Stories In The Morning, But Legends Tonight| m.g.c

Ch. 13~ No Happiness

~Emma's POV~

"Alex?" I answered the phone call, wiping my eyes.

"Emma?" he whispered. "Emma, what's wrong?"

"It's Michael," I sigh, my voice cracking.

"What about him?" Alex sounded worried.

"We-ugh," I took a moment to calm my breathing. "We aren't together anymore."

"What?! Why?!"

"He was happy, Alex," I cried. "I couldn't be happy. No matter what, I couldn't feel anything. I'd just lay in bed and do nothing."

"Do you still love him? Did you ever love him?!"

"God, yes, Alex!" I felt somewhat insulted at his latter question. "That is why I left him! He deserves to be happy-to be with someone who is happy!"

"You'll get better one day," he sighed. "Then, you'll regret letting this boy go. Emma, Michael wanted nothing more than for you to be happy. Those days in LA, god- I've never seen anyone so upset that they couldn't give their love what they needed."

"Alex, what are yo-"

"He wanted to make you happy. Michael felt like he needed to make you happy. How do you think he felt when you told him why you were breaking up?!" Alex raised his voice.

I gasped and began to cry again, "Oh my god. I've never thought about it that way. Oh my god."

"Emma," Alex sighed. "You need to talk to him."

"I'm scared to, Alex," my voice trembled.

"Why?" he whispered.

"I'm scared he won't be happy," I broke down into full sobs.

"There's only one way to know," Alex whispered. "By the way, put down the razors. People are figuring it out."

"Alex-"

"Go on Twitter," and with that, he hung up.

I threw my phone onto the bed and started heaving in breaths. Tears rushed down my face and my stomach felt unsettled. The anxiety hit me like a brick wall, suddenly appearing out of no where. My limbs trembled and my muscles felt weak; I obtained a feeling of unreality. The depression only crashed down harder on me. I was alone on the bus.

I picked up my cellphone after a few minutes. My thumb hovered over the call button, eventually tapping the screen. I desperately wiped my eyes as the phone rang.

"C'mon," I mumbled, praying he would pick up.

"Hey, this is Michael. I can't get to the phone right now, but leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as possible. Thanks!"

"Dammit!" I screamed, then my voice came back down to a normal volume. "Michael, it's Emma. I know I told you I didn't want to talk to you, but there's something I need to know. Please."

Just as I was about to leave the bus, my phone rang.

"Michael?" I answered.

His voice sounded broken, "What do you want?"

"Michael," my voices warbles, "are you happy?"

"Of course," he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "The one person I didn't want to lose-the one person who I needed-decided that they could carry on without me."

"Michael," it felt as if Michael stabbed me in the back, "that's not why I br-"

"I don't care, Emma," he cried. "I needed you so I could be happy. I was going to help. God, it's all I wanted! I wanted you to be happy."

"Michael, I'll never be happy. I will never be like Geordie!"

"What are y-"

"Kaitlyn told me. Actually, I asked her," I whispered.

"Emma, I'm sorry. I was just trying to get over yo-"

"I broke up with you, remember?" I spat.

"I don't love her. I don't even have an interest in her. I'm just trying to get over you," Michael sighed. "I'll never get over you."

"Does everyone know?"

"About what? The self-mutilation?" Michael asked. "The first, real attention brought to it was two weeks ago. Now, the whole fan base suspects it."

"Oh my god," I whisper. "What will they think of me?"

"Some feel bad for you," he informed me. "Others think you're an attention whore or you're weak."

"What do you think about it? You know its true. Why do you think I do it?"

"I wish I understood why," his voice slowly rises in volume. "Fuck! How can you do this to yourself?! There are people that admire you! People that love you!"

"And who the hell would love me?! A lonely, depressed, suicidal girl!" I screamed.

"God dammit, I do!" he screamed and everything came to a halt. "I don't care what you are. I don't care what you do. I don't care who you love. I love you so fucking much, and god-it hurts to know you aren't happy with that. But, no matter how much you hurt me or yourself-I'll always love you. There is absolutely nothing that you can do that will throw my love out the window."

I cried, "Michael, I-"

"Whatever," he said, "I can see that you don't feel the same way. Goodbye, Emma."

I was left with a constantly beeping dial tone, "But I do love you, Michael."

I picked up one of my Converses from the floor and threw it down the bus hallway. I screamed as tears rushed down my face.

"I do fucking love you!"

"Why can't you get that I won't be happy?!"

I resorted to punching the mirror in the little bus bathroom.

"Get over me!"

"You deserve more!"

"You deserve happiness!"

I collapsed onto the bathroom floor, my hands holding up my weight and my head hung in shame.

"Oh my god, Emma," Zac stood at the threshold of the tiny doorway. "What did you do to yourself?"

~

The large fire pit surrounded us with heat. I pulled my legs up into the foldable, mesh chair. I wrapped my arms around my legs, my lacerated knuckles on display.

"Want a smoke?" Zac handed me a pack and a lighter.

"Thanks," I mumbled, lighting the cigarette in my mouth.

I passed him back his supplies and took long drags from the Marlboro in my mouth. Everyone talked around me, but I only focused on my phone screen. The Twitter fans had figured it out. Figured out everything.

"Emma," Zac scolded me. "don't worry about it."

I sighed, "But it's hard not to."