Daft || Malum

Still No Date For The Prom?

A/N: New cover brought to you by the one and only, the perfect quantum-fags. xx

Calum was no where to be seen by the time I got off stage. His guitar discarded carelessly on one of the backstage lounge couches. The bright orange duct tape smiley face teasing me, looking as if it knew exactly where Calum ran off to.

I turned around and started walking down a random hall, whipping around corners at random. Suddenly my phone was ringing, I fished it out of my pocket and answered quickly.Hoping to hear his unique speech and unmistakable voice. A usually cheery voice began talking as soon as I hit answer.

"Hey Michael? Do me a favour and stay off of Twitter for a while." Ashton said, sounding a bit off.

"Yeah, alright." I mutter in a flat voice, saying a quick goodbye.

What a stupid thing to say, now I have to go on Twitter.

I quickly click the app, scrolling through my feed to see every inch talking about mine and Calum's kiss. Pictures flooding in from all different angles, in all you couldn't even tell Calum was holding me in place. Most--if not all, were exploding about how I forced him to kiss me.

 I have to admit we look damn cute together though.

I checked my messages to see a large amount of hate coming in, from overprotective Calum fans to homophobes to people flipping out at me because 'Calum's straight.'

Why in the hell am I mutuals with homophobes? I respect their opinion and I'm glad their into our band but we don't mix, like balloons and cacti.

 A word caught my eye in one of the posts, I enlarged it to make sure I had read it correctly.

@Michael5sos Started out with a kiss, next thing you know you'll be caught sexually assaulting the poor boy.

The ground collapsed, it felt like the floor had caved underneath me. In reality my knees gave out, sending me plummeting onto my bum with my back pressed against the cool eggshell wall.

From far away one would assume that I was in this position for comfort, long legs sprawled out in front of me, probably waiting for someone. Completely relaxed.

A closer look would revel a red faced teenage boy who was having trouble standing after what felt like several blows to the gut.

The destroyed feeling stayed when I did manage to stand, my breathing rate escalated drastically when I moved down the hall.

A little awkward at first, like a baby learning to walk, my pace quickened with every beat of my heart. The still air whipped my hair back as I cut through it, stumbling around corners like a confused thief trying to get away from the cops.

The stadium network was bigger and more confusing than anyone gave it credit for. Every hall looked the same, almost like turning around a corner only brought you back into the previous hall. I could be running in a circle without even realizing.

The only thing that didn't seem to repeat itself were the plain paper signs taped at intervals, I guessed they were directions although I couldn't decipher the Spanish words typed in super lame Comic Sans.

My lungs were lit up in flames, burning at an unbearable pace but the pain wasn't enough to stop my legs. My heart was pounding a million times a second, making the need for oxygen intensify only to be sadly mistaken when the lungs began to feel like they had shriveled up the size of raisins. 

Let me tell you, wheezing with lungs the size of almonds isn't fun. I honestly thought my next breath would turn them inside out. My lungs deflated faster than my mood when Ashton goes out and forgets to pick up the pizza, only to arrive at the pizza place after closing time.