MikeyMikey changed into his clothes in the middle of the night. He didn't know why he was at Calum's house. Something felt off. He felt like he didn't remember. He got out of the window and went back to the house he lived in.
Why the fuck was it burnt? He went inside, past the police tape and straight into the living room. Everything was grey and faded, on the verge of being destroyed by flame. His hands balled into fists. Fucking, why? He growled at the sight, and trudged back to Calum's house.
His clenched fists tightened around the collar of the Maori's shirt. "Who the fuck destroyed my house?" he said through gritted teeth, black eyes boring into the Kiwi's innocent ones.
"I don't – I don't know." Calum said, his ribcage starting to shake. "W-Where's Michael?"
"I don't fucking care where he is. I want to know who lit my house on fire." He shoved Calum up against the wall once more before letting him go. He paced around the room, mumbling things under his breath as he heard Calum ask for Michael again. God, he was so needy.
"He went back for you. You owe him that, at least."
"God, you're so annoying. Shut up. I think he got out, I don't know." He rolled his eyes. "'M sure he's fine."
"How do you know?"
He rolled his eyes again before lifting him up to throw the covers over him. "Don't let it worry you, babe. He'll turn up."
Calum furrowed his eyebrows at how much MikeyMikey sounded like Michael. They seemed so fucking similar to him. And he didn't know how, considering MikeyMikey was a maniac and Michael was sweet.
Everything faded out a little, and suddenly he was Mikey.
"Can you go find him for me?"
"F-Find who?" Mikey asked, knowing he'd just came in mid-conversation.
"Michael, of course,"
Mikey nodded, backing out of the room and out of the window. He looked to the back of his shin to wipe off the other 'MIKEY', feeling a little more himself. He leant on the window-frame.
"Babe, it's Mikey, I can't find him."
"W-What?"
