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Mondo stood there in the middle of the room staring at Michael’s door. After this morning’s elimination and Michael’s subsequent breakdown, (off-camera) he had helped Michael move into another, more affordable hotel - then stayed. He’d wait until morning before heading back to work on his collection. Tentatively he walked over to Michael’s door and knocked even as he opened it.
The curtains were drawn back, leaving the room highlighted by luminous lights that allowed Mondo to see the outline of Michael’s body, buried under the covers, sleeping.
Mondo cleared his throat. Michael didn’t move.
Mondo waited even though it was obvious that Michael was sound asleep. His fingers gripped the door jamb; he knew he should just make himself leave - go back to back to the couch or even back to his own hotel, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t leave Michael alone, not after the nightmare he himself had just awoken from. Although it had been a nightmare, distorted and exaggerated, it was based in reality. It was everything that had happened to Michael, only it wasn’t Ivy calling Michael a cheater, it was him. In the dream, Mondo had repeated all the things that the others had said, things that the real Michael didn’t even know about – that he had never told Michael. To Mondo's shame, he had played a part in creating that gossip before they partnered together.
Licking his lips, Mondo nervously swallowed and called out in a hushed whisper, “Michael?” Then louder as he walked into the room, “Michael, you still up?”
“Mmmm, what?” Sleepily Michael pushed up, rubbing his eyes. “Mondo?”
Contrite, Mondo looked down, knowing he shouldn’t be there and suddenly feeling ridiculous... especially now when he had no idea what to say. “Yeah, sorry, I shouldn’t have… “
Michael interrupted, concern etched in his voice. “What’s going on? You okay? Come on over here.” Michael scooted over even as he spoke, pulling the blanket and sheet down, silently inviting Mondo to get in and sit beside him. “Can’t sleep?”
Mondo shrugged but complied as he scooted in next to Michael. Michael stilled, waiting and letting him settle.
He couldn’t stop his mind from racing. It wasn’t right that Michael was offering him comfort – it should be the other way around. Especially after everything that happened today. He should be comforting his friend, and he wasn’t.
It only made Mondo feel worse, adding to the guilt he felt for ever listening to Ivy and Gretchen in the first place. He could only be thankful that on the earlier challenge he had drawn Michael’s name. That’s when everything had changed. Once he'd actually worked with Michael, he'd seen the truth. There was no doubt that Michael did things differently. He wasn’t trained, not like Mondo and the other designers were. Instead he was self-taught, a natural talent. Michael found unique and inventive ways to avoid making and working with patterns. It had been those differences that Ivy couldn’t see past. Thankfully once he'd partnered with Michael, Mondo had discovered the truth. Had seen it for himself, how hard Michael worked, how willing he was to do whatever Mondo asked- even when he'd worn the tiara and been a royal bitch. He'd even admitted it on camera; he'd wanted Michael to know he was sorry for jumping to conclusions on hear-say.
He'd been mortified by his behavior and that was the beginning, the turning point that started their friendship.
Now he could honestly say he was proud to call Michael his friend, and happy that they'd remained friends even after they made the top four and were sent home.
Even as competitors, while working on their collections, they still called each other. Of course they talked about fashion and their collections - it was their life, their passion. But they also talked about everything else too.
Everything: from the small things ridiculous things like the new knock-knock jokes Michael would bombard him with to entertain his son, to deeper, private aspects of their lives – of their families, even their partners, Ben and Richard. How they had been there for them, and sometimes how or when they weren’t there. They shared experiences of growing up, sharing imitate details they didn’t on the show. Since he had been on the show it had been easier, but there were certain things like the day he found out he was positive. The inexplicable numbness - how alone he felt. It wasn’t the safety of talking over the phone, or even that he knew Michael - it was something about Michael that made him comfortable enough to talk about that day and the following days.
Whenever they’d talk to each other... for him it only cemented who Michael C was as a person, a designer, and someone Mondo could genuinely call his friend. He found their friendship strengthening with every phone call.
Watching Michael’s elimination this morning and his painful break down – it hurt Mondo on so many levels when he realized how much Michael had bottled up. Mondo recognized the feelings of basic rejection, the need for acceptance that was something he understood all too well. He realized that Michael’s breakdown had less to do with his designs and the outside possibility of not making it in the fashion world – instead it had everything to do with Michael wanting the win to prove his worth to his family, his friends, even himself.
He shuddered remembering the intensity of Michael’s melt down.
Michael’s hand pressed harder, rubbing soothing circles on his back; he gently cooed to him, like Mondo imagined Michael did with his son, telling him it’d be okay.
Mondo felt crushed by the weight of his emotions, short of breath as he worriedly voiced, “I’m sorry. You told me about your family, but I didn’t understand it was that bad... not until this morning.”
Michael shushed him. “Is that what’s keeping you up?”
“I shoul…”
“Don’t. You were great. You gave me a real chance.” Michael shrugged then turned Mondo’s way, the corners of his mouth lifting, his gaze serious. “More than anyone else did.”
Mondo adamantly shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to partner with you, I had…” Embarrassed, Mondo looked away, his fingernail digging at the stitching on the spread as he remembers what he'd thought about Michael.
Michael’s hand covered his, stopping him. “It doesn’t matter, you still ended up having my back – and you told them. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I’m grateful.” Sitting up taller, Michael declared, “And I don’t care. Well, let me amend that; I do care that they’ll be replaying my breakdown a zillion times.” Hands covering his face, Michael whined. “Oh god, UTube, I'll never hear the end of it, crying like a mic bebelus.”
Mondo nudged him until Michael looked up. “You won’t be the only one.”
“What?”
“Our first night, I was miserable. I thought everyone hated me, including you. I curled up and had a good self pity cry. I've; already been told they’re going to use it.”
“No way!” Michael shook his head, laughing. “We’re a good pair, aren’t we?”
“Yeah we are. You going to be okay?”
“Better once you win- if I can’t take the crown, I want it to be you, you deserve it.” Michael leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, only the warmth of his lips lingering after he pulled back. Michael suddenly shifted. “Come on, get comfy... you need to sleep. No more worrying, okay.” Michael didn’t wait for his answer, but gently tucked the blankets around them both.
It only took them a few minutes to get comfortable, with Michael behind him almost spooning him. Michael’s voice lowered to a hushed sleepy tone, “Now sleep and no more bad dreams.”
Mondo felt Michael shift and knew he was falling back to sleep. Mondo tried to sleep, but he couldn’t shut off his mind, and now it had nothing to do with the final runway. Instead he thought about Michael’s kiss.
Michael shifted closer his arm pulling Mondo flush against him. “Shush, sleep.”
Startled, Mondo’s mind nonetheless obediently shut down even as his body stiffened. Michael didn’t say anything, but must have felt his reaction and started to pull away. Mondo gripped his arm, holding him in place. Michael hesitated then fully spooned his body. For the first time since he got into Michael’s bed, Mondo relaxed and it was because he was in Michael’s secure embrace. He didn’t want to wonder why, if it meant anything. Instead Mondo closed his eyes and smiled, enjoying the comfort Michael’s presence offered – and slept.
Fin~