Chapter Text
"I wish that it could be like that,
Why can't we be like that?
'Cause I'm yours
Why can't we be like that?
Wish we could be like that..."
"I hate that song," Michael mutters beside me. We are in our apartment living room, sitting beside each other, listening to the radio and the rain outside the windows, and well, of course, drinking a few beers.
I chuckle, just to make things light. But deep down, I hate it too. Very much.
We are on our last country, the final show for the European leg. Then after this, we will be coming back to North America to finish the tour.
And I'd have to be with my pretend-girlfriend again.
"Okay...spill it out," he mutters beside me in a more serious tone. Of course, he notices my anxiety.
I look at him, almost wanting to lean forward and touch his blonde hair. I don't. "You know what awaits in Los Angeles, right?"
I see him crunch his eyebrows. And again, I feel a sudden urge to touch him, this time, his face. I want to trace my fingers on his brows, maybe those piercings, I don't know. His jaw, the perfect arch of his nose, his sensual lips.
But still I don't.
And Michael doesn't answer to that, so we just listen to the sound of the rain pitter-pattering down the sides of our windows. And at that moment, I just have to wonder how long Calum and Ashton are going to be out.
So, yeah. They know. The explaining was tough, but they accepted. They accept us, but they don't approve. And I kind of get that. They want us to be happy, but not to continue, because this relationship is our time bomb.
Why? Because that's how society goes. We're famous, and people are going to get upset hearing that I am using a girl to cover up my relationship with another bandmate. Society won't accept that. The people around us don't accept that, and if word comes out, it will ruin what we've been building these past few years.
So I can understand the nervous looks Ashton and Calum have been giving us every time they leave us two together, the lack of support from them. The only thing they can give us is a little amount of privacy. And while it counts, it still isn't enough.
"Michael..."
He turns to me, halfway through a bottle. When he notices that the talk is going to happen, he takes one final gulp and put it down.
"What are we going to do, Michael? What will happen to us?" I put my hand above his.
He clears his throat, flings his head upwards with a sigh. "Luke..."
He tries to lace his fingers with mine, and I let him, feeling his familiar, calloused skin. Our hands fit together so perfectly it must be a mistake.
Slowly, he turns his head down and looks at me. I am once again enamored with his green eyes, and I know that he's also lost in my blue ones. He always told me that.
"This relationship isn't going anywhere. We have to do something. This is hopeless, Michael..."
We can either continue this, in hiding, me dating Arzaylea to cover it up, or we can just make it end.
"But I don't want to do anything. I don't want to change anything. I want to be yours," says Michael, looking at me like I'm going to leave.
Am I?
"But don't you want to change a thing? 'Cause I do. I don't like this at all. If we're in-love, why can't we show them? Why can't I hold your hand in public? Why are we hiding?"
I feel his hands pulling me in, and I rest my head against his shoulder.
"We are in a dead end, aren't we?" he whispers, all too gently and painfully.
Yes. We have to decide whether to continue this or not. All I can think is how it would feel to lose this precious feeling, this beautiful man beside me, and how I can manage that. I know I can't. But we're hurting people. We're using Arzaylea and risking the downfall of the band, and if that happens, not only will we lose our career—Calum's and Ashton's, as well.
So this is a matter of being selfish or not, of holding on or letting go.
"If we end this, right here, right now, we'll be able to clean up all the mess this relationship has made. I can break up with her. Throught text even, I don't care. We can tour again in piece, without worrying every second that someone might see us. Calum and Ashton won't have to worry anymore. We're going to pretend like nothing happened," I trail off, feeling the grip of his hand tighten.
Michael whispers again. "But we don't want that..."
Yes, I don't.
I disconnect from his loving shoulders, looking at his face eye-to-eye. "But doesn't this kill you? Don't you want more? How long are we going to live like this, just because we're in love?"
Then there is silence, just the rain, and the distant sound of the radio.
We slowly let go of each other's hands, and it feels like everything around us is in slow motion. I can feel the absence of his touch, the longing to hold him again. But we don't. And I can't explain it, but it feels like the air has gotten so heavy, so tense, that I have to look away from him.
That's when we hear the doorbell. Of course I am the one who stands to get it, because I know Michael too well and that he won't.
I peep through the hole, and my whole body just goes icy-cold. I am not expecting this. I thought I'm prepared to end things with her, but in reality, I don't know what to say. Actually, I'm not ready for Arzaylea to show up just yet. But here she is, getting impatient outside our apartment door, carrying a mountain of handbags and suitcases.
When I finally recover, I force my hands to slowly unlock the door. Michael apparently notices my delay, and he is now walking towards me. Towards us.
I open the door.
"Hey, babe," she says with a smile, struggling with her stuffs and clearly not getting the vibes. "I thought I'd surprise you."
Yeah, you're good at surprises.
Now I am having mixed emotions. Should I just tell it to her face, right here, right now? Spare her the drama? Demand she leave? What?
I turn and gaze at Michael, who is looking at me with a tiny smile that breaks my heart. Upon seeing his face, I suddenly remember things I shouldn't, the memories we shared, the plans we made, basically every precious moment between us just flashes before my eyes.
Love has always been selfish, and I am in too deep to let him go.
So I turn back to Arzaylea and lean forward to hug her.
"I missed you, babe."