November Dreams (M.C.)

       

2 weeks later

Michael

I don't know why I tried. Going in, I knew what was going to happen. All that came out of that was me looking like a fool with an even bigger rift in my heart. I walked back to the hotel, despite Luke offering me a ride back with him. I could tell that he felt somewhat sorry for me.

Luke watched it all happen, back at the airport. He watched me dive after her in a last-ditch attempt, he watched the guards drag me back, he watched her walk away, and he watched me fall apart. He told me to let her go, that it was over and I needed to accept that. But that was something I could never accept, despite me knowing how true it was.

The tour ended, but nothing felt the same anymore. The guys didn't look at me the same; I felt like even more of a reject, which I never thought would be possible. Fans asked about November wherever I went, not all of them being kind. They only saw this as an opportunity, not a moment for true sympathy. But I won't say that I expected anything more, not after before.

We all went back to L.A., back to our house we a shared together before this all started what seemed like an eternity ago. I went back to the same four walls, the same closed off feeling as before when she left. When I thought she had really left. I hadn't heard from anyone in almost a week; Calum and Ashton were always out and Luke was always with November. At least someone had gotten something out of my heartache. And I hoped to God that he made her happy.

//

One Month Later

Getting used to this loneliness, this exile I felt, was an oxymoron. Luke had started bringing her over. They watched movies and played games with Cal and Ashton and they all seemed close, happy. And I felt like an outsider. I kept to myself; most of the time I stayed in my room. If I ever did emerge, no one really acknowledged me anyways. To be honest, the loneliness was suffocating me.

I awoke one day in the early hours of the morning, sweat drowning me in my bed. The room spun in a violent tornado as I sat up, trying desperately to get a grip on what little self I had left. I was spiraling deeper and deeper each night. Every night when I closed my eyes, I silently prayed that I wouldn't wake up. The worst part was that some morning, I would still expect to wake up to her angelic face buried deep in the pillows next to me.

My hand ran across the bed to her side, only to find a vacant dip in the mattress covered by ice cold sheets. I missed her warmth under the covers, I missed her nose whistle and the way she smiled when she dreamt about me. I missed her toes tickling me at the end of the mattress, or they way she would latch on to me when she was faced with her worst nightmares behind closed eyes. I wished for every day, every hour, every second, every millisecond of it back. I wanted it all again, but the emptiness was inescapable.

My phone buzzed on the edge of the nightstand as the spinning began to settle. It was alarming, seeing as I hadn't spoken to anyone and no one had spoken to me since tour ended.

"Hello?" I answered, my throat dry and my voice shaky.

"Mikey, hey," Czara sniffed through the phone.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I could tell something was wrong; she sounded like she had been crying and honestly, I wasn't surprised. I was right where she was.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

"Czara?"

Small hushed sobs leaked through the phone and my heart suddenly broke for her.

"I just feel so alone, Michael," she cried.

"I know how you feel. There are so many people in this house all the time, but it still feels so vacant. No one talks to me. It's like I don't exist," I whispered. Saying the words aloud made the ache even more real. The place I had once called home didn't feel warm anymore. The guys I once called brothers no longer looked in my direction. Nothing was the same, all because of me. And I wasn't sure how long I could live like this.

"I'm coming to get you," I blurted without thinking.

And without wasting another moment, I was out the door.

//

Czara shuffled out of her apartment in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Her glasses looked askew and her hair fell messy and unbrushed around her shoulders. She climbed in and buckled up, giving me a grateful smile as she slumped in her seat. Her head rolled onto the window, her breath fogging up the glass as she breathed in the scenery flashing by.

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes closing reflecting in clear, hazy glass.

//

sorry this chapter was short and shitty. i just needed to update since i havent in a while cuz ive been lazy as fffuuuucckkkk.

oops