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Micke sees Marcus pulling up at the bunk for petrol. His gut instinct is to get into the idiot's face and shout at him for what he said online. But Marcus is a kid; a reckless teenager (just like Simon was, just like Micke definitely was).
Marcus sees him through the glass doors. He freezes.
Micke stares him down. This might be his only chance to say something. He walks out of the convenience store and toward Marcus.
Marcus is struggling to remove the pump from the car's tank. Micke stops a few feet from him and sighs, "I'm not going to hit you."
Marcus pauses. His face is pale. Good.
"I am thinking about it, though," he says mildly.
Marcus coughs. "Look. Micke. I didn't think… I mean, I blurted some nonsense, and the media ran with it--"
"Save it," Micke sighs. "Just stay away from him."
"I don't want him!" Marcus snaps. "He cheated on me! Then he tried to apologize--"
He falters when Micke scowls.
"I spoke to Sara," Micke states. "And Linda. You don't come out of it clean, Marcus."
"Look, I--"
"It's so easy to interpret things in all the wrong ways," Micke continues. "You can be upset about the whole thing. But you pushed Simon as well. So don't go around playing the victim when the story can change at any time."
Marcus fidgets with the fuel pump.
"You never thought about how he got back together with the prince so fast?" Marcus mutters.
Micke narrows his eyes. "I don't go around thinking about people I don't have business with."
"But--"
"Have a good day, Marcus. Watch yourself."
Micke forces his feet to walk away. He would have liked to dress him down properly, but it's no longer his place. He leaves with his bread, lingonberry jam, cheese, and deodorant, thinking about the six-pack he did not touch on the shelf, the cigarettes he didn't even turn to, and the hundred things he would have liked to tell Marcus, the media, the world, and especially to his family. Some things are better left alone.