Michael's eyes glazed over as his weary eyes scanned the pages of his textbook. He drawled a shaky sigh then leaned back in his chair, lightly pinched the bridge of his nose and evident to how exhausted he was. If he read one more word, his brain would explode. He drew himself from his chair, stretching in the process, letting his sore neck loll to the side to regain it's feeling back after reading Macbeth for over an hour. He certainly wasn't looking forward to his English test tomorrow but all of the students seemed elated about it as if it were the championship games. The stress of the test was really getting to him. He wasn't the type to intentionally blow off a test because he actually cared, cared about what Angel would think of him if he did such a thing. Michael looked over at Steve to see him tapping the end of his pencil against his textbook. Michael rolled his eyes at him, a grin pulling on the corners of his lips and a light chuckle bouncing gently off the walls.

It was to Steve's surprise when he received a pillow to his face, nearly knocking him off of his bed. Blinking a few times and vigorously shaking his head, his stunned expression melted into a look of utter confusion at his roommate.

"What was that for?" Steve demanded. Michael stared at him for a moment until he burst out laughing.

"Take a break, man," Michael urged between laughs, his hands holding his stomach, "We have plenty of time to study." Once his laughter had quelled, Steve shot him a furious look.

"Well," he began sternly, "you can procrastinate all you want, Mr. Jackson but I have seven exams to study for. Now, if you don't mind, I would like some peace and quiet so that I may continue my-?!" Michael's incessant laughter engulfed the room once more once his pillow collided with the side of Steve's head.

"Michael!" Steve exclaimed.

"Steve!" Michael bellowed. His laughter was contagious and Steve knew it because several moments later, Steve was doubling over, roaring out in laughter as well. Amusement glinted in Michael's eyes as he went after Steve, swinging wildly and hardly giving the unfortunate brunette anytime to block his attacks.

"Come on, Stevie! I'm sure those two weeks in gym class shouldn't be put to waste!"

One moment Michael was looking at Steve, the next he was staring up at the ceiling with a stunned look. Steve laughed.

"How's that for two weeks worth of gym class?" Steve asked in a cocky tone with a smirk planted on his lips. Michael brushed back an ebony lock behind his ear, returning the smirk.

"Not bad." Michael stumbled to his feet and tossed his pillow on his bed.

"Hey, Michael, let's do something crazy!" Michael stifled a laugh.

"And what crazy thing would you like to do, Stevie? Run in the hallway with scissors?" Michael teased.

"Yeah! Let's do that! I wanna be bad just like you used to be!"

"Used to be, Steve. Once you go down that road, it's hard to find your way back." Steve groaned in frustration.

"Come on, Michael! I just want to look only one way before crossing!" Micael rolled his eyes and couldn't avoid the urge to chuckle at his lack of rebellion.

"Sure you want to do that now but next thing you know, you want to tell a lie, start a fire, rob stores, get into fights... The list is endless!" Steve frowned but it soon quirked into a smile.

"Then tell me what you used to do." Michael shook his head, propping his weight against his beside and crossing his arms over his chest.

"If I told you all of the stuff that I did," he began bitterly, "your ears will rot."

"Cool!"

"No it's not," Michael snapped, sighing softly when he had hurt Steve. "Sorry. It's just that..." he sighed shakily then met Steve's eyes.

"There are just some things I'm not proud of." Steve frowned slightly as he joined Michael's side.

A heavy silence settled between them, almost like a chasm.

"Why is it so easy to turn bad?" Steve abruptly asked, startling himself from the sudden question. Michael smiled at the question, recalling the moment he had asked Jackie the same exact question.

Jackie had told him with a tender smile, 'It's because turning bad is jus' as easy as drawin' a bumpy line. Drawin' a straight line is hard for most people and natural for others. To get that line to be straight, you got to keep practicing. When your bad, you have to spend your time practicing good works. No one is perfect, son, remember that.'

"Because no one is perfect," Michael told him simply. He averted his gaze down to the floor, a crush of memories overwhelming his mind. He had never before told anyone about Jackie and Angel. He was always afraid that if his audience liked them, they would take them away from him. He knew that he was being selfish but it was something that couldn't be helped, wouldn't be helped. The words of his past were out before it was thought out.

"I was one of those kids no one could tame," Michael began in a bitter tone, his voice harsher than he had intended it to be, "I was a lot more angrier back then than I am now."

"That must have been a trip," Steve muttered under his breath and received a hard elbow to his side.

"I fell into the wrong kind of people, thugs, hoodlums, everything that people despised. I was always getting into trouble because in Brooklyn, every corner you turn, there was some action waiting to be explored and usually, I was the one who caused all of the action. I got chased by the police, robbed stores, robbed civilians, started fires, sold drugs..." Michael's lips trailed off and his voice dimmed down into a soft murmur. Steve patiently waited for him to speak.

"I often started fights because of my mouth. People would beat me senseless and sometimes, I would beat them. I enjoyed their pain and they enjoyed mine. Basically, I was hopeless, a hopeless thug that wanted attention. One night, my mouth really got the best of me and before I knew it, I was bleeding to death in an alley. I really thought that I was going to die but when I had lost all hope, Angel found me and took me to her home." He smiled and recalled the brilliant memory that was still fresh in his mind, as if it had just happened recently.

"She didn't ask for anything in return and even if she did, it wouldn't be something selfish. She would have asked my friendship in return to express my gratitude. From the moment I first met her, I thought that she was really pretty but strange. She made me feel..." he took a moment to ponder for the right selection of words, "...guilty sometimes. She would make me feel like crying. I felt like that if I cried to her, she wouldn't mind, like she would accept me, you know? Not get angry with me or anything? And she never did. She didn't get annoyed, she didn't push me away, and she didn't tell me to get over it. She held me. I've never been held before in my entire life and when she held me, it was like entering a whole other world where gravity didn't exist and my mind was only at peace. I didn't have to worry about anything when I was with her. I felt invincible." He dragged his sleeves across his eyes.

"I didn't know why she would keep me in her presence. I was nothing but trouble for her. I used to wish that she would just stay away from me but she proved to me time and time again that she wanted to be with me. When we first started hanging out, people in the halls would spread rumors about us, saying that we weren't really friends and that Angel was actually a bad person. No one could believe that we were actually friends, not that I could blame them though. But they didn't have to talk so badly of her. I didn't care what people thought of me but when they talked about Angel, I got angry and when that happens, the end is not pretty." Steve winced slightly.

"Gee, Michael. I didn't do anything." Michael stifled a chuckle.

"I'm sorry, Steve." Michael sighed, "Anyways, people began to accept the fact that we were friends. Her personality was beginning to rub off on me and before I knew it, I was growing soft. The girl was changing my ways. She made me feel like Hitler. And her grandfather... He was like a father to me. My father had returned to my life but he hadn't improved much. He only pitied me, I know that for a fact."

"Jackie Wilson? He's awesome. He's the best man I have ever met." Michael smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, he is. He always welcomed me into his home like I was one of the family. He listened to my dumb stories no matter how gruesome they were. He actually cared about me. It made me happy to be around those two. I knew my way around their home more than my own. Because of them, I went to school more often, got involved into classes and actually answered questions I would usually dodge. I knew that if I went to school, I could see more of Angel and then at the end of the day, I would be able to see Jackie. I was never afraid to be myself around them. I didn't have to put on my mask in order to fit in. They were always there for me, never far away when I needed them. Whenever I would get down, when I thought I wasn't going to make it, I would turn around, and Angel would be standing there, smiling." Steve smiled.

"She is the loyal dependable type." Michael nodded.

"I... I would do so many things to get her attention. This guy at my school would always flirt with her just to tick me off. He was the leader of this gang called the "Vipers", the main target of the "Rebels", me and my best friend's gang." Steve's eyes widened.

"You were a hardcore delinquent!" Michael laughed.

"Not as hardcore as Mini Max. He was a killer."

Literally.

"I practically looked up at the guy, like a brother though but he wasn't always there for me like Jackie and Angel was. When I needed him most, he wasn't there. When we were about to get into a gang fight, he left me standing alone. When the police came after us, he ditched me. He was unfaithful, distrusting, evil." He took light calming breaths to ease the rage boiling in his insides.

"I sold drugs..." Steve glanced over at him, "...so I could buy her gifts. I bought her this really expensive necklace to signify how much I care about her but when she realized how I had bought her it, she returned it. I remember that I got so angry, anything would convince me to do something I would regret. I robbed a store that following night and got arrested but fortunately, Jackie bailed me out and I told him everything from when I first met Angel." Michael paused. "You know that show Born to Dance?"

"Yeah. I saw it when they first aired. Why?"

"Well, I got Angel on that show."

"No way!" Steve bellowed, "That's awesome!"

"Yeah but there were times I regretted ever giving her the flyer for the auditions. During those times, I would barely see her and I felt so lonely. She missed our dates, missed half of first period, and several hours of her free time. I was glad that she came to my house and apologized about it."

"It sucks how you make her out as the bad guy." Michael nudged his side.

"Whatever."

"So, how's Jackie these days?" Steve asked and Michael felt his heart stop. He swallowed dryly, struggling to fight back his tears.

"He died," Michael replied shakily, his voice breaking, "I don't know how it happened and I don't know who did it. All I know is that it was the second most worse day of my life."

"What's the worse day of your life?" Steve asked, cringing. Their eyes locked.

"The day Angel broke my heart." Michael averted his gaze down to where his toes curled under his sneakers. "It really is amazing how someone can break your heart and you still love them with all of the little pieces..."

"Why did she break up with you?" Michael sighed deeply.

"She said that I didn't love her and I did and I do. I wish I knew my mistake. She didn't tell me what I did wrong so how will I be able to make it right if I don't know what my wrong is?" Steve shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe she finally cracked." Michael clutched onto his pillow and whacked him upside his head, knocking him off of the bed.

"This is Angel Wilson we're talking about here, Steve! Not a fake!" Michael shrieked when Steve whacked him with his pillow.

"You are so dead, Steve!" Michael shouted as he chased Steve down the hallway.