5sos Imagines (ig//@valentiineafi)

Imagine 14 - Fame

"Mike," you said. "I really think you should take a picture with them."
"No time. We're on vacation; they can't just invade our privacy," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "All they do is scream as if that's going to make me want to come over and say hi."
"They're just excited," you reasoned calmly. There was a small group of fans, maybe just about 5 people, waiting outside of your hotel. You were looking down at them from the balcony, trying to reason to Michael just to take a simple picture with them. Maybe even just to show himself and walk onto the balcony to say hi. "It's hot out there, you know. They're willing to wait out there just for you. They really love you."
"Well if you care about them so bad, why don't you go?" he asked, annoyed. "You're all talk, you know? Telling me to go out as you stay here and do nothing. Almost like how I'm the only one here working. You don't even have a job," he spit. "Leech."
You were speechless. It was he who insisted that you quit your old job. You didn't understand where this outburst came from, but as you thought more about it, it wasn't really sudden. He's been growing more arrogant lately, causing more fights between you two.
Without a word, you left the hotel room and went downstairs to greet the fans.
You walked back up to your shared room, opening the door to a scowling Michael.
"What's your problem, now?"
"I can't believe you did that."
"What? Take a picture with your fans? You told me to," you said smugly.
"Now they're going to spread it all over social media saying that I wasn't even willing to say hi. I bet you and your big ass mouth exposed some shit to them telling them that I was just too lazy to go down. Always looking for drama."
"What the fuck happened to you?" you said in utter disbelief. "First of all, you told me to go. Your fault you didn't want to show up. It's up to them what they're going to think of you. Second of all, you have the nerve to say I have a big mouth that exposes and starts drama? If I did tell them, which I didn't, would it really have been a lie?" you asked. His expression didn't change at all. "Again, what the fuck happened to you? You used to always love and appreciate your fans. You never stressed much about having a good reputation since you were naturally a genuine person. Furthermore, you've never gone as far as blaming me for your shitty decisions to protect your reputation."
"I don't need you," he said simply.
"What?" you scoffed.
"I don't need you," he repeated. "You nag. You spread shit. You don't really benefit me anymore. I'm rich now, it's you who leeches off me; not the other way around."
"You've changed," you stated simply. You could see his expression change to a quick glimpse of regret and realisation, however he instantly covered it up with his smug demeanor. "I don't need you. You're not who I fell in love with - a selfish, egotistical prick who cares about nothing more than his money and fame."
"Leave," he said almost too quickly. He looked as if he regretted it the second it left his lips, but his stubbornness kept him from changing his mind to humble himself. "Or are you too scared to lose me? My money, my fame, my everything."
"And that's really all you have, isn't it? Money and fame. There's nothing else about you to love. The traits I fell in love with are gone."
"Leave," he repeated, not being able to deny your statement.
"Watch me," you dared.
You organized then closed your suitcase which was already full of clothes, then walked towards the door. He had stayed in the same place the whole time. His face lifeless, he kept staring at the ground at nothing in particular.
"I said watch me, Michael," you repeated smugly. He didn't budge. He couldn't watch you. You felt like crying, but had to force yourself to save that for once you were alone. You had to manage your emotions. You planned on going to your parents' house, the people whom you had originally planned on visiting during this trip. "Look at me." You grabbed your shoes and threw them on the ground right near the door beside your feet, aggressively shoving them on.
"Stop," he pleaded softly, trying to speak up, however only sounding like a whisper due to his voice cracking. "Please, baby, stop." He still hadn't looked up at you, but you could tell he felt bad.
"Call me when you finally cha-"
"I'll change," he said immediately, kneeling down and grabbing onto your waist.
"Not so fast, you won't. I'm leaving; give it a week."
"No, no. Please don't. I didn't mean anything and I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'll be the same goofy Michael you met back in 2011."
This made you smile, but he couldn't see it due to his face being up against your stomach and his arms behind your back. You laced your hands through his hair to pull him back up to your level, but this made his hold on even tighter.
"No, y/n, please stop," he begged desperately, likely thinking you were trying to pry him off and escape. He had to hold onto you or in his mind, you would slip away. "I can change, I swear. Please give me another chance; I know I've been a dick..."
"My God, Mike, just get up. I can't breathe," you chuckled. He stood up, immediately wrapping his long arms around you to keep you from leaving. One hand behind your back, the other on the back of your head, holding you to his chest.
Hesitantly, he asked, "D- do you love me again?"
"Baby, I never stopped."