It was around midnight and Michael wasn't home yet. It was his second night home from tour and he promised he was just going out for 'one drink' with the boys. You had made a beautiful dinner and it was now stale and cold. The only thing you were able to do was sink into the dining table chair and sob. Loudly.
Just then, a very drunk redhead (A/N This was my favourite hair colour on Mikey) came bustling through the door.
"Hey, babe." He slurred as he stumbled through the door.
"Michael! Where were you all this time? One drink? Was it a bloody 6 litre glass?" You yelled, anger apparent at his lateness and dishonesty.
"Will you shut uuuuup? I haave a headachhhhe." Michael complained and flopped his large body on the sofa.
"Can you not see all of this? Are your beer goggles just blacked out today?" You gestured to the long prepared set out dinner, which now had been sat for 5 hours.
"All that shop-bought crap you call hard work? The lady at the bar would've done it better." He scoffed, unaware of the filth pouring out of his mouth. You cracked under his comparison to another woman. One he didn't even know.
"Yeah? Well I hope she gives you all of that. I hope she's not a control freak like me. I hope she doesn't care if you get hammered every night. Have a nice time together Michael. We're through." You grabbed your stuff from upstairs and ran out of the door, not looking back when you heard the drunken voice of Michael either calling you back to apologise, or giving you more abuse.
A/N
Should I do a part 2 to this? Please comment!
