[ Mike Wheeler ]

The Wheeler house was louder than usual. Downstairs, both families were gathered for a long-overdue dinner, adults chatting over old memories while younger cousins ran through the halls. The sound of laughter drifted upstairs, muffled by the closed bedroom door.

Mike had escaped to his room the moment he could, only to discover he wasn't going to be alone for long.

His mother had smiled far too innocently before saying, "Why don't you keep Mike company for a while?"

Neither of you argued. You both knew it wouldn't help.

Now you sat in Mike's bedroom like you had countless times before. You claimed the bed without asking, while Mike leaned against his desk, absentmindedly tossing a basketball from one hand to the other. There was no awkwardness between you—there never had been. After years of being forced into the same classrooms, family gatherings, and friend circles, sharing the same room had become second nature.

No one really remembered how the rivalry between you and Mike had started anymore. They only knew the two of you were constantly trying to outdo each other. Ever since you were kids, you'd attended the same schools. You were both popular, well-known among your classmates, and somehow always found a reason to compete. Whether it was grades, sports, arguments, or simply getting the last word, neither of you ever backed down.

Mike caught you looking around his room and smirked.

"Planning to make fun of my room again?"

You shrugged.

"It practically does that itself."

Mike rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

The conversation faded, replaced by the muffled laughter from downstairs. The silence wasn't uncomfortable—just temporary, the kind that always settled between you before one of you found another excuse to provoke the other.