The Promise | Michael Conor

Chapter 19

Michael's POV

       "Thank you," I tell the woman handing me the three happy meals I ordered. 

      "Anytime for a cutie like you," she winks, and I internally groan. The lady looks at least thirty-five, and that's just plain creepy. I walk over to Dorian, him being the only person who came here with me.

     We had just got a break from rehearsals, and I wanted to spend some quality time with him. He never really interacts with any of the other guys, so I thought this would be good, but so far it's just been really stiff and awkward.

     "Here you go," I hum, handing him his cheeseburger happy meal with a gogurt. He looks confused as he stares at the two remaining happy meals in my hand.

     "Who is that one for?" he asks, puzzled. A small smile creeps on my face.

      "Brynn. She didn't get to eat breakfast with us, so I asked her if she wanted some," I shrug, plopping a French fry in my mouth.

     "Oh," he says quietly, almost so quiet that I can't hear him. 

     "Are you two close?" he asks nervously.

     "I guess, but I've only known her for a week," I answer honestly. A small smile  creeps onto his face right before my phone rings. I grab adjust the happy meals in my hands to they both fit in one before fishing my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket. As I see the caller ID, I smile.

       "Who is it?" Dorian asks.

     "Brynn," I smile before picking it up. His smile falters a little, confusing me.

       "Michael?" she sobs into the phone, making my breath hitch. Dorian looks at me in a worried manner, but I shrug it off.

      "Who hurt you?" I ask automatically, and Dorian's eyes widen. My feet start carrying me towards the jet black van that we came here in.

      "Just some crappy interviewer," she sniffles, and I frown.

     "Do you wanna FaceTime?" I ask. I can hear her heavy breathing and sobs from the other side of the line, making my frown even more prominent.

       "No, I want you to physically be here," she sobs, making my heart break. I overhear someone telling her something along the lines of "no", and her sobs become heavier.

     "And I want to be there also," I sigh sadly, knowing it is going to be practically impossible to see her during the day.

     "Please show up here somehow. I can't make it through three more interviews today," she cries, her breaths becoming even more uneven.

      "Shh it's okay. You're going to be fine. Just take a couple of deep breaths," I coo, and I hear her trying to breath evenly. Suddenly, there is a loud crash, making me jump.

     "Can you guys turn off the fucking cameras for one minute!?! My life isn't a documentary for fucktards like you to record!" she screams, and my eyes grow to the size of golf balls. 

      "So you do have a boyfriend!" a woman's voice screams, and I become confused.

      "No I don't! Leave me alone," she yells, and I hear several doors slam.

     "Michael," she sobs, sounding even more broken.

     "Who do I need to beat up?" I ask, and she does one of those sad laughs.

    "Where are you?" she sniffles.

     "Behind the McDonalds near the studio," I answer.

     "That's fifteen minutes from here. I'm making them go over there I have an hour until the next interview," she hums.