Ashton:
She lies awake.
I’m trying to find the words to say.
I wish I was, I wish I was beside you.
“I miss you,” Ashton whispered with a sad smile gracing his lips.
You looked down at his face in the small screen of your phone and did your best to bite back your tears. You had been face timing for the last fifteen minutes, but neither of you had really spoken till now. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than stare into his face thousands of miles away.
He was somewhere in America today. He’d been gushing to you all about it the night before. Ashton had gone on and on for a near twenty minutes last night about the beach not far from the hotel, and he gave you a small tour of the suite they’d given him. He always tried to be lighthearted in these conversations, but sometimes neither of you could help the sadness seeping into your bones. “I miss you too Ash.”
Calum:
The silent words are hard to speak
When your thoughts are all I see
”Don’t ever leave,” she said to me
“Just… don’t leave me for some California girl; all right Calum?” You tried your best to make a joke of it, but the smile on your lips never reached your eyes.
Calum pulled you tight against his chest and hid his face in your hair. He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye. He inhaled and exhaled deeply to try and calm himself down, but that only filled his nostrils with your flowery perfume that he knew and loved. ‘Don’t cry.’ He had to keep repeating in his head.
He didn’t care that his parents were looking on, or his sister, or the boys, or the fans. But he didn’t want to cry in front of you. He knew how lonely you got while he was away on tour, and he knew him having a breakdown would only make things worse for you when he left.
Calum pulled his head up and took a deep breath of clean air to try and rid his nose of your scent that he would miss so much. Ashton was over your shoulder trying to wave him towards the terminal with the other two boys making fools of themselves behind him. Calum put on a brave face and looked down at you with a smile, “Don’t ditch me for some guy who got fired from a video shop for tapping on benches.”
Luke:
Within a minute I was all packed up
I’ve got a ticket to another world
I don’t wanna go
“Luke?” Luke looked down at the sound of your voice.
It was his last night in town before tour, and he’d taken you down to the beach late at night to get a little privacy on a final date before he had to leave for several months. You had always loved to watch the waves crashing on the shore, and he wanted to watch them with you one more time before he had to leave. The look of joy on your face as the water lapped at your feet and the sand tickled your toes was a sight he never wanted to forget.
“Yes beautiful?” He smiled down at you and squeezed your hands in his for comfort. He sat behind you with you nestled between his legs and his arms tight around your waist, gripping your hands in his.
You looked up at him over your shoulder and paused for a moment, contemplating how to word this. “I know you’re worried about leaving, but you shouldn’t be. I’ll be right here waiting for you to come home. I’m not going anywhere.”
Luke looked down at you with a sad smile and saw all the determination and truth behind your eyes. “I know, beautiful… I’ll just miss you is all.”
Michael:
When we both wake up underneath the same sun.
Time stops, I wish that I could rewind.
So close but so far away.
Michael sighed out loud and came to a slow stop in front of the bookshop at the street corner. He was meant to be out buying his mother’s birthday present for his dad, a new book by her favorite author. However, it had only just occurred to him where he was meant to go.
“I can’t do this.” He whispered to himself, looking up at the sign above the door as his eyes began to tear. Despite popular belief, Michael had not missed home while on tour.
Sure, he missed his mother and father, the rest of his family, and of course his friends, but he was happy to be away from this awful city for a while. Every street corner was home to a memory of you, of a better time. He wanted nothing more than to rewind, stop himself from ever going to that bar, stop himself from getting drunk, stop himself from betraying your trust.
He wanted to look with fondness at the memories of this bookstore: how you used to laugh at that one letter in the neon sign that flickered on and off spelling an obscenity when it was off, or the coffee shop down the street where the waiters knew him by name because he constantly ordered the exact same thing when he stopped to get you a coffee, or the way your nose scrunched up when you were walking down the street with him and you got a call because you didn’t want someone ruining the moment.
He missed you, but it was all his fault.
