Dead Love | Michael Clifford

eleven.

As I'm trying to fall asleep, I hear my door squeak as it opens. A ray of soft light streams in and a silhouette steps inside the room, closing the door.
"Lijy?" Kyra says quietly.
"Yeah?" I respond.
"I'm scared," she admits, sitting at the end of the bed.
"Why?"
"I think Ashton... Likes me..."
"What makes you think that?" I ask.
"He keeps subtly flirting with me and he volunteered to sleep in the same bed as me," she sighs, standing up to pace in the open space of the room.
"Well, do you like him back?"
"I think so... And that's what scares me."
"You should just take things slow and go along with whatever he's trying to do," I tell her with a shrug. "Tell him you like him."
"But that's so scary," Kyra argues.
"You don't have to. Have you told him about your nightmares yet?"
"Oh... No..."
"Let's go tell him right now," I suggest, standing up from bed.
"Thank you," she smiles.
We walk into the room they're staying in and Ashton looks up from his sitting position in bed.
"Umm... Hey guys," he greets, confused.
"Hi. We have something important to tell you," I smile at him and push Kyra gently forward.
"So... Um, I kinda get nightmares almost every night and wake up needing to cuddle someone," she explains shyly.
"Well I'll be here to cuddle if you need it," Ashton smiles, holding out his arms.
Kyra smiles with a blush on her cheeks, then walks over to him and hugs him. I smile at seeing the two sweetest people in our group getting along.
"Goodnight guys," I mumble before leaving their room.
On my way back to my own room, I nearly walk into someone in the dim lighting.
"Sorry..." I apologise, looking up at their face. "Oh."
I walk around Michael who looks like he's just seen a ghost. Flopping onto my bed, I let out a sigh and crawl under my blanket again.
Suddenly there's a soft knock at my door. As it opens, I groan loudly and longly while Michael steps into the room.
I continue to groan and cover my face with my hands just to drag them down. I finally stop groaning when he reaches the side of my bed.
"Hey," he says quietly.
"What do you want," I technically state.
"I want you to tell me what you want," he sighs. "Why do you keep ignoring me?"
"Honestly, you haven't figured it out by now?"
"Figured... What out? No? What was there to figure out?"
"I don't like you," I tell him, frowning at him. But mostly at myself.
"Y-you... But you told me about Jareth... You cuddled with me, forgave me for looking in your journal... Is it that? Did I do something else that you're mad about?" Michael asks, standing there next to my bed. He looks like a lost kitten and his eyes can't decide whether to look at me, the floor, or the darkness around the room.
I've had too much heartbreak for today.
"Can you just... Leave?" I answer finally.
"After you tell me what's bothering you," he argues.
"Nothing. I told you, I just don't like you," I repeat, my voice sounding less sure than I want it to.
"Do you mean 'like' as in, romantically?"
"No!" I say defensively, too quickly. We're both quiet for a moment.
"Lijy... Are you ignoring me because you have a crush on me?"
"UGH, NO! You're so frustrating. You assume I'm in love with you because I haven't talked to you in two days! Your band might have been famous but not everyone in the world loves you," I huff, pulling my covers over my head and turning away from him.
His soft breathing next to my bed becomes shaky and he sniffles. I sigh and turn back around, pulling my blanket off of me.
He looks down and wipes away the tear from his cheek.
"Michael, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to make you cry..."
"B-but it's true," he squeaks. "I'm always too arrogant. I shouldn't have assumed anything."
"I can't watch you cry," I mumble, looking away.
"I'll leave..." He says softly, starting to walk towards the door. "I just wanted to know why."
"Wait. Michael."
He turns back around.
"I don't hate you..."
"Then why?" His tone sounds more harsh. "Why did you lead me on for days and then decide to just ignore me?"
"It's a stupid reason now that I think about it..." I look down at my hands. "But I didn't want any feelings to grow between us. I'm honestly terrified of love, and- I don't even know, really."
"What made you think that would happen?" He asks, cocking his head to the side with his eyebrows furrowed.
"I... I can't tell you. You'll just get mad at- yeah..."
"Goodnight," he sighs, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
"Night," I whisper.
I roll onto my side again and pull the blanket up to my chin.

I wake up confused, wondering when I even fell asleep.
Stretching, I sit up and turn on the lamp on my nightstand. My journal is on top of my dresser. I didn't put it there.
It was in the drawer before I went to sleep... Michael. I'm gonna kill him.
I throw the blanket off of me and rush to the main room to find the others huddled around the table.
"Michael, I swear to god, I'm going to murder y-"
"He's gone," Luke turns around to tell me this.
"He's what?"
"Go-"
"No, I heard you the first time," I walk closer to the group. "What are you guys looking at?"
"He left this note," Ashton says, holding up a paper. It's the size of my journal.
"Lemme see," I reach out my hand and he gives it to me.

To my friends and family,

I'm sorry I screwed things up, I pretty much ruined everyone's lives. I sucked at playing guitar and singing and being attractive. I never fit in with the band. I'm sorry to you girls for barging into your lives and messing things up. Amanda, I should have listened to you because I led the zombies straight back to the hideout. I'm sorry to all of you for that, and I feel really guilty about it. Lijy, I'm sorry for making you hate me and wasting those few days when you actually acted decent around me. I'm leaving and I don't plan on coming back. I've decided I'll go where I best belong, the place that felt like home to me for the week that we stayed there. Don't bother trying to find me, I've probably already made it back and been killed by Zombies.

Sincerely,
Michael

P.S. Sorry Lijy, I said I'd never look at your journal again but it's okay now because you won't see me so you can't be mad at me up close.

I fold the note along the four lines where it's already been folded. Then I slowly stand from my crouched position over the table and run into my room, my vision blurring. I slam the door and fall onto my bed, sobbing.
It's all my fault, I shouldn't have been so mean last night. He's never going to survive out there on his own. Ugh, I'm so stupid.
I'm able to somehow make it to my nightstand and open my journal. Right behind the last page of words, there's a paper torn out.
I flip through the empty pages, tears streaming down my face, like I normally do. Then something catches my eye.
At the bottom of a page near the back, there's a note written in Michael's messy handwriting. I wipe away my tears and blink rapidly to try to see clearly again.

Hey...
I have strong feelings for
you. I hope you can feel this
way about me too someday. I
know you probably still hate
me right now but I hope that can
change.
Stay strong.

A random mix of emotions explodes inside my head. I feel angry at him for leaving, sad that he's gone, mad at myself for being stupid enough to hurt him.
I'm upset that I feel all of these emotions and also somehow I feel the strong feelings he said he felt.
After a while of thinking, I go to the closet in my room and grab my backpack. I stuff my journal and a change of clothes, the only one I've got, into it. I pull on Jareth's snapback then walk back out into the main room.
"Guys, I'm going after him," I declare.