The Nightmare Angel

Demons vs Nightmares

He stared out at the thousands of lights shining at him, a loud ringing sound echoing in his mind, drowning out Luke and Calum's bantering. The world seemed to spin in fast circles around him and he felt as if he might fall over at any given moment. He walked up stage and took in deep shakey breaths, realizing his hands were shaking like crazy. His chest felt as if it was constricting, ready to squish his heart. He couldnt have a panic attack now, on stage, infront of everyone.

"Mike!" Ashton said, snapping him out of his thoughts from his drumset. "You okay?" He just shook his head and turned away. He heard the boy's beginning to play their closing song, but he felt like he wasn't in control of his own body he missed his que to start twice before Luke started singing his part for him, giving him a worried look. Michael pulled his guitar off and handed it to the crew member in the pit, staggering off backstage. The crew started swarming him, asking if he was alright as he pushed away from them and ran into the dressing room, heading into the bathroom and locking the door. He fell to the ground, shaking still as he began sobbing, everything around him in the world dulling into nothing more than a glared obscurity. All sounds were muffled and everything around him blurred. All he could hear was the loud ringing and his shallow breaths. He felt a tight knot growing in his chest and soon it was impossible to breathe. Minutes seemed to stretch out into an eternity, until finally a voice pulled him back into reality. There was a muffled knocking sound and then the voice of his angel...

"Michael? Mike, are you alright? Come on, Mikey, let me inside, I'm worried about you..." Luke. Michael pulled himself up, his entire body shaking now, and he unlocked the door. Luke came inside, closing it behind himself before tackling the boy in a hug. "What happened, Mikey?" He whispered, rubbing his best friend's back softly. Michael's legs collapsed beneath him and Luke helped him sit on the ground, still holding him tightly. Flashes of that awful sign and the girl's taunting faces bouncing around his mind.

Kill yourself, Michael Clifford.

"D-did you see it?" He asked, his voice wavering and cracking.

"See what?"

"Th-the sign. The one that the girls towards the front were holding..."

"I was hoping you wouldn't see that..." Michael choked on a sob and burried his face in Luke's chest.

"W-why do they hate me Luke? Why me?"

"I don't know, Mikey. I don't know how anyone could ever hate you..." he choked out another sob. "Hey, hey, look at me. It doesn't matter what those two girls think of you. Especially because I know that you are the most amazing, wonderful, caring, handsome, generous person in the entire world, and you know what else?" Michael sniffed and looked into Luke's sincere blue eyes.

"Wh-what?" He whimpered.

"I'm totally in love with you..." Michael smiled and let out a soft breath, resting his head on his boyfriend's chest again.

"I-I love you too," he whispered as the blond boy held him tightly.

"Here, let's clean you up," Luke whispered, standing up and sitting Michael on the toilet. He wet a washrag and kneeled infront of the boy, brushing his sweaty blond and brown hair away from his eyes. He began gently washing the tears from his face. He dropped the rag into the sink once his face was cleaned before placing a soft kiss on his boyfriend's lips. "You ready to get on the road?" He whispered. Michael just nodded his head in response and stood up, intertwining their fingers as they walked out.

"Hey, there he is, you alright, buddy?" Ashton asked coming over and hugging his best friend.

"I'm fine," he muttered.