In the era of instant access, Michael has no choice but to compromise. His new phone is old, scraped up around the edges, and has a terrible camera. Hal goes with him to buy the new phone, having nothing better to do on their day off and feeling bad about getting them both kicked out of the bar. While he might be banned, Michael is fortunately not. Try as Wrenn might to convince his boss, she wouldn't budge on the matter since Michael did peel him away from the guy.

"Now what?" Hal asks as soon as they walk out into the loud, sunny streets.

The idea of wandering around aimlessly is already too much for him. Between dehydration and insomnia, Michael thinks he'll just keel over if something goes wrong. Living in a city where everything goes wrong all the time means they need to get off the streets immediately. There is a mall on the verge of closing after a series of incidents, dozens of bars that won't open for until the sun starts to set, and overpriced cafes selling bean water, leaf juice, and prepackaged macarons.

With no other option, they go loiter in the mall like a couple of teenagers. It's quiet, almost empty, and warm. One side is boarded up, several stores have plastic over their windows, and the wedding boutique that is never open sits there like the beacon of a lost era. The mannequin is dusty and the dress is yellowing. Michael still remembers when employees came to change the dress, showcasing several wedding trends that he never understood.

"Why do you think weddings need to be trendy?" He asked Hal.

He shrugs. "They don't."

Michael nods, taking in the sage wisdom of a man who doesn't contemplate things any deeper than he has to. "Why do you think people want trendy weddings?"

"It only happens once in your lifetime." He hums, stopping Michael from popping off with some smart remark. "Ideally."

"Ideally." He repeats. "Do you want to get married?"

"To you? Never." Michael slugs him. "If it happens, it'll happen."

"That doesn't answer my question."

It's a pointless conversation after that. Hal dodges all attempts to clarify what he wants for his future and Michael gets tired of everything being spun into a joke. They abandon the wedding boutique and head to an area with more people. Vendors sell cheap food here at a premium. If it were anywhere else, no one would've given any of them the time of day. It's the mall, though, and so the sin of selling someone lukewarm pizza at the price of two hot pizza slices from an actual restaurant is forgiven.

While they're eating, she arrives with a couple of friends. Her hair is glossier, cheeks a bit more red, and she's in a sundress. Hal follows his gaze before side eyeing him. "That guy wasn't serious, was he?"

"Guy? What?"

"The one that called you a stalker." Hal looked very uncomfortable.

It felt like someone dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. "No. I just-" He mumbles and fumbles with his words, making excuses to buy time, before deciding to give him a false lead. "I guess I do like her. I'm not a stalker, though."

Hal's shoulders fall and he sighs in relief. "Then you should talk to her before there are any more misunderstandings."

Michael can't look him in the eye. "Yeah."

He knows he's the one in the wrong, but the way Hal looked at him made him feel indignant. They're friends. At least, he's pretty sure they are. Shouldn't he be more concerned than afraid? Isn't that how this normally goes? Michael doesn't have many, if any, real examples to draw from. Just things he's heard and read about. The idea Hal might just turn on him makes his skin crawl.

When he goes to the bathroom, Michael debates leaving without a word. Neither of them owed each other their time or explantions. Before leaving, though, he tries to get a picture. It's blurry, the lighting is bad, and he curses Wrenn under his breath as he does his best to compensate for everything an older camera just can't do. His effort is rewarded with a rare photo of her outside of work, laughing and looking livelier than he's ever seen her.

It brings back the image of ruined sparrows' nests. In order to ruin something, it has to be unspoiled to some degree. He thinks he loves her but these fleeting moments remind him that he doesn't. If she were like this more often, Michael wouldn't have even bothered to consider her existence at all. Her happiness warps the image that he forced onto her.

By the time Hal gets back, he's already halfway through an existential crisis. Life is meaningless mess of excuses, he's mourning the kid who would have never guessed this where he'd end up, and there isn't a lot he can do about either. Not without great effort and the willingness to change that he didn't have in him. Michael could swear by what he's feeling, make grand declarations, but soon enough he'll be back at that bar, collecting photos, and wasting his entire life doing it.

"Are you alright?" Hal asks.

Michael nods and gets up, forcing himself to do anything but cry about it. Crying doesn't fix anything and just makes him look pitiful and disgusting. "I just thought about how full this mall used to be."

"That was before either of us came here." He said.

He nods. "I can still think about it."

"Sure." Hal wraps and arm over his shoulder and guides them back to the parking lot. "Want to visit one of my favorite bars?"

"You mean one you haven't been banned from?" He jokes.

Hal huffs. "You say that like I'm banned at more then three."

"Three is more than most."