#long awaited sequel

Mirio turned on his side, a bit alarmed from the ruckus he could make out from the call.

"Y/N? What was that all about?"

You sighed as you placed your phone on the bedside table.

"My family has now decided they are concerned that they weren't invited to my graduation."

Mirio's brow furrowed, "But you did-”

You waved your hand dismissively, "I know, I know. But it doesn't matter unless they decide it does. Which means that Friday night is now booked for a 'celebration dinner.' "

He scoffed, "You're not thinking about going, are you?"

Despite the concern etched into your face, you relented. And you were wound up tight until you found yourself days later ringing the doorbell to your folks’ place. Mirio stood close behind. If this was going down on your parent’s territory, he was going to be there for you. Fortunately, dinner was finished, which just meant that all that was missing was the show. A show that just would not end. The topic never steered your way. You were barely even acknowledged at all. And in the moments that someone did ask about you, someone else had the answer. Initially, it was morbidly comical, until it kept happening. Over and over. 

“So what was your major, again?” Your dad had queried after about thirty minutes of conversation. 

Your lips parted only for your sister to pipe in, “They were in liberal arts. Something about journalism,” 

You fixed your mouth as you were about to elaborate, until your mother found something else to talk about. Mirio traded a comforting smile when you glanced at him. Being ignored wasn’t unfamiliar. And if Mirio wasn’t watching this go down, maybe you wouldn’t want to bury yourself in the backyard. Mirio, on the other hand, couldn’t understand what was happening. It had been an hour since you two walked in, and not a single word about your graduation. Also known as the whole reason you were there. Mirio cleared his throat and piped in. 

“So, how was Jaqueline’s graduation?” 

Everyone in the room froze. You couldn’t tell if Mirio was genuinely asking, or if he was just being petty. But, it was kinda hilarious. If only your mom thought it was funny, too. 

“How does he know about Jacqueline?”

You looked between Mirio, who was currently finishing his green beans, and your mother’s passive glare. You matched her expression, “He was at my graduation,” 

Your mother wasn’t amused with your tone, although you hadn’t lied. She sighed, her expression melting into a mask of pity. 

“Honey, I’m sorry we missed your day. But that doesn’t give you the right to dispel our family business to…to strangers,” 

“Strangers?” you scoffed. Almost laughing at her conclusion, “I don’t invite strangers to my graduation dinner,”

“Y/N, he’s a stranger to us. Besides, Jacqueline invited us. And you know her family situation isn’t the best. She needed the support,” your mother reasoned. 

“Yeah, isn’t her dad like…” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, and took several deep breaths to control the swelling pressure in your chest. Somehow, your family’s second chance at redemption had turned into another conversation about someone else. Your chair harshly scraping the floor got Mirio’s attention. He watched you retreat to the kitchen with your plate in hand.

Your sibling snorted, finding this hilarious all of the sudden, "Jacqueline only graduated high school. What are they acting so sensitive for?” 

“Public Relations,” Mirio blurted out. 

Your parents paused, confused. Mirio clarified, “Their major, it was Public Relations. Journalism was her first major, before she had her accident,”

After a few seconds of silence, Mirio realized they were still confused. They didn’t know? Your car accident from your exhaustion, your internship at Mirio’s agency, the year of speed-running your new major to get to graduation. Originally, Mirio was peeved that your own family would miss your graduation, but this? That was easily two years of your life they so haplessly ignored. 

“Mirio,” You re-emerged through the doorway. You were ready to call it a night until your dad piped in. 

“What accident?” You froze. He reiterated, “Mirio said you had an accident at school,”

You blinked a couple times before you let out a breathless chuckle, one that spoke more to exhaustion than humor. In fact, your entire frame screamed that you were just done. 

You slumped against the doorway, “Yeah, I had an accident. Two years ago. But you guys were having a family reunion out of town. I also had an internship at Mirio’s agency. But when I texted you about it, she was about to go to prom.” you gestured to your sibling, whose smugness had morphed into discomfort, “I didn’t even want to put up those pictures about my graduation because I knew that none of you would even bother to look at what I did! In fact, why are we even here, right now? Huh, oh wait it’s for the graduation you ‘couldn’t make’.” 

Your mother attempted smooth things over, “You don’t get to throw that in our face. We didn’t raise you to be ungrateful,” 

You paused, “Grateful? You think I should be grateful for you trying to pretend like you care, but this entire time you haven’t asked me a single question about anything. You didn’t even know my major!” 

“Honey, we…we’re trying to make it up to you with this. I thought maybe this would inspire you to let your walls down and maybe talk to us, and you…You were hiding things. You knew you could talk to us, and instead you find this stranger to replace your own family,” 

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you actually make an effort to be in my life. Maybe check your phones before claiming that I don’t talk to you about anything!” 

You think your dad said something, but you were already heading out of the dining room, and out of that house, with Mirio following behind you. Guilt and relief fought for space in your heart. On the one hand, you wished you could be grateful for the dinner. You wished that you could believe your mother when she called you in tears about missing your graduation. But that fiasco of an apology… Just thinking back to it made your chest tighten. It was wrong. All of it was wrong. 

Mirio grabbed your hand once the door closed  to your shared home. You quickly avoided those saddened eyes. You didn’t have the energy to get into it. Of course, you’d be angry about this for a few days. The line of offenses spanned further than the accident. Mirio slowly walked up. You braced for a look of pity. But Mirio didn’t have it in him to find you pathetic. It wasn’t your fault. He covered you in his arms, shielding your pretty face from the world. He pressed his lips into the crown of your head. 

“I am so sorry you had to deal with that,” 

You pulled away, only a smidge since his arms barely budged. You were confused, cause that was quite literally your thought. Mirio didn’t need to see any of that. Especially this early into your relationship. Wouldn’t that affect how he saw you from now? Remorse etched into every crease of his handsome face. And seeing that truly allowed you to feel. Your brows knit together. It really was that bad. You sucked in a sharp breath. It hurt so much. You dug your fingers into the back of his shirt, your first broken sob breaking the dam on years of neglect.