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Luke stared up at the hotel ceiling, that was once a stark white but now it was stained yellow from cigarette smoke.
He unfolded the crumbled piece of paper that he held in his large hand, re-reading the note over and over again.
'Luke,
I'm so sorry. I can't begin to tell you how unstable I am, I was fine. I was getting better, then Ash died. That tipped me over the edge. I couldn't tell you how I felt because you'd send me to the mad house. I'm not insane. I swear. I just can't live with myself anymore. Scars up and down my arms, my legs, my hips. Mutilation's out of sight now, all I can think about is my demise. It wasn't supposed to be like this, we were supposed to be happy. You, Cal, Ash and I were supposed to be happy, together.
That one day when I finally decided to turn on the TV and watch the news was the day they said they had reported Ash dead. It was my fault 'cause I could've sworn that he said, it was easy to find another for his death. You don't know how it feels, when all that you have has been lost in a day.
I'm so sorry. I love you.
~ Michael.'
The last few words of the suicide note were smudged, from Michael's tears of when he was writing the note and Luke's tears of when he found his lover in the hotel bathroom, a half empty bottle of whiskey in his left hand and an empty pill bottle in his right.
Michael was wrong when he said that Luke doesn't know how it feels when all that you have has been lost in a day. Luke did know the feeling, at least he thinks he does. He thinks it's the feeling of his heart breaking when he heard about Ashton, he thinks it's the feeling of his heart breaking when he saw Michael.
Luke looked over to the bathroom, the door was pushed open slightly and he could see Michael's skinny jean clad legs. Fresh tears threatened to spill out of his eyes as he stood up and began to walk towards the bathroom. He pushed the door open a little more and slipped into the room.
Luke sat down beside Michael and lifted the bottle of whiskey out of his hand along with the pill bottle and placed it to the side. He led Michael down so his head was in Luke's lap. The distraught boy ran his hands through his boyfriend's lilac hair before pleading, "Come back."
The blonde haired boy's voice cracked as he continued to beg for a miracle, "Please, Mikey, come back."
Salty tears trailed down his cheeks as he held onto Michael's stiff, cold hand, "Please, don't leave me alone, I need you."
"I'm so sorry, Michael." Luke was getting to the point where he wasn't able to breathe properly, his chest moving rapidly and tears trickling down his cheeks. He picked up the whiskey bottle that he had set aside. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a large gulp of the golden liquid.
"I love you Michael, I don't think I ever told you enough that you're perfect, even with your scars. They're battle scars, you got better but you relapsed. You could've gotten better again, I didn't even know how bad you were. I thought you were okay. You said you were okay. God, Mike, why couldn't you tell me how you were feeling, I would've helped you. I can't be without you, I can't. You don't know what this feels like, you lost Ash, one of your best friends but you didn't lose the love of your life." Luke wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his navy blue jumper and took another sip of alcohol.
"I'm so sorry I didn't help you more." He leaned down and pressed his lips against Michael's forehead.
Luke picked Michael up bridal style and carried him out of the bathroom into the bedroom and led him down on the hotel bed. Luke turned to walk over to his bag, in search of a bottle of pills, any kind, he didn't care, but then his phone rang. He walked to the nightstand and looked at the caller ID, it was Calum, his only remaining friend. Luke hesitated before answering and holding the phone to his ear.
"Hello." Luke's voice was barely heard by Calum.
"Luke. What's wrong?" Calum asked, instantly knowing by the tone of Luke's voice that something was up. Luke was always so happy and excited, but now he was depressed and suicidal.
"Michael." Luke's deep voice cracked.
"Luke, what's going on? What's happening with Michael?" Calum began panicking, his heart beating faster and his breathing speeding up.
"He's dead. He killed himself."
Calum gasped, "No."
Luke nodded, as if Calum could see him and sobbed, "It was my fault, I thought he was okay, he was fine up until Ash died and that tipped him over the edge."
The dried tears on his face were replaced with new, wet ones as he looked over at Michael's motionless corpse. What had happened was finally hitting him, he'd lost the one he loved the most.
"Luke, it wasn't your fault, Michael loved yo-." Calum started speaking but Luke cut him off.
"No," He began, his voice shaking, "Don't say that it wasn't my fault because it was. This is gonna be the last time you'll see me or hear my voice. I'm so sorry Cal."
Luke hung up and put his phone on silent placing it on the nightstand. As soon as he put the phone on the flat surface a picture of Calum popped up on the screen, alerting Luke that he was calling. Luke turned away and walked towards his bag again. He unzipped the black duffle bag and dug around, finally picking up a full pack of paracetamol.
He made his way back to the bed, where he picked up the bottle of whiskey and the pack of cigarettes that sat next to his phone. He quickly glanced at his phone, already, four missed calls and 10 text messages. One text however caught his eye. He quickly lit a cigarette before picking up his phone and checking the text, it read.
'Go check Michaels phone.'
Luke sighed, this was all postponing his re-union with Michael. He pulled Michael's phone out of the latter's skinny jeans and unlocked it. As he unlocked the phone he saw an unsent message that was addressed to him.
'i'm sorry, i love you, don't do it.'
"What?" Luke whispered.
Luke's phone made a short, sharp, high-pitched noise to let him know he'd gotten a text. He opened it, it was the unsent message on Michael's phone.
"What the hell?"
He kept receiving the message, it was almost as if Michael was trying to tell him not to do it. Not to end his life.
Luke tried texting back.
'i love you too, i won't do it, i won't.'
Luke walked over to the open window and threw the pill bottle out of it, before putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the window sill and walking over to the sink in the bathroom and pouring out the remainder of the whiskey.
"I love you Michael." Luke whispered as he knelt down next to the bed, picked up his phone and finally dialled 999.