[chapter seven•make a move]
[Amelie's Point of View]
"Ashton, get the key, I need to get in there," I said.
"What?" Ashton asked me.
"I know what I'm dealing with here. I have to get in there before she does something she might regret later." Ashton nodded and ran over to the closest security guard within a second.
"What do you mean, 'Something she might regret'?" Luke asked.
"You know what I mean, Luke."
I heard Skye yelling from the other side of the wall. "Ashton, hurry!" I called to him. He came running back with a guard.
The guard didn't waste any time, he unlocked the door within seconds, and when he did, I wasn't sure what I was looking at.
Michael and Skye stood in the center of the room, eyes locked. Skye's face was covered in running makeup, and Michael's hair was a mess.
I ran to Skye immediately, making her sit in one of the arm chairs in the dressing room.
"Are you okay?" I asked her.
"Fine... I just need a second." She told me breathlessly.
"Okay, good - hey, can we get her some water or something?" I asked the body guard. He nodded, and made his way to the refrigerator.
"What happened?"
"Anxiety attack," she told me. I nodded. Ashton had gone back on stage and talked into the microphone, "I'm sorry about that, thank you guys for being patient, you're awesome!"
"Amelie, you coming?" Calum asked me. I watched Michael walk back to the stage slowly, Luke by his side.
"Nah," I said, kneeling next to Skye. "I think I'll stay with her."
"Go," Skye told me. "I need time to myself."
"Are you sure?" I asked her. "I can sta-"
"Go."
I nodded. "Thanks."
Calum brought me back to my seat, and instantly girls all around me began to scream. I winced at the noise, and tried to block it out. It was a wake up call for me that Skye and I weren't the only people here.
"That was cool of you," he said.
"Thanks," I half smiled. When Calum made his way back to his spot on the stage, he yelled into the mic, "the show must go on!" The crowd roared, and I bit my lip. I tried my very best to enjoy the rest of my last show, but it was hard. I didn't want to go home - a week didn't feel like enough time. I guessed it would have to suffice.
[Skye's Point of View]
I was in utter shock.
That was the only was I could properly describe it.
It felt, literally, like electricity.
I couldn't move, I was paralyzed.
"That's what I meant," he said.
What the hell did that mean?
I didn't know. It didn't make any sense to me. All I knew is that he kissed me, and I couldn't think straight. I went to the bathroom to clean up. I looked into the mirror and washed the mascara off my face.
Michael Clifford kissed me.
I laughed. That was insane.
The rest of the concert, I just stayed in the dressing room, a smile on my face. I couldn't wipe it off until I came to a realization that I was going to leave tomorrow.
