✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

53: Together

LUKE.

Confusion was an understatement. If I had a dollar for every question that swirled around my mind like a rogue tornado, then I'd be rich enough to be an Australian Oprah. I had so many questions filing up my brain that I swear I was going to explode. I shifted my eyes from Michael to Ari, who was just as puzzled as I was. Months of torture, months of grueling torment all came down to one question of who, and it was the answer to that inquiry that did not satisfy me.

"Michael, are you sure it was Jasey?" Ari didn't want to believe it. Mainly because she couldn't believe it. It made no fucking sense to me.

"I'm pretty sure I would know who shot me," he confirmed, sounding almost annoyed.

"But are you really sure?" Ari pressed, "maybe you didn't catch a clear glimpse of your shooter like you think you did."

"Ari, do you want your sister to be the one who shot me?" Michael questioned with a raised brow.

"No," she sighed, letting her chin fall to her chest. Ari was silent after that, as if taking a moment to gather her thoughts before looking back up at Michael, "it's just that, out of all people... Jasey. It makes no sense to me."

"Look, I know it sounds off, but Ari you gotta know that Jasey isn't all right in her mind," Michael tried to explain.

I could see the concentration painted on his face and I knew he was trying hard to trigger the memories.

"What are you saying? That she's crazy? Like, grade-A lunatic?" Ari continued on, trying to comprehend any clues that pinpointed Jasey as some creepy psycho bitch.

"I don't remember how I know," Michael stated, "but I just do. Something is not right about her."

"Well, why are we all just standing here? Jasey is inside," I pointed to the glass doors that led to the rambunctious soiree inside. "Let's go and confront her."

Just when Michael opened his mouth to speak, the sound of heavy running and panting filled our ears, capturing our attention. Our heads turned towards the pitter-patter of rubber soles to stone ground to find Calum, Ashton, and Reese heading in our direction. Looking at them with wonder painted on our faces, the three boys approached us with fear glazed in their eyes.

"Dudes, what's going on?" Ari questioned, lifting an eyebrow. "Why do you look scared for your lives?"

"It's Jasey!" Reese bellowed, before narrowing in his eyebrows in thought, "or at least I think it's her."

"It is her!" Ashton sternly affirmed. "She just doesn't think it's her."

"Wait, hold on. Say that again?" Ari asked the question we were all thinking in our heads- Ashton's statement had no sense to it.

"I bumped into Jasey on my way to the restroom," Ashton told us, "It was her, but not really. She looked like she were in a daze. Eyes bloodshot, a face full of psycho purpose. I think she was wearing a wig too. Her blonde hair was gone."

That's when I turned to look at Michael, remembering his previous testaments.

"Was it a black wig? Shoulder length and pin straight?" Michael asked, a cautious tone but with full curiosity.

"Yea, it was," Ashton nodded his head. "How'd you know."

"Jasey is the one who shot me," Michael broadcasted, prompting several wide-eyed expressions from the small crowd around him. "She was wearing a black wig when it happened."

"We have to find her now, before shit goes down," Calum ordered. "When I went to go look for Ashton, I saw Jasey running out a pair of glass doors to the courtyard. She looked... I don't know - hollow, empty, not her."