Wild heart - Bradley Will Simpson fan fiction

TWENTY THREE

~*3 March*~

~*Brad's POV*~

It's just gone 4am here in LA and I'm having trouble sleeping. I'm too hot with the covers on, but I'm too cold with the covers off, which makes it impossible to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Just as my body starts to relax, the thought of Becky being pregnant pops into my head and I'm restless again. It's a vicious cycle that's lasted for hours so far; the frustration it's causing making me want to cry.

But it's not just the frustration that's making me want to cry. The prospect of being a father at 18 is terrifying. It's undeniably the hardest job anyone would have to face, so Becky and I have no hope of successfully bringing up a child. Becky isn't on great pay; it's better than minimum wage, but nowhere near enough money to look after a baby. The band has only just got noticed, so we're earning next to nothing, and won't be earning what you'd expect a band to earn for a while. We can barely afford to keep ourselves alive, let alone a child.

I could be putting our band at risk, too. I can't just abandon Becky to look after our child for months at a time but I can't just fit tours around myself; it doesn't work like that. And I can't choose which tours to go on and which tours to miss. The Vamps isn't The Vamps with one of us missing. But I can't expect Becky to be, in theroy, a single parent, because that's what she'll be while I'm away. She'll have to do everything for herself and the baby. And I can't expect her to do that. She could be pregnant because of me; I did this to her. It wasn't out of choice. It's not fair on her for me to leave her for months on end when it's my fault. Maybe it's best if I leave the band, to make everyone's life easier...

These thoughts infuriate me even more so. What am I going to do? What can I do? I play little senarios in my head, thinking about the benefits, the impacts and the outcomes. None of them being suitable for everyone. I groan in frustration, kicking my duvet to the end of the bed and sitting up, my elboxs on my knees and my head in my hands.

" What's up, Brad?" Tris grumbles from the bed next to me. I can't see him properly through the darkness but I listen as his bed creaks and his sheet rustles as he turns over to face me. He flicks the bed side lamp on, that's situated between our beds, casuing us both to squint at the sudden light that slightly luminates the hotel room.

" Nothing, mate. I'm fine," I lie as I reach to the end of the bed to retrieve my duvet and pull it over my legs, the cold suddenly becoming more uncomfortable than welcoming. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." I apologise, sending Tris a half-hearted smile.

" Brad, it's obviously something. I can tell when you're lying to me, " He smirks a little but I find it incredibly difficult to smile back. " You've woken me numerous times in the past two hours with all your groaning and huffing, so the least you can do is tell me why you can't sleep." Tristan sits up, facing me with his long legs crossed underneath his duvet, watching me with a concerned look and waiting for an answer.

All I have to do is look him in eyes before completely breaking down into a fit of sobs and hiccups. I suddenly realise what I've put at risk by getting Becky pregnant, and the thought of it hits me hard. I hold my head in my hands, not wanting Tris to see the mess I am; the boys have never seen me cry before. The bed dips, causing my unstable body to fall into Tristans. He wraps his arms around my shaking body and attempts to sooth me. " You home sick, mate?"

I say nothing in response to his question. Partly because I can't get any words out over my sobs and irregular breathing, but partly because I can't tell him. It's not that I don't want to, I need someone to be there for me to talk to about this situation with, a voice of reason, but I just can't. And I don't want to lie to him. I've never lied to any of the boys about anything, not even little white lies, and this would be a big thing to lie about.