November Dreams (M.C.)

Chapter Ten (Michael's POV)

Why the fuck would Luke bring me to a party.

What the fuck made him think that I wanted to be here.

If I had known where he was, I would have punched him in the dick.

But because I hadn't seen him all night, I just decided to do the next best thing: get fucking wasted.

I grabbed a bottle of vodka off of the bar, not giving two shits about who saw or who cared. For all they knew, this vodka was fucking mine.

I unscrewed the cap and threw it behind me; I wasn't going to need that any time soon. I took a giant swig as I walked about the enormous house. There were bodies everywhere; some danced, some were laughing, and some were passed out on the couches and chairs. I noticed that there were a lot of pretty girls at the party, but it's not like I cared all that much. I wasn't ever going to get with any of them. They weren't her. Not even close.

I brought the bottle up to my lips once more; I felt the liquid as it trailed down my throat, leaving a faint burning sensation behind. It was worth it though; alcohol made me numb. Lately, I liked feeling numb.

I eventually shuffled outside, finding myself in the spacious backyard that overlooked the entire city. I plopped myself down in a chair facing the skyline, the bottle never leaving my lips.

She would have loved this place. She would have been running around trying to befriend everyone and dancing her cares away. Her dancing usually consisted of two things: swaying side to side with a bottle in her hand, or flailing and jumping about. When she did the latter, I had to be near her or she would fall all over whoever was around her, especially when she was hammered. She could never really hold herself up properly.

Thinking of her only made my depression deepen. I chugged the rest of the bottle, feeling dizzy as the bottle disconnected from my lips. But I didn't care. I deserved to feel this way after what I had put her through. What killed me was that she hadn't tried contacting me at all this whole time. I had the hardest time not talking to her, but I only stayed away because I hurt her and thought it would be weird if I contacted her. Plus I doubted that she wanted to hear from me. Czara told me that she was furious and that I should just leave her alone for a while. So that's what I was stuck her doing: leaving her alone.

I wished I could see her again though; I wanted to tell her how sorry I was for everything and that I was nothing without her, but I doubted that I would ever get the chance.

I watched as another body came sauntering closer from the edge of the grass; she must have been admiring the skyline too. I didn't bother to pay attention; she was just some girl that I would never care about.

After a while, I brought my tired body back inside the house. I meandered through the rooms, tuning out the music and people. I felt like a zombie and I didn't care.

I snapped out of my trance when I was met by a pair of blue eyes that recognized so well. Rage started to build up inside of me just seeing him in front of me. Fuck him.

"What the fuck Luke?!" I yelled, pushing him backward with a good amount of force.

He seemed taken aback at me reaction to seeing him. His eyes widened as he held his arms out in confusion.

"What the hell, Mikey? What's wrong with you?" He questioned, his eyes filled with shock and a sudden anger.

"Why the fuck would you bring me here when you knew it would remind me of her? Was this supposed to make me happy? Are you fucking serious?" I pushed him again, this time making him stumble backwards, catching himself on the wall behind him. He pushed himself back up, brushing his pants off a bit as he stood up to face me again.

The anger in me was building; I didn't want to hurt him, but he knew. He knew and he still brought me here.

His face suddenly twisted into a weird expression; he looked nervous. Yeah, be fucking nervous, Hemmings.

He cleared his throat suddenly.

"Yeah, about that. We should probably get going, Mikey..." He trailed off as he steered me from the room.

He pushed me through the living room and towards the front door, but before he could get me outside, something caught my eye.

"Czara?"

She spun around a few feet in front of us; when she saw me though, she walked even faster. It took me a second to figure out who it was that she was dragging along with her. I would notice that drunken walk anywhere.

"November?"

I pushed Luke off of me.

"November?!"

I began running after them, desperate to catch up.

"NOVEMBER!"

Tears welled up in my yes as the wind whipped my face. I just about lost it when she turned to look behind her. Something was off though; her face showed no expression.

I slowed, eventually stopping as I watched Czara maneuver her into her car.

Tears hit the dirt by my feet as Luke caught up with me.

I clenched my fists, rage engulfing me once more. I stood up, meeting his gaze through my clouded eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me she was here, Luke? I mean-" I pushed him and then fell back, collapsing in the dirt. Sobs began escaping my lips, but I wasn't embarrassed. She was right there; she was so close and I lost her again.

It hurt even more the second time around.

Luke stooped to my level, his hand on my back.

"Why didn't she stop, Luke? She looked at me and didn't even care that it was me!" I choked.

Luke stared back at me, his eyes apologetic.

"Mikey..."

"I don't know, Luke. I just want her back. I want to tell her that I'm sorry and that I love her and that she's the only part of me that I like anymore. And she's not even a part of me anymore. Why didn't she stop Luke? Why-"

"Michael," he cut me off.

I looked up at him, slightly blinded.

He exhaled heavily, rubbing his face.

"What Luke. Tell me."

He paused for a moment, averting my gaze. When he finally looked me in the face, I caught myself in his eyes. I was a mess.

"Luke..."

"Michael...She doesn't remember who you are..."

I felt as if I had been shot in the chest. All the air left my lungs; this couldn't be happening to me. What little world I had just came crumbling down and was now sitting in the dirt with me. This was where I belonged. In the dirt.

I was dirt.

"She...she..." was all I could get out.

"She doesn't remember anything, Mikey..."

She couldn't remember anything, but I could remember everything.

I deserved to be in this hell.

This was my fault.

All of it was my fault.