IX ; who's crashing now.

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Hey I'm bored so if you have any questions of anything you'd like to say, I'm open :-)

« hemmings »

I paced around my room allowing the guilt to eat me alive as I practically burned holes in the ground from my constant walking. Why had I thought it would be a good idea to lead on the poor boy, there's no way we could ever be friends -- let alone boyfriends.

My mind was bashing at me with constant reminders of the bastard I am, because hell I know how much he used to care for me. We were the closest of friends and I just let that evaporate with popularity.

I knew better than to do that simply because I know him better than anybody -- at least I like to think that. But the worst part is I think I just brought back a certain past that he can't see through, and that took away all my chances of his trust.

Why do I even want his trust, it's not like we'll ever be friends -- hell I don't even want to be friends with him, I mean he's really fucking weird.

Why does he have vibrant red hair and a dark eyebrow piercing? Why does he constantly wear sweaters and dark jeans? How many guys actually wear eyeliner every so often and are considered "cool?"

Even with these questions swirling through my mind at an alarming pace I can't conquer the loudest question.

Why is he so fucking beautiful?

He doesn't deserve pain, I've seen how skinny he really is and he doesn't new to starve himself, I'm just an asshole. His past comes back to haunt him too often, sure I don't know much about it but I know enough. And I'm sure as hell acting. Just like him mother used to.

I whipped my phone out of my pocket landing on the exact contact I needed.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Voicemail.

So I tried again without any luck, of course he wouldn't answer me, I probably terrorized him. I switched contacts deciding to call Ashton instead.

"What do you want?" He seethed.

"Well hello to you too, anyway I need you to keep an eye Mikey -- I mean Michael."

"He doesn't need your shit Hemmings."

"I know but I'm scared for him, I-I did something bad and I feel like he's keeping secrets."

"Like I'd inform you of what I know." He growled before hanging up on me and leaving me with deadly silence.

It felt impossible to crawl into bed without crying -- I hated myself for what I did.

But I hated Michael more.

For breaking my heart.

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