Boulevard Of Broken Dreams [ Wattys 2015 ]

XXIII - "Everything's alright."

i kinda feel bad now, cause everyone's so excited and happy about the story and the harry/demi moments and it breaks me to think that what's coming up is very complicated shit.... >_< like uh i cried my brains out reading the ending of this story (i wrote the whole thing before in a notebook)

and my favourite actor, noel fisher, who plays the role of mickey here posted a pic late last night and he just, uh emphasized my sadness. i guess i just have to hold my emotions ._. i posted the pic on the right side so you can see it too...

omg i'm so sorry

"Looks like Harry Styles reported the man who seemed to hit his new fling. To be honest, he is just acting dramatic over it. After all, seriously, what could a brick do? She was even sent to a hospital! Oh Lord, she could just have stayed home and put some ice on it, but no, she takes advantage for extra care from her rich boyf-" ...

He turns off the TV, staring at it even though the screen is already black now. There's something in him, something telling him that things won't get better. But things are better. Demi, is better. She is in her room now, resting, her curly boyfriend sitting right next to her, Kris making her delicious pancakes, Ann joking over the whole thing.

Suddenly his chest is empty. Suddenly, his lungs are not there anymore. He breathes,  but doesn't feel the air. He gulps down harshly as his skin trembles.

A warm hand relaxes his shoulder, and he knows whose hand is, just by the feeling. He glances at it, his eyes paler than ever.

"Mickey?" the voice asks.

He looks over at the redhead, whose face is filled in worry. But he's too numb to answer.

He touches his elbow, and Mickey's features contort in pain.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, demanding for an immediate answer.

"Yes." Mickey responds shortly, running a hand through his black jet hair.

"Did something wrong happen?' he turns now in front of him.

"No. Everything's .... Perfect." his voice cracks at the last word. "Everyone is so happy."

He flashes a fake smile and pushes his fist on Ian's chest, slowly and playfully, trying to convince him of what he just said.

But nothing appears on the redhead's face, beside a long stare at the person in front of him.

"You're not." he speaks.

"Doesn't really matter." is all Mickey can say, his ears filled with Demi's laugher coming from upstairs.

He tried to just sit on the couch, stare off into space, do nothing and feel nothing. Moment of reflection or some such shit. But it wouldn’t take. His fingers wouldn’t stop itching, like they needed a cigarette or something, but he’d already gone through a pack today already so that couldn’t be it. He stood to his feet and paced around the room a few times, trying to get the jitters in his legs to calm down.

He didn't understand the feeling. Everything was fucking alright, he tried to convince his heavy mind.

Ian was there, staring at him blankly, but mutely yelling for a reason to this person's thoughts, missing smile. Mickey glanced at him, eyes running up and down, meaningless. He breathed slowly, like he didn't need oxygen anymore.

And suddenly, he needed someone to wake him up. To tell him-

"Everything's okay." Ian continued his mute beg. "You should, be happy, y'know?"

Mickey nodded at him and stood up. He felt tired. Tired from life.

"I'm off to bed. Good day." he greeted Ian before dragging his feet to his bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two  Months Later

I brushed my hair slowly, letting it fall on my shoulders. It was still early to seven, the time I usually wake up for work. I feel tired, but I can't sleep. So I just walk around the house, like it's a place I've never been before. I take my time to check some small corners who seem to look interesting, rather than usual. My bare foot comfort themselves on the cold floor, step after step. Everything's so quiet, so empty along with my mind. I look at some glossy old polaroids; and take one of them in my hands and brush my fingers against the faces.

There's Kris; I can notice her from her small eyes, a huge goofy smile I barely see these days on her and a man with the same smile and glasses holding her in his arms. They're in a yard, a motorcycle behind them. She looks happy, gentle and free. To my surprise, she's wearing a floral dress. I remember she told me she hates dresses.

Smiling, I let go of the photograph and put it back where it was.

I start thinking of everything had has happened these past months. Yes, there have been many problems, fights, death threats and tears, but they didn't matter compared to the moments of joy.

I liked my life the way it was, I loved the people inside it. And I didn't need anything else.

I let out a hard cough and put my hand over my mouth.

As I reached to wipe it, something inside me burned as I glared at it. Small red drops covered it.

There was blood.

And this wasn't the first time.

I felt a bubble starting to build up in my stomach but I ignored it, quickly cleaning my dirty hand with water.  My body felt fine, beside the cough I had once in a while. I guess it was from the hard hit I got two months ago. Sometimes I would get heavy headaches too.

"Demi, is that you?" Kris yelled as she came in the kitchen.

"Yeah it's me." I glanced over at her, smiling.

She smiled back and opened the fridge.

"Since when you wake up this soon?"

"Just couldn't sleep." I explained taking a sip of my water glass.

She just nodded and stuffed a cookie in her mouth as she walked away from the room.

"Are ya free today? Thought we could hang out or shit."

"Sure." I yelled from the distance and gave myself a cookie too.