Pompeii ➳ muke

fifteen

The interrogation lasts all of ten minutes before Michael decides that he has had enough. He's hardly answered any of Wilde's numerous questions. He has been keeping his replies vague.

Michael cannot seem to admit the truth. There is not a single person other than his therapist that knows his secret - and maybe now Luke, if the blond has been wise enough to catch on.

"Before we left Chicago I told you to stay away from the paparazzi, didn't I?" Michael nods silently in response, "And it's obvious that you could not do that simple task. What am I supposed to do now?"

The blond holds his blank expression even though he is screaming inside. Acting out will only make the situation worse.

"First you punch a cameraman and now you are having rendezvous with teenage boys. Have I completely lost the Michael I once knew?"

Wilde sighs heavily, taking one final glance at the tabloid before discarding it in the trash.

"I believe that it is best for you to lay low for awhile and I really mean it this time. No more going out. No more blond boy. Do you understand?"

Michael nods once again before rising to his feet and swiftly exiting the room. His heart is racing and he feels as if he can hardly breathe.

It should have never come to this point, he should have stopped communicating with Luke after the first night. He should have known that nothing good would come of it.

Once he is back in his car, Michael types a quick message to Luke -

i think we need to talk. come over tonight?

The reply comes much faster than anticipated -

i'll be there.