which contrasted with Rich’s pale and clammy complexion. He had a necklace, which had three bullets hanging off of it.

That must be at least a little dangerous. Jeremy’s mind snapped back to the present as the boy moved. He shut the door behind him, his sneakers squeaking on the ceramic tile. His set expression unnerved Jeremy, causing him to slink back behind the stall a little.

“I hope you checked the perimeter, as step-bitch would say. Now, let's talk, sige?” The casual use of Tagalog pushed something to the forefront of Jeremy’s mind, something nostalgic. It was quickly forgotten as the new person surveyed the room, forcing Jeremy to duck behind the stall.

“I have nothing for you,” Rich growled, his head snapping towards the new kid. Rich gripped the sides of the sink as his hands became slick with sweat. The kid didn’t seem to be impressed.

The boy stepped pushed Rich’s chest, taking a few steps towards Rich.
“ Wrong .” He growled. “You got hella cash.” He crossed his arms. Jeremy shrunk against the stall. Just watching this unfold was stressful.

Rich clenched and unclenched his fists, visibly shaking.
“ Shut up, punk ass !” He yelled, taking a couple shaky breaths. Jeremy had never seen Rich freak out like this, and the other boy, to his credit, barely flinched. Rich’s back was still turned. “That’s my family, not me.”

“Oh, boohoo, poor little short kid.” He walked around Rich, shoving his back a bit.
“I know you been pumpin' drugs 'n' shit to kids around here...” He slammed the sink with the palms of his hands. Jeremy and Rich both jumped. “I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man , I can see the headlines now-”

Jeremy flinched, scared by how furious Rich looked in the mirror.
“Leave them out of this, dick .” He growled in a low voice, finally adverting his gaze to glare at the guy. He only scoffed at Rich.

“I can tell everybody Rich Prescott pretends to be a punk ,” He pushed Rich back. Jeremy’s heart hammered in his chest, afraid of being seen. “Who begs like a little girl ,” He pushed him again. “And talks to himself-” Rich took out a gun. Jeremy stifled a gasp, pressing his hand to his mouth. Rich pointed the gun at the unknown kid’s face. His tough expression changed in an instant. Rich stepped forwards as the kid backed away.

“ Ano ba ‘yan! ” He shouted. Jeremy roughly translated it in his head into something similar to ‘ What the hell is that! ’ Rich shoved him into a corner, trapping him against the wall.

“W-Where’d you get that..? What are you doing? Put that thing down!” Jeremy suddenly feared for this boy’s life, even though he barely knew him. “You don’t know who the fuck I am, or who you’re dealing with, bitch!” Rich roared, pointing the gun at his stomach.  He looked positively fearful of Rich now, his face draining of color. Rich slammed his hand against the wall, making him jump. He grabbed Rich’s wrist and struggled to get the gun away from his stomach. He pressed himself against the wall, cringing away from it.

“Don’t you ever tell me what to do!” Rich pounded the wall with his fist to emphasize his anger. “I’m so sick of people controlling me!” The boy flinched away from Rich’s fist, his hand hovering over Rich’s chest, ready to push him away.
“You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs-” The boy warned, his voice shaking. The way the boy was trembling against the wall was a stark contrast to how cocky he was acting before Rich pulled a gun.

Holy shit, this guy can’t die. Rich wouldn’t shoot… Right?

Rich laughed cruelly, his gun shaking from the effort of trying to break out of the punk’s vice grip. “No one would really miss your ‘punk ass’, would they?” Rich growled, swatting his hand away and pinning it against the wall. In a moment of desperation, the kid yanked his hand from Rich’s grasp, letting go of his wrist to push him away by his chest.

“Get that gun away from me, baliw!”

A shot rang out. Blood blossomed on the boy’s shirt and Rich let go of the gun.

“ No! ”Jeremy screamed, reaching out almost as if he was trying to take a grip on the events to take them back. To rewind them. As the boy and the gun hit the tile at the same time, everything stopped.

And reversed.

Jeremy woke up with a start, jumping in his seat. No one noticed, of course. He was Jeremy Caulfield after all, and what the fuck just happened.

Chapter Text

How… How is this happening? What?

Jeremy was back in Mr. Jefferson’s classroom. Jeremy tried to calm down, taking deep breaths as he regained his bearings. Mr. Jefferson was droning on about cameras again, and students were screwing around.

What the fuck just happened? Jeremy repeated in his mind, looking around nervously. He had just been here. Right here. Jeremy shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

How- that wasn’t a dream. I-it wasn’t a dream! Rich… Jeremy looked over at Rich as he threw a paper ball at Jenna. I was in the bathroom... A-And Rich! He shot that guy. Shot him! This already happened. I’ve been through this. Jeremy took a deep breath.
If Chloe’s phone goes off, this is real.

Chloe’s phone went off. Jeremy jumped, his elbow flying out and accidentally knocked his camera off his desk. It clattered and skidded away, the lens broken.

“Shit!” Jeremy hissed under his breath. Man, this isn’t happening... if I’m crazy, I might as well go all the way. I held up my hand before, right...? He held up his left hand. Nothing. Jeremy began to panic. I’m really crazy, aren’t I? He tried the other hand.

The world around him blurred as the camera skidded across the floor back to Jeremy, fixed its own lens, and jumped back up onto the table. His head started to hurt and he pulled his hand back to his chest, looking at the camera in disbelief.

I did it. I… I actually did it! Jeremy almost giggled, feeling his right hand with his left. I’m a human Tardis! Well, maybe a little less cool. Jeremy looked up as Chloe answered a question. Smart-ass. He sighed and forced his thoughts about Chloe away.

Okay… So I took a photo… Jeremy picked up his camera, determined to give this one more test. He took the selfie, the polaroid falling onto his lap hitting him with a strong case of deja-vu.

“Shh, I just believe Jeremy has taken what you kid call a ’selfie’ .” Mr. Jefferson directed everyone’s attention to Jeremy, but he didn’t get embarrassed. He just felt sick to his stomach.

This is real.

I know this is real.

Jefferson was talking, but it fell on deaf ears. Jeremy felt like his head was underwater. Is that boy dead yet? Can I still save him? I need to go to the bathroom. Now.

“Now, Jeremy, since you have captured all of our attention and clearly want to join in on the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” Mr. Jefferson looked at Jeremy expectantly, causing him to resurface. Jeremy was reminded of Chloe’s answer last time.

Maybe if I answer correctly, he’ll let me go?

“It’s- It’s um... The Daguerreian Process. It was invented by a French painter named...Louis Daguerre? Around 1830,” Jeremy tensed, hoping he got it right. To Jeremy’s relief, Mr. Jefferson looked impressed.
“Somebody has been reading, as well as
taking pictures. Nice work, Jeremy.” Chloe turned around to look at Jeremy, leveling him a glare.
“The Daguerreian Process made portraiture hugely popular, mainly because it gave the subjects clear defined features. You can learn more when you actually finish reading the assigned chapters. Jeremy is so far, way ahead of everybody. And everyone, don't forget the deadline to submit a photo in the ‘Everyday Heroes’ contest.”

Students started to get up from their seats, packing their bags. The ambient noise from outside of the classroom grew louder. Jefferson had to raise his voice to be heard. “I'll fly out with the winner to San Francisco where you'll be feted by the art world. It's great exposure and it can kickstart a career in photography. So Stella and Alyssa, get it together. Brooke, don't hide, I'm still waiting for your entry too.”

Jeremy stood up and slipped his not-purse onto his shoulders. Okay, Jeremy. Let’s go. Jeremy wanted to do everything in the right order, afraid he’d mess something up in time if he didn’t. He chatted with Jenna and head for the door.

Maybe since I answer the question correctly, Mr. Jefferson will-

Mr. Jefferson paused his conversation with Chloe.
“Hey, Jeremy. I see you trying to escape. Come here for a moment.” Chloe whipped around, glaring at him.

Jeremy glared right back at Chloe. I hate you right back, bitch. I don’t wanna be here as much as you want me gone. He walked back over to Mr. Jefferson, slumping over again.

Chloe scoffed. “Excuse you, me and Mr. Jefferson were in the middle of a-“ Mr. Jefferson held a hand up.

“No, Chloe, excuse us.” He turned to Chloe, giving her a look that could only be translated to ‘ hold on a moment ’. “I'd never let one of photography's future stars avoid handing in his picture.” Jeremy sighed. I really don’t have time for this.

“I’m not avoiding, just...” Jeremy ran a hand through his hair impatiently. God dammit, please just let me go!

“Biding time, waiting for the elusive ‘right moment’?” Mr. Jefferson offered, cocking his head to the side and smiling. It was warm and inviting. Jeremy smiled back nervously. Mr. Jefferson was a good guy, but Jeremy had places to be. People to save.

“Exactly,” Jeremy said dismissively, glancing at the clock.

“Jeremy, don't wait too long. John Lennon once said that ‘ Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans .’ Go on now, don't let me stop you.” Mr. Jefferson sighed. Jeremy bit his lip. Maybe if I... Jeremy rewound time and came up to Mr. Jefferson instead.

“Hey, um, can I talk to you for a moment?” He fidgeted with his sleeves. Jeremy didnt really like confrontations, but he had to save that boy.

“Excuse you.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Me and Mr. Jefferson were-“ Mr. Jefferson stopped Chloe.

“No, Chloe, excuse us. I'd never let one of photography's future stars avoid handing in his picture.”

Jeremy smiled confidently. For once in his life, he knew what to say.
“I'm on top of it. You know, I think John Lennon once said that ‘Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.’” Jeremy smiled.

God, I hope that was right.

Mr. Jefferson smiled.
“Jeremy, you are on fire today. All the right answers. Good. Make sure you finish working on it by today. I have faith in you.” Chloe regained Mr. Jefferson’s attention as Jeremy rushed out of the classroom, almost forgetting to close the door after him.

Okay. I have to get to the bathroom, stat. He rushed to get to the bathroom. The sounds off the hallway passed by, attracting a few spare glances from how fast Jeremy was walking, but for once Jeremy barely noticed the attention. Jeremy slammed open the door to the bathroom and sighed in relief. No one was there yet.

Okay, Jeremy. Retrace your steps. He approached the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. You washed your face. Jeremy splashed his face with water. You tore up your photo. He took his photo out of his pocket and ripped it in half... And the butterfly... Jeremy saw the butterfly fly in the same place, between the stall and the cleaning supplies. He ran up to it and took a photo. It flew away and landed on the counter. That’s when Rich walked in.

“You’re cool, Rich. You’re fine, ” Rich looked at himself in the mirror. “Don’t stress, man... you own this school, you’re fine...” He leaned his forehead against the mirror and began to level out his breathing.

“I hope you checked the perimeter, as step-bitch would say. Now, let's talk, sige ?” Jeremy started to look around, frantic for anything he could use to interrupt this interaction.

A fire alarm! Jeremy rushed up to it, examining the label in the low light. Shit. I need a hammer. Jeremy started to look around, barely listening to the conversation behind him. Jeremy had just spotted the hammer under the cleaning supplies when a gunshot sounded.

Fuck, no! Jeremy rewound. He quickly pushed the cart out of the way and grabbed the hammer, smashing the glass. “No one would really miss your ‘ punk ass ’, would they?” Rich growled from around the corner.

Jeremy hit the fire alarm.

Jeremy covered his ears as the alarm blared, creeping over to the edge of the stall to watch.

“No fuckin’ way...” Rich murmured. The boy seemed stunned for a moment, but only for a moment. He kneed Rich in the stomach, scrambling away from the wall.

“Don't ever touch me again, freak!” He yelled at Rich, pushing his way out of the bathroom. Rich sighed and picked up his gun.

“Another shitty day,” He grumbled, and left the bathroom. Jeremy stood stock still for a moment.

I just saved that guy from getting shot. I saw someone die then not-die! What the fuck is going on! Do. No. Freak. Out. Jeremy hurried out of the bathroom straight into Diana the security guard at Blackwell. She was glowering down at Jeremy, who shrunk under her gaze.

Well, shit.

Chapter Text

“You heard the fire alarm, right?” Diana growled, jabbing her thumb towards the doors. “Get outside.”

“I, uh, had to use the restroom…?” Jeremy said pathetically, taking a few steps back from the five-foot menace. Why am I always the one who Diana picks on? Diana, the security guard of Blackwell, always had a bone to pick with Jeremy.

“‘Had to use the restroom’, huh?” She eyed Jeremy suspiciously, which only served to make him more nervous. “That’s what they always say. Just get movin’, private.” Jeremy nodded vigorously, giving Diana a wide berth as he headed towards the exit. Okay, I just need to get outside…

“Hold on, Jeremy.” A voice called out behind him, and his heart dropped. He reluctantly turned around, cursing every god he could think of, as he made his way over to Principal Reyes. “I noticed you looking a little stressed out, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Don’t front like you care.

“I’m fine.” Jeremy lied, staring at the ground. I just undead-ed someone. Why the fuck would I be okay?

“You’re sweating pinballs. Are you sure there’s nothing?” Principal Reyes asked with the same skepticism as Diana. “You can always be upfront with me, Jeremy. Or have you done something wrong... Is that it? Well, Jeremy? Talk to me.” Jeremy felt the anger boil up in his chest as he listened to Principal Reyes.

“I’m fine. ” He insisted again, looking up at Principal Reyes. “I just feel a little sick, that’s all.”

“Except you're wandering around like a zombie.” Principal Reyes stated that like it was a fact, ticking Jeremy off even more. So? “And do you think it's the first time a student has used that line on me? You’re not exactly at theater-kid acting level.” Jeremy winced, not expecting that. I guess there’s a reason why I never got a leading role.

“There’s nothing to hide, so just leave me alone,” Jeremy said, trying to hold the true contempt he held for Principal Reyes right now out of his voice. The alarm blaring in his ears didn’t exactly help him calm down, either. Principal Reyes shook his head, a displeased look plastered over his face.

“There's that teen 'tude again.” He said, crossing his arms. “You know, I've heard enough. Don't think I don't know what goes on around here. You've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict. I don't think your parents will approve when they find out. Now get outside with the class. Please. ” He turned away from Jeremy, clearly done with the conversation.

All the fight left Jeremy and he slunk out the doors, a whirlwind of emotions surrounding his thoughts. Great. I might as well flush my scholarship down the toilet, along with my head. He looked down at his right hand as he walked out, the warm afternoon air hitting him like a truck. No. I’m not going back. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he hurried down the steps, noticing the Missing posters for the second time today. I feel bad for his girlfriend.

As Jeremy walked by the pieces of art set up on campus, he felt his heartbeat start to slow in his chest. He was pulled out of his stupor by his phone buzzing in his pocket.

TheatreNerdGeek: Hey Jer! Could u give me back that flash drive of movies I gave u? Thanks! <3 <Sent: 3:48pm>

Jeremy smiled, glad to hear from Christine. Sure, they got made fun of for being friends, but she was the best thing about this school. No doubt about that.

PlayerTwo: Yeah, of course! Where are you? <sent 3:49 pm>

He leaned on the railing that headed down to the shared dorms as he texted.

TheatreNerdGeek: Parking Lot. U better be here in 10 <sent 3:49 pm>

Jeremy put his phone back in his pocket, looking down at the short flight of stairs. He started to walk down them, resisting the urge to slide down the rail. If I did that, my boney ass would probably fall and break my neck. He shivered at the thought and continued onto the dorms.

Despite the dorms being tucked away in the forest off to the side of Blackwell, the sun still shone down bright and hot. Sweat trickled down the back of Jeremy’s neck as he started towards the entrance of the dormitory, except for one obstacle. Chloe and Brooke were sitting on the front steps, gossiping about something he couldn’t care less about.

“...And so Jenna totally had sex with him. I mean, she’s all over that kinda guy, the slut. ” Chloe bragged to Brooke, who was listening like her life depended on it. That her social life depended on it, technically. Chloe finally looked up at Jeremy, who had been standing there awkwardly. “Oh, jeez. It’s the fucking pervert.” Jeremy could feel the sting of embarrassment as Brooke laughed at Chloe’s ‘joke’.

“Can I, uh, can I get into my, my-” He gestured stiffly at the doors, or at least what he thought was the doors. He didn't dare to look up from his converse. “-uh, the dorms? Please?”

“Aww, you better beg like a good boy!” Chloe sneered and barked a couple times to prove her point. She shoved Jeremy’s shoulder, which meant that she got up at some point. Which meant that Brooke stood up too. Jeremy dashed for the doors, trying to block out their laughter as he struggled to open the doorknob and get inside. He didn’t even need to see the people in the hall staring at him to know that they were judging him.

He ran to the end of the hall and up the stairs, not stopping once to get to his room. It was only when he closed his door and sat down against it did he allow himself to even think about what just happened. I hate Chloe. She’s hot, but I would rather jump out the window than even kiss her. Jeremy tried to shake off what just happened, but it was hard. He stood up again, forcing the tears back as he picked up Christine’s flash drive from his desk.

PlayerTwo: I got the flash drive <sent 3:55 pm>

Jeremy headed out the back entrance of the dorms, too embarrassed to face Chloe or anyone else again. He was wallowing in self-pity until he heard voices from around the corner.

“So don’t think I’m blind, I see everything here at Blackwell!” An all too familiar southern accent came from just a couple feet ahead of Jeremy. Shit! Not Diana! “Do you understand what I'm saying?” He peeked around the corner to see Diana threatening Jenna. And I thought I was the only one.

“No, and leave me alone!” Jenna sounded close to tears. She backed up, but Diana didn’t relent. Jeremy wanted to step out and help Jenna, but he knew that if he did, he would surely just make matters worse. So he snapped a photo instead.

“You can't fool me!” Diana jabbed a finger towards Jenna menacingly as Jeremy’s camera went off. “I know everything about this school. I cover the waterfront. So you better figure out what side you're on, missy,” Jenna looked down in fear as Diana walked off, rubbing her nose. She turned to walk back to the dorms, looking back up to see Jeremy.

“I hope you enjoyed the show, Jeremy. You’re just as mean as Chloe!” Her words stung, but the quiver in her voice stung even more. As Jenna stalked off to the dorms, Jeremy walked out to the parking lot, staring down at his feet.

“Boo!” Christine shouted in his ear, causing him to scramble back in surprise.

“Jesus, Chris! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry,” Christine laughed it off and gave Jeremy a hug. He slipped away from her grip and took out the flash drive, handing it to her.

“Here’s your flash drive,”

“Thanks!” Christine seemed to have an endless optimism. She snatched it out of Jeremy’s hands and examined it to make sure he didn't scratch anything. “So, what did you watch?”

“All of your illegal bootlegs, for sure,”

“Oh, shut up!” Christine’s words were mean, but she was grinning wildly. “How else are you supposed to watch them in the middle of nowhere?”

“Fair point…” Jeremy was interrupted by the sound of footsteps against the pavement.

“Hey! You!” Rich shouted at Jeremy, storming over to him. His fists were clenched by his sides. Something was up. “Jeremy Caulfield. You’re one of Jefferson’s groupies, right?” Rich shoved Christine, who yelped in surprise, to the side. Rich inserted himself between Christine and Jeremy.

“I’m, uh, one of his students?” Jeremy managed to say, looking down at Rich’s shoes. They were fancy dress shoes, something he could never afford.

“-Answer me, you dick!” Rich shouted in Jeremy’s ear, bringing him back to reality.

“Um, what are you, you talking about?” Jeremy winced, backing up against the nearest car. Rich followed him every step of the way.

Christine put a hand on Rich’s shoulder.
“Get away from him, dude.” She sounded like she was going to try to reason with him.

Rich pushed Christine away again.
“Hey, leave her alone!” Jeremy shoved Rich’s shoulder. He turned to Jeremy, furious. He grabbed Jeremy by the neck and held him up. Jeremy tried to pry Rich’s arm off of him with both hands, to no avail.
“Don’t tell me what to do! No one does. Not my parents, not the Principal, or that asshole in the bathroom!” Jeremy made a strangled noise as Rich clenched harder.

A beige truck screeched around the corner. Christine pulled Rich off of Jeremy.
“Hey! Get off of him!” Jeremy dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. He was level with the wheels of the truck.

Who the hell is that?

“Oh, you’ve got it coming now bitch!” Rich growled, slamming his forehead into Christine’s. She stumbled and fell onto the ground, clutching her head. The truck came to a screeching halt, alarmingly close to Jeremy’s head.

“ You! ” Rich shouted, infuriated. Jeremy used the hood of the car to stand up, holding his head. He glanced up.

The boy from the bathroom..?   There was something familiar about the shape of his face. How he held himself.

“Jeremy?” The boy sounded confused and excited. He looked like his jaw was going to drop on the ground, like in cartoons.

“ Michael? ”

Chapter Text

“I-is that you?” Jeremy’s voice broke unapologetically, staring unabashedly at Michael. He’d changed. Michael wasn’t wearing glasses, for one. His hoodie was also noticeably absent, a tank top that read Player 1 had been chosen instead. At least his hair still seemed familiar, the blue streak must’ve thrown him off. The grunting and the scuffing of shoes on asphalt told Jeremy that Christine had stood up. Christine tackled Rich, and Jeremy whipped around. All he could think was, Christine would tackle someone for me?

“Jeremy! Go! I’ve got this!” She shouted as Rich started to fight back. Michael swore from the car. He reached over and opened the door for Jeremy.

“Get in, Jer!” Michael shouted. The old nickname jogged Jeremy’s reflexes, and he scrambled over to the door as Rich stood up behind him. Shit shit shit shit-

Rich kicked the door closed, barely missing Jeremy’s foot. “Get your punk asses out of there now! ” Rich shouted. Michael shifted the car into gear. “Nobody messes with me! Nobody! ” Diana was running down the steps to check out the scene, but Jeremy and Michael were already on the road.

-

Jeremy watched the school shrink behind them, sighing and relaxing onto the seat.
“Rich Prescott is messed up. And dangerous. Damn, this day never ends…” He thought out loud.

Is Christine okay? God, I hope she doesn’t get swept up into this too. I wonder if Rich is going to get into-

“‘Oh, and thanks for saving my sorry ass, Michael!’ After five years, you’re still Jeremy Caulfield huh?” Michael chuckled dryly in the seat next to Jeremy, clutching the wheel.

Ouch… Michael had been his very best friend, of course he was glad to see him. But that really stung. Jeremy shifted and looked down at his feet.

Michael glanced over at Jeremy. His eyes went a little softer as he looked back at the road. “Don't give me the guilty face. You could, y’know, least pretend you're glad to see me.” He joked. Jeremy’s gaze shot up, his heart lifting.

“I am seriously glad to see you Micha,” Jeremy said. He was really being sincere, he missed Michael. Jeremy examined the car around him. It was beat up, bits of seat cushioning and springs sticking out at places. There was graffiti scattered around, most likely courtesy of Michael. The dashboard was trashed, fast food wrappers and soda cans cluttering the space. He looked up at the keychain hanging off of Michael’s rearview mirror. It had a Pac-man toy hanging off of it, and Jeremy couldn’t help but smile.

Cute… His happy mood faded as he thought again about Rich and Christine.

“Oh, and thanks, Michael. It makes sense I’d see you today,” Jeremy sighed. He didn’t know where the frustration came from, but Michael didn’t seem to take it seriously, shrugging.

“Yeah, it’s been that kind of day.” Michael sighed through his nose. “Anyways, what did that freak want with you?”

Jeremy leaned against the window. “...Hopefully nothing after today.” He glanced over at Michael. “So, um, how do you know Rich...?” He asked, fidgeting with his shirt. Jeremy felt even more like a nerd in front of Michael. Even though Michael was wearing the nerdiest shirt Jeremy could think of, Michael had a tattoo now. Almost a full sleeve. And the way he spoke… Michael was just so badass now.

“Just another Arcadia asshole, m aliit na ebak . ” Michael used to be embarrassed whenever he slipped up and spoke tagalog. He must’ve stopped caring when Jeremy left. “Y’know, your friend really took a beat down for you back there.” Michael’s tone was a little appraising, but mostly indifferent. “Christine? Yeah… I really owe her.” Jeremy had to catch himself before he slipped out of the present again.

“You’re not the only one in debt.” Michael sounded vaguely annoyed. “You just got back and you’re already causing trouble, huh?” A smile tugged at Jeremy’s lips as he watched Michael. “I thought it’d be all quiet and peaceful here,” He answered honestly. “It feels so weird to be back,” He reached out to touch Michael’s hair subconsciously. “You’ve changed. A lot.” Michael swatted Jeremy’s hand away quickly.

“I...” Michael cleared his throat. “Hey, ever heard of a thing call ‘not distracting the driver’? Cause that’s the opposite of what you’re doing right now.” He laughed, but it was forced. “So I guess New Jersey sucked hard?” He sounded strangely hopeful. Jeremy quickly retracted his hand, embarrassed.

“I... I guess,” He answered Michael’s question, struggling to regain the little composure he had. “It was cool, but… I was really lonely. It was too big yet not too big that you could do anything. I’m the middle. Everything about was just kinda in the middle,” He didn’t know why it was so easy to spill everything around Michael. Jeremy’s mind kept going back to the fact that Michael was here. It felt like old times, in a strange way. Michael scoffed beside Jeremy.

“Yeah, right. You came back for Blackwell Academy and you know it.” Michael looked playful, but his tone was ever so slightly hurt. Jeremy didn’t catch it.

“Only for Mark Jefferson,” Jeremy swooned jokingly, and then smiled wide. “He was a pretty famous photographer in the '90s... I've always loved his work,” Michael rolled his eyes.

“Well, maybe he can shoot but who said he could teach? I'm glad you found a good reason to come back, anyways.” The way Michael said things now was always toeing the line of sarcasm. Most of the time you couldn’t even tell if it was sarcastic or not, but these words were dry. Michael actually meant this.

Jeremy frowned, his heart clenching in his chest. “Michael… Don’t you think I’m happy to see you?” His voice was soft, but Michael didn’t seem to react to the change in Jeremy’s tone.

“ No. You were happy to wait five years without a call, or even a text.” Michael responded flatly. Jeremy felt all the guilt rise up at once, clutching his throat, stabbing his heart.

“I-I...” Jeremy started, looking away from Michael guiltily. He swallowed hard and looked back at Michael. “I’m sorry… I know things were hard on you.” Jeremy felt so bad for not contacting Michael after he left, especially after Michael’s mom died.

“How did you know? You weren’t even here.” Michael snapped back, his fingers drumming the wheel absentmindedly. Jeremy felt like crying, but he’d never let himself. Not now, not in front of Michael.

“I didn't order my dad to move specifically to fuck you over, Michael! Just…” Jeremy sighed to himself in frustration. Michael didn’t backtrack and apologize for upsetting Jeremy like before, nor did he just go silent.

“Wala’ akong pake.You've been at Blackwell for almost a month without letting me know.” Michael spat out. Jeremy leaned on his knees. He already felt drained from this conversation.

When did talking with Michael get so hard?

“I just wanted to settle in a little. I wanted to try and be someone different than the ‘weird loser geek’. I was gonna call you, I swear.” Jeremy felt guilty. In truth, he just didn’t want to deal with the repercussions.

Michael sighed, biting his lip.“I bet you don't use these sad excuses on Mr. Jefferson. Don't use them on me, Jer.” Michael’s tone wasn’t harsh per say, just saying it flat out from his mind without any filter. Jeremy sighed and leaned against the seat, feeling thoroughly defeated. Michael slouched and leaned his head against his palm, driving with one hand.

The sunset filtered through the trees bordering the street. The Golden Hour. Jeremy began to think about how many good shots he could possibly get. He reached down to grab his camera from his bag.

Maybe I can take a picture of Michael. The sun framing him is just perfect, if I just…

Jeremy pulled his camera, his heart dropping. The front shell was almost completely popped off, the film compartment half open and twisted at a weird angle.

Fuck, that’s twenty dollars worth of film wasted!

“Busted...” Jeremy muttered. Michael glanced over. “Are you cereal?” Jeremy looked down at his camera dejectedly. Michael laughed, and Jeremy suddenly didn’t feel disappointed at all.

“Wow, haven't heard that one in a while…” Michael murmured, grinning. Jeremy blinked quickly, disappointment gripping him again.

How will I take pictures for class? Shit!

“Not everything changes, except my camera has officially taken a shit.” Jeremy groaned, looking at Michael. He was still smiling. “Hey! It’s not funny, Michael! I have to use this for class!”

“Hey Jer, chill out!” Michael raised his eyebrow, but he didn’t stop grinning. “My step-douche has a boatload of tools. Maybe you can fix it at my place?”

Jeremy sighed, studying the damages. “I need very specific, tiny tools,” He said, exasperated.

“Don’t underestimate the power of a shitty step-mom,” Michael warned, bumping Jeremy’s knee lightly with his own. “She has a fully-stocked garage. And she actually is quite a tool.” Michael turned the corner, his house just down the block. Jeremy felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, smiling.

“Fine. I’m sold.” Jeremy sighed, putting his camera back into his bag. Michael pulled up into the driveway, unlocking the doors. He slid out, shutting the door behind him. Jeremy followed suit after slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking up at the house. “It’s still… Nice.”

Michael snorted. “Home, shit, home. Come in.” Michael pushed open the door to the house.