New Era – Episode 6: The Picture Frame

Late morning sunlight filtered through the hallway window as Victor approached Mikey’s bedroom door, keys jangling in his hand.

Victor: (knocking softly) Hey, Mikey. I’m about to head to the store—need anything?

No answer.

Victor hesitated. The house was unusually quiet. He gently pushed the door open, expecting to find Mikey scrolling through his phone or passed out under a pile of snack wrappers. Instead, Mikey sat at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at an old photo in his hands. Victor stepped inside slowly.

Victor: You good, man?

Mikey glanced up briefly, then back at the photo frame.

Mikey: Yeah… I’m alright. Just found this while cleaning out my drawer. Thought I threw it away years ago.

Victor walked closer. In the picture was a younger Mikey—maybe 15—standing between his parents. He was smiling, but his parents weren’t. Their expressions were cold, almost vacant. The photo felt heavy.

Victor: That’s the last one, huh?

Mikey: Yeah. The last family photo we ever took.

Victor: You know now that I think about it, I’m starting to remember something. Something from our glory days. The beginning seeds of our friendship.

Mikey looked at him, surprised.

Mikey: From youth group?

Victor: From the first day you walked in. You were loud—like, bold loud. You came in like you already knew everyone, even though you didn’t. And then—you dragged me of all people straight to the front row for worship like we were best friends.

Mikey chuckled quietly, the first hint of light in his face.

Mikey: I barely knew your name.

Victor interrupting: You didn’t! You called me “Notebook Guy.” For crying out loud. Didn’t ask me for my name until after service.

Mikey: (laughs) you’re right good times good times. To be fair You always had that sketchpad. Looked like you were writing secret plans to take over the world.

Victor: I might’ve been. Who’s to say I could’ve been on the brink of taking over the world, but you came in and messed that up.

They both laughed, then let the silence settle gently. Victor sat down beside him on the bed.

Victor: You know… I saw how they talked to you. Your parents. Not just at drop-offs either but also when you would invite me over. The little jabs. The way they brushed you off. And I remember the day you came to me after service—right after they tore into you for missing some family event to come to youth group.

You were done. You said, “I’m tired of feeling like a mistake.” That’s when you told me about applying for college without telling them. You were shaking. Scared. But you did it anyway. That was back when we just turned 18 I believe.

Mikey nodded, staring at the photo again.

Victor: Then a week later, you came back with the biggest grin I’d ever seen—you got accepted. And not even a month after that, we were hunting down this beat-up little rental house.

Mikey: (smirking) Yeah and this place barely has hot water, man.

Victor: True. But it’s home. And it had freedom. And it was yours and mine.

Mikey’s voice softened.

Mikey: I guess I always felt like if I made something of myself… maybe they’d finally see me. Maybe they’d finally say they were proud. But that moment never came. Even to this day still nothing.

Victor: I know. And I’m sorry, Mikey. You didn’t deserve that. But you know what you did deserve? A new start. A chance to build something better—and that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.

Mikey sat in silence, his eyes now distant but softer.

Victor: You didn’t just leave. You grew. You became someone I admire. Someone I’m proud to call my brother.

Mikey: (quietly) Sometimes I still feel like I’m just that kid… trying to outrun the echo of their voices.

Victor: That echo doesn’t get to define you anymore. You broke free. And now? Now you’ve got something to give.

Mikey: What do you mean?

Victor: That kid from the other day—the student who opened up to us. He saw something in you. Something steady. Safe. And I think that was your first step. Not away from your past—but toward your purpose.

Mikey: You think I could actually be a mentor? Like… for real?

Victor: I think you already are. Maybe not with a title, or a podium—but with presence. With honesty. You dragged me to the front row of worship before we even became friends, Mikey. You’ve always led people, whether you knew it or not.

Mikey looked down at the photo one last time, then slowly set it on the nightstand. His shoulders eased. The picture didn’t look as heavy anymore.

Mikey: Maybe it’s time to go check on that student. See how he’s holding up.

Victor: I think that’s a great idea. And hey… if you ever feel like the echo’s getting too loud again—you come find me. We’ll drown it out together.

Mikey: Thanks, Vik. For everything.

Victor: Always.

They stood together, the room quiet but no longer heavy. Outside, the sun had fully risen, shining on a path they’d both walked for years—one that, somehow, still felt brand new.