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The comments used to be 193. THANKS, . I OFFICIALLY HAVE MORE COMMENTS THAN I DO READS BC YOU CAN TYPE THAT FAST.
Luke's POV
We were about twenty minutes away from going on stage, and Michael had been wearing a jacket all night; it wasn't that cold, honestly. But if he was cold, that was his problem. He's been here in sleeveless shirts and thin jeans before.
"Fifteen and you're up," one of our staff called, "make it quick."
"Thanks, man." Calum said.
Michael was still somewhere unknown to us, and so was Arzaylea. The two of them were usually at opposite ends of the room, maybe even the building, and it was no surprise when they wouldn't look at one another for days, like they were invisible to each other. Michael usually was reasonable when he was ignoring someone, but Arzaylea hit him hard, apparently; he wouldn't even talk to us about the incident, or about her in general. He'd leave the room when we asked him what was wrong not even hours after he'd come back out of the bathroom, and hid in his room. Since he started doing this, we've decided to just let him ignore it like he wanted, hoping that he'd talk eventually.
But when we had ten minutes to go until we were on stage and he still wasn't there, we got antsy and I started looking for him. He wasn't in he bathroom, dressing room, lounge, or in the hallways, so I sighed and checked outside, near the van, and saw his leg sticking out from the side of the van.
"Michael, we have five minutes to go until we're on stage." I said. He didn't make a move to get up, though, and I knew something was up. "Michael? You wanna talk?"
He sighed, standing up, and that's when I got a look at how bad he looked. His hair was unnaturally wild, he had slightly red eyes that were still watery, and his hands were balled into fists, but they still shook, no matter how hand he tried to control them.
He looked up at me with a blank face. "How long do we have until we go on stage? 'Cause if it's less than two minutes, I'll tell you on the way to the stage."
I checked my phone, and we had a few minutes to talk. "We've got three minutes. Tell me on the way."
Michael nodded, and we walked toward the stage in silence for a moment, before he broke it. "I hate this sometimes."
"Hate what? Touring?" I ask, and he nods, looking guilty.
"I mean, the fans are so worth it, don't get me wrong, but.. five years, Luke. We've been touring for five years, almost nonstop. After this, I'm so taking a break." He vented, but I knew there was something more. So I pushed on.
