Mike looked at Matt, who stretched out an inviting hand in his direction. His head was pounding, the thoughts and the alcohol clouding his judgement. But in the midst of it all was his friend, no, his best friend, who's hand was clear as day. Mike managed a smile.
"I'd-"
BZZT. BZZT. BZZT.
The man jolted out of his stupor, his eyes darting to the rectangle in his pocket. As he clumsily yanked it out, a photo of her girlfriend flashed while the phone kept vibrating in the background.
"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" He said, watching as Matt mirrored his panic.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Matt hissed. "Answer it!"
Mike's expression faltered. "But-"
He looked at the screen again. With a sigh, he answered Claire.
"Heyyy," he said, to which Matt facepalmed in the background.
"Let me guess," the voice on the other side said tiredly, "guys night out, got too drunk, couldn't call me?"
Mike grimaced. If it wasn't for the fact that he slept with his best friend, he'd be relieved to hear her voice again. He glanced at Matt, who shrugged. He cleared his throat.
"Yeah. Sorry babe, but it's routine, y'know?"
He could practically hear her eye roll in the silence that followed.
"Whatever. Just...be careful for me, okay M?"
Mike's shoulders sagged at the shift in her tone. He didn't deserve her, and by the way Matt guiltily looked beyond the alley way they crammed themselves into, his best friend knew it too. He forced a chuckle.
"Always, Claire."
He stayed on the line a moment longer, hearing her breaths slow as they stared the moment. She had definitely been more worried than she let on. Finally, she spoke again:
"I love you, get home safe. Bye."
She hung up without reply. Mike let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He looked up and-