We Were Young

The Night We Screwed Up

Luke sat on his bed in his shared room, hearing the music blaring loudly through the rest of the small flat. His roommate came into their bedroom, staggering slightly and laughing as a group of girls giggled outside. He shut the door and looked at his blond roommate, gripping a bottle in his hand.
"Lukeyyyy," he whined, tripping over and falling on the boy's bed, sloshing beer onto his sheets. "Come on, join the party," he begged, slurring each of his words.
"You know, Michael. Some of us actually come to college to better their lives... not to sleep with different women every night at a different house party."
"Oh stop being so up tight, Lucas," he said, taking in a long swig of the clear liquid. "Live a little." Luke sighed and took the bottle from his best friend, placing it on the nightstand and closing his text book.
"Get in bed, Mikey. You're hammered... I'll get Calum and Ashton to get rid of everyone." He helped his drunken friend stand up and pulled him over to his own bed in the shared room.
"Oh, Lukey, you make me all tingly when you take charge like that," Michael chortled, falling onto his soft bed.
"Good night, Mike," Luke sighed, slipping out into the crowded hallway. He began making his way through the crowd of drunk, sweaty college kids, trying to find his other two roommates. The air around him reeked of alcohol, sweat, and vomit, making Luke feel sick to his stomach. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand and pushed his way into the less crowded kitchen. Red plastic cups were scattered and there were puddles of varying alcohols everywhere. He saw Calum with a girl pinned against the wall as they made out sloppily.
"Calum?" He asked over the noise of the loud music. "Calum?!" His roommate just ushered him away with his hand, his lips not leaving the younger girl's. He sighed and turned, walking out into the living room. He pushed through the crowd and went to the stereo, unplugging it and stopping the loud music. Everyone stopped and looked towards him, murmuring.
"Great, now that I have your attention, everyone... get out of my house!" He demanded. Everyone groaned as they staggered towards the door. Calum came out of the kitchen and walked over to his friend.
"Luke, mate, what are you doing?" He asked, annoyance laced in his voice.
"Where's Ashton?" He asked, ignoring his roommate's question.
"I don't know..." he groaned and looked around the trashed, but empty, living room.
"Drink some water and go to bed, I'll look for him.." he turned and walked down the hall, peaking into the open bathroom and heading to his friend's bedroom. He knocked lightly before walking in, seeing the curly haired boy sitting on the ground with a girl a year or two older than himself. She was giggling. Luke's eyes landed on his friend. Ashton had his shirt off. A shoelace was tied tightly around his bicep and he held a needle in his arm, plunging the toffee colored drug into his bloodstream, his hand trembling slightly. He looked up and met eyes with the younger blond boy, quickly pulling the needle out and untying the string.
"H-hey buddy, what's up?" He asked, standing up quickly, kicking something under his bed. Luke looked at the young woman and she awkwardly ran a hand through her hair, leaving without being told. "Come on, Luke... it's not like you didn't know..." Ashton said quietly, scratching at his skin. Luke had no words to say. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, feeling his heart clenching. He saw Calum standing in the living room, leaning against the wall with his hands pressed against his head.
"Hey," he said breathlessly, coughing to clear his throat. "Y-you should get some sleep. You have a test tomorrow.." Calum looked up at his friend.
"You okay, Luke?" He asked quietly.
"Fine... I'm going to stay up a bit. Get some rest..." he nodded before stalking off down the hall. Luke took in his surroundings and sighed loudly at the mess. He picked up an unopen bottle of tequila from the floor and opened it, taking a drink to drown the pain of watching one of his best friends hurting himself that way. He knew the image would haunt him forever. He began cleaning up their destroyed home, finding it slightly harder to keep from tipping over around the time he finished clearing the mess, noticing the bottle was now half empty. He walked to the sink and poured the rest down the drain, tossing the bottle into the black garbage bag before walking back to his own bedroom. He found the light on and Michael standing, digging through his dresser.
"Mikey? What are you doing? It's late." Michael turned and faced his friend, his expression softening when he saw the look in the boy's eyes.
"Luke, what's wrong?" He whispered.
"Nothing... I'm fine. You should get some sleep-"
"I cant... th-there's something I needed to do first..."
"What?" Luke asked, closing their door. Michael stepped forward quickly and pinned the tall boy against the wall pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Fireworks exploded in Luke's chest as memories of the two boys from past years flooded to him. All those years of the two being best friends... those years of Luke being hopelessly in love with him. He put his hand gently on the boy's chest and pushed him away slightly.
"Michael, what are you doing?" He whispered, feeling the precariousness of the situation.
"Shh, Luke... this is what needs to happen and you know it... we both know you've wanted this for a while..." he placed his lips back onto his best friends. He pulled away again, this time walking over to his bad.
"Y-you're drunk... you don't know what you're doing.."
"Yes I do... I've always wondered what it's like to be with a guy... who better than my gay best friend?" He stepped forward and Luke fell onto his bed.
"No, j-just stop. Wait a second... h-how did you find out," he whispered, tearing welling up in his eyes.
"Luke... I've always known... you know this is what you want... let me give it to you..." his voice was soft and gentle as he straddled Luke on the bed. The alcohol was buzzing in the blond boy's mind, and before he knew what was happening, they were waking up the next morning, heads pounding as they sat up off the floor, both completely naked. And that was the night the two best friends, completely ruined their relationship.
~~~
He sat behind his desk, tapping his pen in a steady beat as he stared down at his client's file, feeling hopeless about the case, his boss's voice tormenting him in the back of his mind.
"Hemmings, if you don't win us this case the entire law firm is going to be cast into shadow. If you lose it, you lose your job!" He sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb.
"Hey Luke?" Calum asked, startling him.
"Yeah, buddy?" He asked, closing the file and looking up at his only friend.
"I'm heading out, do you need a ride?"
"No, thanks. I'm just going to stay a bit longer. I need to find an angle for this case..."
"Alright. Don't stay out too late, buddy," he said, turning and walking out.
After hours of hopeless research, Luke decided to head home for the night. He packed up his briefcase and began his long walk home. The air was crisp and chill as the twilight moon stood prominently in the sky, giving off light to guide his way. Luke pulled his coat tightly around himself as he felt a shiver run down his spine. A loud crashing sound came from behind him. He turned and examined the street behind him, finding it completely abandoned. He let out a sigh when he saw no one. He turned back around and jumped when he saw a large man standing infront of him. His grip around the case tightened as he felt himself thrown into the wall, feeling his head smack against the brick.
"Give me the file," the man demanded as he head Luke by the coat. He just shook his head, trying to allow his vision to focus again as black spots formed before his eyes. "I don't ask twice!" The man shouted. "Give me the damn file!" He pulled out a curved, serrated blade that looked deadly. Luke knew that no matter what he did would end in his death in this moment... he also knew he wouldn't go down without a fight. He slipped his arm quickly from his coat, swapped the briefcase to the freed hand and began running, free from his assailant and his bond. He ran as fast as he could down the street, slipped into an alleyway and back down another street, heading towards the police station. He heard heavy footsteps echoing behind him and he hugged the case to his chest, running as fast as he could. He was about to turn the corner when something tangled around his feet, causing him to trip and fall, his glasses flying away from his face. He began pulling himself back up, but it was too late. The large man tackled him from behind and flipped him over. Luke held tightly to the case as he bashed it against the man's head, causing him to cripple over slightly. The man struggled to pull out his knife again, ready to gut Luke for all the trouble he was giving him. He pulled it out and plunged in towards Luke's stomach, but he quickly held the case in place, feeling the tip of the blade ripping his skin as it cut through the material. It wasn't deep enough for him to worry about at the moment. The knife pulled back and Luke kicked up, rolling away and standing up again, beginning to run once more. He was breathless and holding onto the cut that was deeper than he realized. He coughed and felt himself getting slower, the world around him spinning in fast circles. He began running quickly up the front steps of the police department, looking back to see his assaulter still following him. He made it to the front door before collapsing to the ground, unable to stand. He began pounding on the door, seeing the man walking towards him still. Before the world faded away.
~~~

Michael sat at the kitchen table, staring up at the clock anxiously. He knew when his wife gets home tonight there was going to be a big fight, but it didn't matter anymore. He heard the front door open and slam shut.
"Michael? Michael!" She shouted stomping into the room.
"Yes?" He asked, rubbing his temple with his forefingers.
"W-what are these? Please tell me this is some kind of a sick joke." He sighed and looked up at the woman, seeing she was on the verge of breaking down.
"Amanda... it isn't a joke," he whispered, standing up.
"I-I'm not signing these. Please, M-Mikey, I love you. Whatever I did, I'm s-so sorry. Please, just dont do this-"
"Amanda, stop, please. I'm not changing my mind..."
"What did I do? Please, can you just tell me that, because just yesterday you seemed to be completely fine with me, you loved me!" He sighed and looked down, shaking his head.
"No..." he sighed and sat down again, putting his head in his hands. "No, I'm sorry, I couldn't keep dragging you along this way..."
"What are you talking about?" She asked, tears flowing freely down her face.
"I couldn't keep deceiving you... making you think I'm in love with you when I'm not... when I don't think I ever was..." she stopped and sunk down into a chair, sobbing.
"S-so your saying our entire marriage was a lie?" She asked, fighting through the tears. He just looked again. "Fine... if you can promise me that you really have never been in love with me, not even for a moment... I'll sign your fucking papers..." Michael pushed a pen across to her and looked into her hazel eyes. "I'm sorry... But I promise you... I've never been in love with you..." he stood up and walked out of the room as she stared after him. He began packing up a bag. He grabbed everything he needed and turned to walk out, seeing his young wife standing in the doorway, clutching onto the papers.
"I signed them," she whispered.
"Thank you..."
"So who is she? The other woman?" Michael just laughed lightly.
"She isn't a woman..." he said, walking passed her and leaving their shared home making the short drive to his parents house.

The next morning he sat in his parent's dining room, listening to his mum ramble on about how she never liked Amanda anyways. His dad sat across from him, eyes trained on the morning news as he zoned out his wife's complaints.
"Say, hold on a minute... isn't that your old friend from high school?" He asked, cutting off Karen, and turning up the television. Michael turned and froze at the sight.
"My god, that's Luke," Karen said breathlessly as the news castor spoke.
"Last week, Prosecuting Attorney, Luke Hemmings, was attacked and stabbed in an attempt to steal the case files he possessed. Today he's released from the hospital, insisting that he will not rest until he sees the entire Blackbeak organization has fallen..." his father muted the television, but Michael continued staring at the footage of his old best friend, stepping into a car as he was hounded by the press.
"What ever happened to the two of you?" His mum asked, playing with her wedding ring. "You were always the best of friends, and then suddenly during college he just disappeared..."
"We got into a fight..." Michael whispered. "He wouldn't want to see me ever again..." he looked between his parents and cleared his throat. "I have to get to work... I wont be home until late, I have to see my divorce attorney..." he stood and walked out of the room. All day there was only one thing he could think of. The boy he never stopped loving, the one he ended his marriage for. Luke Hemmings.