Second Chance || Luke Hemmings

|| 13 ||

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"Michael, I don't know if I should do this," I pace back and forth around my room, subconsciously biting on my nail.

"You know you have to do this, Al," he speaks to me calmly, probably hoping it'll calm me down. I've been pacing around my room for 10 minutes now.

"Michael, I can't. I'm so scared," I finally sit down on the spinning chair at my desk, trying hard to keep myself from hyperventilating. I feel my chest become very heavy very quickly. This is not the time!!!!

"Al, look at me. We talked about this," he scoots towards the edge of my bed where he can sit closer with me, "you know it's the right thing to do. For the both of you."

"But what if it's not?" I quickly gasp, feeling myself already ready to break down and cry.

"Hey, look at me," Michael says softly, making me look up and meet his beautiful green eyes, "it's for the best. For the both of you. I can't stand seeing you guys so miserable. And it's just temporary, remember that."

"Temporary, right," I mumble, repeating his words, hoping it'll sink in and calm me.

"You'll feel better after, ok?" He says, grabbing my hands that are covering my mouth. It was comforting to me. Where would I be without Michael, honestly. I nod in response to him.

"Now, here's what we do," Michael stands up and joins me over my the computer screen. He moves the mouse and clicks on Luke's contact to FaceTime him. My heart drops.

"Michael, no!" I move to try and stop him but it's too late. Fuck.

"I'll be downstairs, ok?" He quickly kisses the top of my head before exiting and shutting the door behind him, leaving me to a computer screen Luke.

"Hey, Al," Luke half heartedly smiles at me, but immediately turns worried when he sees me.

"Luke," I breathe out but I can't do this. It physically hurts my heart. I can feel it ache with every breathe I take, with every word i'm about to say.

"What's wrong?" He asks, completely worried and scared. I can't do this to him, I absolutely can't.

But I know I have to.

"We need to talk," my voice came out quiet and slightly cracked. I hope he heard it, because I don't want to repeat myself.

"I know we do," he sighs, his eyes looking tired. I wonder if he just woke up? Even if it is 5 in the afternoon there.

But no one says a word, we just sit there staring at eachother through the screens.

Through the screens.

This needs to happen.

"Luke, you know I love you, more than anything in the world, right?" I ask him. I hope he really knows that I mean it.

"And I love you too, Al. So fucking much," he sits forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the desktop of his table.

My attention draws towards the pink speakers in the back, sitting on a on top of a book shelf. I remember when he told me stories about those. Every video he had made at home of him singing, talking, taking pictures on the compute, those were always behind him. They're iconic and a classic, and he says that they aren't going anywhere soon. You have to love him.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in. Stay calm, be cool.

"Luke, I think we should take a break," I blurt out. I have to do it. Rip it off like a bandaid. And man does ripping the bandaid off still hurt. It hurts like a bitch.