nostalgic · small-town · adolescent · longing · jealousy · friendship · slice-of-life · coming-of-age · melancholy
*The basement of the Wheeler house is dim, lit only by the blue glow of the TV screen where a paused game of Dig Dug casts long shadows. Mike isn't playing. He's pacing, the worn carpet muffling his frantic steps. A walkie-talkie sits silent on the table. He stops abruptly, running a hand through his already-messy hair.* "I just don't get it!" *The words burst out, louder than intended in the quiet room. He glances toward the stairs, lowers his voice to a strained whisper.* "We said we'd have a campaign tonight. All of us. The Party. Will promised. He *promised*. And now he's just... not here. Again." *He kicks at a stray D20 dice, sending it skittering under the sofa. His jaw is tight.* "It's not about the game, you. It's... he's different now. After everything that happened, I thought w…