subscriptions [l.h]

thirteen

dedicated to my fav lorenzo, scottie

"fucking michael clifford I am going to end you." i say menacingly, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation throughout my skin as i near him.

we were at the boys house because i was released last night and i left everything i own, okay not really, but a good chunk, there.

ashton drove us back here, so rachel just went out to get our rental car. all the other boys were asleep except michael, my victim, and i was waiting for rachel to get back here so i can go home and sleep until i die. but first, i have to beat up this annoying pixie boy.

i pull back a fist, i'm going to punch him. this is it.

he holds up a hand in front of his face.

"wait! technically, this is calum's fault." he says quickly and i furrow my eyebrows.

"he sassed us, so i reacted. it's his fault." that kinda made sense.

"yeah, but then isn't it luke's fault for dropping me off here?" i add, raising my eyebrows and lowering my fists. i sit next to michael and sinks down to the floor with me.  i could still punch him from the ground, i guess.

"well, actually," he interjects, running a hand through his cherry red hair.

"then it's ashtons fault for texting you back." hmm, good point.

"well, but you gave him my number." i say, matter of factly.

"wha? how did you know that?"

"i didn't." lucky guess, biotch ! 

"damn."

"actually though, it's luke's fault because he saw me at the 7-11." i counter my own statement.

michael raises a finger. "well, calum found your videos first, so that's how luke knew."

"but i talked to you on the phone that night"

"but ashton was the last to join the band"

"but cal works out the most"

"but im allergic to apples" THIS IS NONSENSE WHAT EVEN HAPPENED HERE I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO PUNCH HIM.

"ugh," i sigh, rubbing my forehead.

"my head hurts." i groan.

"LUKE THIS IS YOUR FAULT." michael yells. i wince and slap him (pretty lightly) on the arm.

"jeez, mike, it's only like six in the morning! you had to?"

we chuckle, well, mostly him. luke sprints in after hearing michael yell. we can hear his loud footsteps from a while away.

he's shirtless and his hair is messed up. whoa. the disrespect in this household. clearly he had just woken up and thought michaels yelling meant something was wrong.

"what? what's wrong? mike did you give fae another concussion? should I get rachel? oh god you're sick? WAIT YOU'RE PREGNANT??!" he rambles, exasperated and dazed.

and, there's the luke we know.

i squint my eyes and cock my head.

"um what?"

-

"hey guys, it's fae and uh, as many of you know i was recently diagnosed with a minor concussion." i purse my lips and look into the camera that was sitting across our hotel room.

"it's really not a big deal, i promise. but i can't be on electronics or shit for the next two days i think. it'll be good for me, but yeah, you guys are going to get a little cut off from tweets and pictures."