Fading (A Calum Hood Fan Fiction; Sequel to Pretending)

Chapter 20: Him

6 months after

I never liked long flights. The flight from LA to Australia felt like it was some kind of a journey to the center of the universe that seemed like an endless one. It has been two days since we all got back here, and it feels really good to finally able to say that I am really home. I've missed a lot of things around here, especially the place and of course my family. I've missed my mum, my dad, Mali, my room, everything. Everyone. We would be having a king of a huge break for a while, but that doesn't seem like a break at all. We were told while on tour that some band business is still going to happen here in Sydney, and I swear if I could just make things stop for a while, I would. Two days aren't enough for me to just sleep and rest and hang out with the people I've missed. I haven't caught up with so many things yet, and I don't even know how I would start. It's not that easy to find a way to come back to something that I have left behind for such a long time ago.

For the past two days, all I basically did was sleep. And eat, of course. The whole American tour drained me way too much, and I feel like I have left some pieces of my soul in each state. Don't get me wrong though. I love America. I love how warm they welcomed us, but I just couldn't get used of the fact that I will always be this tired and I still couldn't find a way how would I be able to make myself feel better about all it.

I lie awake in my bed, but my body doesn't feel the same. I've been receiving text messages and phone calls a lot lately from people who claims to be my "friends" and they are all asking me out to a party. I wanna catch up and hang out, but I really don't feel any good that I feel like if I took a one shot of vodka I would die. I feel over fatigued, that I couldn't seem to even move a bit from my bed.

My eyelids were about to close again but it got interrupted when my phone started ringing. I quickly glanced on my bedside table, then grabbed my phone.

"Yeah?" I answered, laziness evident on my tone.

"Dude, meeting today." Michael stated, making me mentally slap my head for forgetting that the meeting is today.

"I can't go." I quickly replied.

"What? Why?"

"I'm dying." I joked, of course. Or maybe not, because that's what I feel.

"You won't like it if Glenn started shitting on you again."

I rolled my eyes as I gently shifted on my bed, my other free hand rubbing my temples. "I'm sick."

Michael laugh through the line, making it seem like I'm lying. "You're not going to do anything. We're probably just going to sign shit and sit there for hours."

"I hate this band." I groaned.

"I'm outside your house. Get your ass up and let's just get this thing done."

I hang up the phone call and tried way too hard to drag myself inside the bathroom. I feel sick but I came up with the thing that I might feel a bit better if I get freshened up and so I did. After taking a shower for approximately five minutes, I simply put on some black sweater and jeans, just the usual thing. I let my hair out being all messy, my blonde streaks almost fading. Before hopping out of my room, I popped some pills to help me get rid of my headache and grabbed something I could munch on while we make our way to the studio.

I put on a beanie while I make my way to Michael's car. We've been together for almost all our lives and basically almost every single yet I didn't know that he actually had the nerve to learn how to drive. I had in my mind that for the past two days, all he did was hide and get just whiter than he ever was. I guess I was wrong.

"Whose car is this?" I asked, putting on a seatbelt.

"Dad's. My money though. So it's mine." He stated arrogantly, making me roll my eyes and just focus it on the window.

"You're such a good kid, Michael."

He laughed. "I know."

"And why is your hair blue?" I asked.

"Because I fucking can."

I never said anything anymore. Michael's an asshole but I most likely prefer him being like this than being that silent bitch he was when were on tour.

*

I rested my arms and my head on the table, trying to keep myself awake. It has been thirty minutes since we got here, the four of us, and Michael and I thought that were already late. But that is something new. I guess we're not.

"What's taking Glenn so long?" Ashton asked, impatience starting to be obvious on his tone.

"They'll be here in a bit." Dave stated, and I don't get it why is he here. I thought we only need security when we're on tour?

I rested my head back again, my arms and wrist being my comfortable pillow. The moment I was just about to fall into a deep slumber, we all heard a knock from the door that made everyone's head in front me turn to look at me. Me, being the sick bastard among the band, couldn't even seem to move as fast as they could. I slowly raised my head to turn to look at what made them look all shocked and surprised, to only make myself feel the same way their feeling. And probably, I suppose, I felt a hundred times shocked than they did.

My eyes widened at what welcomed us. I had mentally hold my jaw to stop it from dropping down the ground. The sound of clicking of the high-heeled stilettos on the floor is the only sound that can only be heard inside the room. I focused my eyes, squinting a little bit.

Her hair turned a bit red and orange, and shorter this time. Her gray eyes made her look even fiercer for her make up, her red lips making everyone's attention shift into her. Her slim body fitted perfectly with her cream-colored dress, her black high-heeled stilettos making her seem a bit tall. I looked at her arms, and saw some tattoos I haven't seen before.

I quickly blinked for times that my one hand probably couldn't to make sure that what I actually have in front of me is her. I couldn't seem to believe this; it seems so real yet to surreal at the same time. Never in my thoughts had I imagined I would see her like this, looking different and unnoticeable. I started thinking that I might just be hallucinating because I'm sick. I took a deep breath, focusing my eyes on where she's heading. After a few seconds, she stopped on her tracks, her familiar gray eyes meeting mine.

And holy shit...

There she is.