Deception (Michael Clifford)

Eighteen

Midday.

Baggy pants.

Hungry.

My thoughts process slowly in my mind.

... Food?

I nod unconsciously... food.
Painfully, I move my legs out from underneath me and flop them onto the floor, only to flinch them back up again at the cold.
I frown in discomfort.

Socks.

Taking a deep breath, I brace myself and push off the bed, swaying slightly from the sudden movements. I blink with the lack of sleep.
We got back around midnight last night... Which isn't that late I guess, but it was not easy to close my eyes.
Those images played through my mind like a movie reel all night, the cars head lights, the shadows, and not to mention the earful I got from mum when I finally got back. I walked through the hotel room door to find her sat on the bed, a deadly glare on her face. Turns out she wasn't going to be at that meeting all night... Oops.

She's been acting a little weird lately.
And by a little weird, I mean, very weird. She's been really unpredictable, leaving without notice, arriving back at random times, not calling when she does.
I sigh to my self exhaustedly and walk over to my suitcase, pulling out a fluffy white pair of bed socks.
She hasn't been keeping me updated with the schedule recently either, normally she tells me in advance the next few cities we'll be visiting, but right now, I have no idea.
It's almost like she's... distracted.

I look at the rest of my clothes spilling out onto the floor whilst I struggle to put on my socks, spotting my bra on top.
I stare at it for a few moments, letting my eyes focus.

... Nah.

I get up again and head to the kitchenette, consisting of a tiny fridge and a microwave.
Mums out.
Again.
I sigh exhaustedly.
Some briefing conference on the show tomorrow night or something, I don't know, she never tells me anymore. All I know is that I've got the hotel room to myself again today, and that's wear ill be staying.
Mainly because I'm grounded... But also because there's no way I'm going outside, not today, or the next day, or the day after that... Actually, I'm never going outside again.

Ever.

I've decided that the hotel room is much safer than the outside world, and I'm never going to leave it. I've got everything I need in here with me.
Music, food, and bed.

Switching my mind back, I tip out a bowl of coco pops and grab a spoon.
It's got to be no more than about 5 degrees out side, hence why I slept in my huge woollen jumper last night. I pull the sleeves over my hands. I don't think I could live in England, the cold would get to me.
Although its a good place to distance yourself from your thoughts, I've noticed that, Londons seemed to have numbed my senses. But I'm glad we're not staying for more than a few days.
This place could probably draw me away from reality completely if I let it.
I don't want that again.

I walk back to my bed and sit down, digging into my 'breakfast'.
I'm surprised as my mind suddenly drifts back to Michael. Vague curiosity clouds my thoughts, I don't really know what to make of the encounter last night, how he so promptly appeared out of the shadows. He was right there, at the exact moment that car switched its lights on.
How?
I guess he was just walking back to the hotel after a night out at the pub or something, I mean, that would explain the time. As to him appearing by my side at the perfect moment, ill just have to leave it as coincidence. Anyone could have been walking that way and helped me out, it just happened to be Michael.
I crunch down on a mouthful of coco pops, still deep in thought.
It just doesn't sit right with me. The whole issue with the fans? That was not coincidence. No, that was definitely because of Michael. I'm still shocked that that was who we were chased by. Chased! They pursued us through the streets in a car! But they were too pussy to enter the park.
I mumble to myself quietly.
Just as well, I think, or we would have been in for a lot more than a short sprint.