Michael had no recollection of what his body did the night before. He called it 'his body' rather than himself because he didn't know what was controlling it anymore. But, he knew this was him. He knew that nothing was controlling him this morning.
He washed all of the MikeyMikey make-up off of himself, changed his clothes and crept out onto the streets. He liked how he was feeling today. He didn't feel like he was being taken over, or scared of himself, he was just Michael. He went down to the shop and got himself chocolate and bunch of bananas, feeling like treating himself for feeling so . . . pure.
Luke was there, surprised to see him without a hoodie, and a small smile on his face. "How are you today?"
No pick-up line? No sleazy comments? What the fuck happened to you, man? "I'm good, thank you."
Luke raised an eyebrow as he looked at the yellow fruit on the counter. "Bananas?"
Michael decided to have a half-arsed conversation with him in attempt to be nice, so he nodded, "They were good today, so,"
"Yeah, the bananas seem to be really good lately. The big ones, especially." The blond boy smirked, and Michael chuckled.
"Can you check me out, already?"
"I am." Luke looked straight at him, biting his lip.
Michael rolled his eyes. "Please."
"My band's having a gig tonight. You should come."
Sure, if I'm not getting taken over by things I don't even know about. He shrugged, giving a cocky grin at the guy's unhappy expression and then he asked for details. Luke delivered them with a smile on his face.
"What's your name, by the way?"
"Michael." He said, and then he left to go see what clothes he could wear for the occasion. It wasn't often he got invited places.
Looking through his choices of clothing he had, he sighed. He bought a few sets of clothes every year, and – considering the clothes he wore when he was fourteen looked better than the clothes he was wearing now – he knew he needed another set of clothing. He mostly wore his MikeyMikey clothing, which was absolutely torn grey trackies and a ripped-up hoodie that looked a thousand years out of date, but that wasn't what you wore when you wanted to make friends that would be scared the fuck out of it.
He went into a random clothes store and bought a pair of black jeans, an Iron Maiden shirt and a denim jacket. He liked his choice, and decided to wear it the rest of the day. He also bought new shoes – black boots.
He smiled as – for once – he turned the TV off static. He watched the kids' channel, because he didn't want any mention of MikeyMikey to swarm his brain. He didn't want to think about such a thing until he was the thing.
He heard something outside, so he turned the TV off quickly. He didn't know what to do if someone came in. He never remembered. MikeyMikey took over him every time, and he didn't know what happened until he had daydreams about it. But now, it was just Michael.
He ran into the kitchen.
"MikeyMikey, are you here?" He knew that voice.
It was one of those guys from the park. He wasn't sure which one but – wait, something was coming back to him. A guitar. A Cajon. Music. These were Luke's friends.
"Leave," Michael's scared voice called. "I don't want you to be hurt."
"Is this . . . Mikey without the other Mikey?" He looked through the shutters that completely shut off the living room.
"It'll be both if you don't leave quick."
"No."
"Why aren't you nice to me? Luke was nice to me last night." The words rolled off his tongue, and he didn't even understand what he meant, but when it didn't feel so odd saying it, he knew must have some truth to it. "That's why I don't scare him anymore."
He heard them coming closer, so he backed away, his hand on the door knob. He opened the door and got out quietly. He just prayed they didn't go upstairs. He ran away quickly, seeing it was close to the time Luke had to play. He was going to be a little late, but he didn't want to act like he cared anyway.
He got the dingy pub, the air smell of chips and cigarette smoke, although the people around were your average G-rated people. Old guys with pot-bellies, mothers with children, teenagers playing pool. The band playing was just your average pub band, playing We're Not Gonna Take It by Twisted Sister, just with a lot less enthusiasm than intended.
He sat down in a booth, wishing he'd had something to entertain him. He hadn't got a phone, because he didn't really have the need for one being a psycho. He had plenty of fake IDs and driver's licenses, but never bought a wallet. So, there was nothing to play with when he was in public, because, he was never in public.
He played with his thumbs as he heard Luke's voice blare into the microphone. "Hi, we're 5 Seconds of Summer, I hope you enjoy the show." Michael's head popped up, watching Luke. But as soon as his eyes fell to Luke, they fell to Calum. Michael had never seen someone so hot before. He didn't get out much, and he hadn't exactly been looking, but this guy was just a whole other level.
They played a few songs, one called 18, even though he knew Ashton was nineteen and Michael found that funny. They were good, and Michael actually liked their music. Another band came on, and Luke, Ashton and Calum started to put their stuff into their cases, giving them back to their parents.
"Michael!" Luke smiled, making his friends follow in pursuit as they sat in the booth that the pale boy accompanied. "Did you like us?"
"Better than the techno shit they have these days."
Ashton looked at him weirdly, because there was something about him that just seemed a little off. Michael noticed the stare, and turned to him. "What?"
"Um, nothing, you just . . ."
"Wait, wait, let me guess; I look like MikeyMikey." Michael rolled his eyes, the name feeling dirty on his tongue as he pulled a serviette out of the serviette holder and ripped it to pieces. "Swear to god, the next person that says that is gonna die." He mumbled.
"I'm Ashton."
"I'm Calum."
Michael nodded like he didn't know their names, continuing to rip the serviette. He nervously looked up at them, not wanting to ruin his only shot at having friends and getting close to the Maori. "You guys look like you have a bone to pick with him."
"Who?"
"MikeyMikey."
"Yeah, he blew a kiss at me and waved to me, and he kissed Calum, and he gave Luke a panic attack. So, we've got some shit to do with him. 'M so happy there's a reward for his capture now. Maybe this time I can catch him and not go empty handed."
Calum nodded after Luke said he was going to get drinks and Michael tried to keep his eyes off him as he explained further. "Me and Ash have been going to where he supposedly lives. He's always there. We went over there this afternoon and he said 'it's Mikey without the Mikey' or some shit. It's weird."
Luke put raspberry lemonades on the table, passing them around. "He said he knew you."
"W-What?"
Never had Michael ever hated himself more than he did now.
