UnTouchable, Vol 1. Dreams, Boys and Creatures of The Night

Chapter Nine: Breaking Naked

This chapter is dedicated to the writers of the story For Emma, Forever Ago. Thank you for all your support, so much talent.

- Zain Woodrow, July 7

Michael continued sulking in his room, the tears leaving damp circles on his blanket. Maybe he'd had enough of being secretive. Everybody knew, and everybody laughed. He knew it. He was the butt of every body's jokes when it came to the showers. Faggot Clifford, he's got that scrawny shit boyfriend - Luke. Faggots, man. Faggots! Could they come up with anything other than that? Poof, Faggot, Bum Bandit, Doughnut Puncher. All these were creative, but old. The type of insults and slurs Michael's father would've used back in 1985. Son's learnt from their father's - Not Michael. He learnt how to hate his father, but he never learnt to fix a bike, to throw a cricket ball, how to camp out doors.
Why are you playing with paint, Mikey? DON'T TIP IT ON THE FLOOR! FUCK SAKE! Shortly after, bruises would cover Michael's backside. His mother, and father then at a war of who scream louder. Michael didn't speak to his dad on a daily basis, or even a weekly basis. It was mostly Christmas, and family reunions.
"Michael, Luke - we're home!" shouted a voice from downstairs. It had to be Calum, or Ashton. Michael got off his knees and onto his feet, starting toward the door. He saw the shadows underneath it, Luke had beat him to it. Beat him like his father only could. If only.
He reached for the knob and swung it back. The stairs were empty, he could hear Luke's voice just afar from him. His head spun to the feel of coldness the steps upon his soles.
"Michael, were you asleep?" Calum asked, he shook his head, Luke couldn't fathom a glance, just over took the conversation.
"What'd you find?"
"Well, Bridget said Meyers drugged her, placed her in a coma -"
Michael coughed and put a hand out, "That doesn't make sense. Coma's aren't a form of sleep, they're a form of unconsciousness. People don't dream when unconscious."
Ashton smiled, "But that's the thing, dream magic doesn't require a concious body. He used brain mechanics as well as magic." he scoffed, "We got an address on the coven."
"Wait, Towers is a witch?" Michael asked, intrigued.
"A very wealthy witch. Her attorneys are even magical."
"Who's to say that the organisation Meyers works for isn't a covenant of warlocks." Luke interrupted, "I found information on the organisation. It was started by some political scheme, it's called Dreams Alive." he said, pulling a note from his pocket. "Which I got an address, thank you very much, hold the applause!" he said with sarcasm. Calum looked at the address, scribbled in red pen. He knew writing in red was horribly rude. Something his mother had taught him.
"I'm going to go have a shower and then you and Michael can go to Dreams Alive, Ashton an I -"
"Actually, I'll go with Ashton." Michael said, his voice shaky and weak, he'd had enough of being grouped with the blonde kid who ignorantly hurt his feelings. Ashton was new, it would be good for his chemistry. Unlike his father who would repetitively beat his backside for not being the perfect son. It was more than abuse, it was psychological damage. Watching Calum nod his head, start for the stairs, as Ashton left for the kitchen...there was Luke and Michael. Both of them stood in silence, they said and did nothing. Just the ticking of the clock, the mindless clock inside the subconscious of their brains. Fucking, god, they wanted to say something. The awkwardness was redeeming, refreshing.
"I'm going to say something." Luke started, "I know I was harsh -"
"Luke -"
"Let me finish." he said, "This hiding thing, it's more than just my parents. It's bigger than school. It's everything. If I hide, it's better than not being with you at all, and I do want to be with you, but I just hope you will forgive me." Luke had a very vague smile on his dial, Michael did not. His was still emotionless with a bite in his lip. "Are we okay?"
Michael sighed, wiping his brow, and slamming his hands down. "Luke, I love you very much, and it's not that I don't appreciate everything you do."
"But?" Luke asked.
"But, we're on a different wave length, you want to hide, and I want to be open with every one. And I can't lie to myself or my friends for the sake of you any more." he said, a tear rolled down his chin, just a lonely tear. Luke smiled in a fluster.
"Wait, you're saying we're finished?"
Michael rolled his eyes, "Not finished, just...postponed."
"Finished."
"Oh, god - do you ever listen to a word I say?" he asked, Luke sighed hard, Michael lifted up his hand and slammed his palm into Luke's cheek. The boy fell back and cradled his blushing cheek as the pain seared from each side of his mouth. "Fine, you want me to stop being nice about it? We're done, finished. Don't talk to me for a while, just keep your distance."