We Were Kids [MIKA Fanfiction]

Forty-Four: Write

The sound of the small desk lamp switched on and I could see the glow of it with my eyes closed. Mika was probably getting something. I could've opened my eyes to check on him but I turned over with my back to the light, burying myself in blankets and welcoming sleep. Sleep somewhat welcomed me, too.

I was stuck somewhere in between, only to be half-asleep. I could hear a pencil scratching away at something, the occasional tearing and crumpling of paper, and then it hitting the waste bin. The pencil noises would then start again with groans of frustration and a voice whispering something like "...underwater,"

Finally sleep took me back, but only for a short time.

I woke up yet again to the sound of Mika doing something out of the ordinary. He was talking...on the phone! I sat up. Was it important news about Paloma? Was he confessing to his family that we'd gone off and he was arranging to come back home? Home! Just the thought of it made me smile. I'd be able to see Mel again and I'd be able to see Mika's family again. Now that I think of it, it's actually quite funny how all my friends, family, and people I cared for were from Mika. As if he hasn't changed my life enough!

Thankfully Mika sounded cheerful, which was something that wasn't so common nowadays, with the exception of the yesterday. My hair was still damp from his little stunt. I smiled at the memories. Stretching, I pushed back the fluffy covers and sat up, just in time to see Mika turn off his phone and slip it back in his pocket. I looked at him with a warm morning smile. He knew I was curious to know who he was talking to.

"We've got to go to America." he simply stated, expecting a positive reaction from me. He got the opposite.

"Excuse me?"

"America."

"What? Why? I was hoping we'd be going home!" I pouted. Why America?
"Katherine, I wrote!" he added. Mika...wrote? He wrote! These months that we spent locked up from hotel to hotel, sulking over his sister and running away from our problems, Mika didn't even dare to pick up a pencil. It was like he had forgotten how to write a song, how to rhyme, how to pour his heart out into the lyrics. And now he was saying he did just that.

"What? Let me see?" I asked, stepping out of bed.

"It's not completely done, I have a rough idea of how this could work but it's not polished."

"Does it have a name?" I asked. My heart skipped a beat in excitement. More music. I may be overly sentimental at times but I just loved watching how simple events in his life built up to a production of a song that soon became something he sang to hundreds of people around the world each night.

"Remember what I said to you, after pushing you into the pool? 'With your love I could breathe underwater'? Well Kath I couldn't stop thinking about that last night and I'm sorry if I woke you up with my writing in the middle of the night. But I've scheduled a meeting to work this out in Los Angeles and hopefully I'll be able to work out a-"

"AN ALBUM?" I shrieked. He was doing it again. He was taking his talent and was going to make another masterpiece. He knew how much I loved his music and how even though I could have the real guy sing a song to me if I wanted, I still had my own copies of his records. And yes, they are autographed.

"Don't get your hopes up my love, I just want to see if we can make something from this. Hopefully we can. Did you want to come with me or shall I take you home. It's up to you, you do seem a little homesick lately."

I couldn't decide. Do I go home back to Mel and live alone in our flat until he came home - which I wasn't sure how long it would be - or take his hand and go to America? If he did come home with a new record and I wasn't there to watch its production, then that would mean touring and probably even more days away from him. But I could be there to visit Paloma and help Mika's mum or siblings with anything they wanted.