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“We’re over and I don’t love you anymore okay? You have to get that through your head Michael! I’m not going to run back to you when things get hard, and don’t you dare come running to me when you can’t handle the world on your own.”
Those words ran around in Michael’s head, jumping down his throat. Pulling at Michael’s heart, tears spring forth, even now after he’s publicly said he is fine it still hurts. Michael can’t imagine a day where it won’t, a day where Luke doesn’t cross his mind at all seems ridiculous. Nothing could have prepared him for this. For the flashing lights with raised voices, asking questions that they have no right to know. Then the fucking hashtag, that had sent him over the edge. #mukebreakup what a goddamn joke, was that really all he was to their fans? A shitty hashtag letting everyone know how badly he screwed up the best thing to happen to him? That he let Luke slip through his hands, that he is just a worthless as they all said. That Michael didn’t deserve him.
One day Luke will move on, maybe it will be with an overly happy fangirl who wears too tight shirts and cakes on her make-up. Or maybe with another boy, one who could love Luke with out trying to chain him down. Like Michael had done. For that was why it was over wasn’t it? Because he was too clingy. Because he would rather them stay inside for a night of movies and video games then to some fancy club and watch Luke get hit on.
Now instead of Luke being there to hold Michael during times when he felt like complete shit, all he had was a bottle. Michael had long since forgotten what was even in the bottle, not that he’d cared in the first place. The searing liquid had made him almost forget about Luke for a second so it must be good right? Even if there wasn't already so much poison swimming in his veins a little more couldn't make him hurt anymore then he already was.
Luke, Luke, Luke, Luke, Michael’s inner voice chanted, but thinking of Luke only brought back the memories of when they’d ended too close to the surface. Of the night when Michael had taken it to far. Luke’s face as he screamed at him flashed in his mind. Throwing the bottle back Michael pushed those images aside.
He couldn’t even look at the ceiling of his fucking hotel room without Luke popping up in his mind. Luke, when had Michael molded his entire life around the blond boy? When had Michael stopped living to make himself happy and instead living to make Luke happy? The answer is obvious, back in year fucking nine. That goddamn hate had become his everything then. When it became requited love it became even more controlling of everything Michael did.
Michael couldn’t help laughing at his fourteen old self, if he went back and told himself how it turned out would it make a difference? To have not had Luke at all and be spared the heart break now or to have been the first to hold Luke, the younger boy’s first everything. No matter what had happened Michael would always be proudest of the fact that it would be him that was Luke’s first love, that Luke Hemmings had once loved him.
All the past tenses just made the bottle emptier, Michael couldn’t even remember drinking all of that. Giggling he downed the rest, tears streaming down his cheeks. Not even bothering to wipe them off he stood to go look for another bottle to drown his sorrows in. After stumbling around for a while he ended up on tripping on a pile of dirty clothes, falling on his face. More tears fell though from the pain of falling down drunk or was it because of the fact the clothes were Luke’s, Michael didn’t know. So many things that littered the small room were Luke’s. He hadn’t even bothered to pack a bag, just leaving Michael with random things he’d left. Luke had left him to clean up his mess. After spending god knows how long on the floor just laying there Michael fell into restless sleep.
Luke flickered through his dreams like a ghost, Michael kept reaching for him to find that Luke really wasn’t there. That Luke would never be there again, that Luke was happy without him. Luke’s words swam through his mind “We’re over.” Nothing could ever hurt more then those words. Nothing hurts as much as realizing that the person that you would do anything for isn’t happy because of you. Michael woke to feeling considerably more sober and feeling the shards of his heart digging deeper into him.
For a second in his sleep hazed state Michael could have sworn that Luke was standing over him, that Luke was looking at him with that look again. The look that could only mean love, the look Michael hadn’t seen in long time. That he would never see again or not on the face he would always hope for it to be on. When he shook his head Luke was gone having never been there in the first place. Luke was gone and he wasn’t coming back for the boy that he broken on his way out the door.