All of my 5sos work

Planned: Epilogue

Two months later. 

 My life had resumed some normality. I spent most of my time now writing, finalising the ending to my novel which is what I wanted out of all of this. Looks like I achieved my goal.

Except in all of this I thought I could leave it behind, if only. My phone remains off most of the time now, the bombardment and borderline harassment is never ending. Fans want answers, they crave answers for our relationship after that night, after that concert. They all want to know why is Michael sad. Why does he want to play Wrapped around your finger in every show, why he makes speeches about the importance of love and trust. They want to know what made him break inside, they want the answer to be me.

My phone started to ring just as I finished another chapter, 'one more to go' I thought to myself as I hit save. "Hello?" I gained cheerfulness in this past month, beforehand I barely spoke and dedicated all hours and energy to writing, whether that be songs or my book it was my only pure distraction from it all.

"Y/n, I have someone on the line for you, I'll send them through." Gary told me and before I had the opportunity to object thick Australian mumbles greeted me.

"Hello?" I asked curiously, wanting to know who it was since Michael had tried initially but eventually gave up. I never read his messages as I knew it would break my heart to try.

I'm greeted with more incoherent noise and just as I go to put the phone down someone speaks up. "Y/n? Please tell me Gerry from before gave me the right number." His voice rang a vague bell in my mind, it began to turn like cogs to try and put my finger on who it was.

"Did you mean Gary? That depends on who's asking." I stated, sometimes I got calls from time wasters who want me to talk about mine and Michaels 'rough patch' that we're viewed as currently being in. Or fans who wanted to tell me rather than type it how I've ruined their lives, that I don't deserve to live anymore. Hence why I changed my number, shut it all out.

"It's erm, Ashton. I'm Mike's friend." My throat went dry as I argued mentally on whether to continue talking to him or cut him off now, either way is just as painful. "Please, hear me out." I obliged, let him talk or say what needed to be said.

"Go ahead Ashton. I won't hang up." That familiar defeat in my voice, how I was avoiding it at all costs. Yet things have a way of working their way back to you like that, karma's a real bitch at times.

He let out a sigh before beginning, already I knew I'd be a while so I moved away from my writing area and towards the window seat. The leaves had become a crisp range of warm tones, ranging from golds to bronze that coated the ground below. My favourite time of the year where it's acceptable to drink as many hot drinks as you can without risk of judgement now summer is over, meaning all nine cups of tea within three hours.

"Mike's miserable. And I'm not aiming to make you feel worse, I'm really not but it's a messed up situation." I couldn't help but agree, I knew I was overboard with leaving and not telling him but at the time it felt like my only option.

"Fans are worried, I get told this everyday." I stated to him before he continued, leaving out the excessive hate I get because of this, the whole thing. 

"He won't open up to us, he won't chat about what happened between the two of you so we've had to guess." My heart began to ache at the thought of him keeping this bottled inside, not even telling those closest to him. As soon as I got home I phoned Y/f/n, she came with wine and chocolates within hours to help me talk it out. Two months to keep it inside is painful to even think about. "Could, could you tell me?" He seemed apprehensive, as if I would snap and refuse but I couldn't.