Troublemaker (5SOS)

Chapter Nineteen

Michael couldn't keep up with the conversation that Luke and Calum were engulfed in. He just sat at the bar in silence, tapping his fingers against the wood surface and watching the bubbles rise from his vodka soda. What could he say to Tara that he hasn't already said before? He didn't want to come off too needy, but he was starting to feel like this was a competition, and he wanted to win. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and turned it back on, hoping that she had made things easier by messaging him. As the home screen loaded, no notifications popped up.

"Michael," Calum waved his hands in front of his face. "Have you gone deaf?"

Michael blinked, he had so much to drink that everything felt like a blur, and it all began to hit him at once because he hadn't eaten. "Sorry. I guess I'm just a little lost in my own head. What were you saying?"

"We're talking about setting up some gigs. What do you think?"

"I'm all for it," he says, turning his attention back to his phone. No service. No wonder he wasn't getting any notifications. This bar was built like a doomsday bunker. "I'll be back, I need some air."

As he got outside, 3 new notifications appeared. One was a text from Ashton thanking him, and two were from Tara on Snapchat.

He leaned against the stone building and lowered himself to the ground, keeping his knees bent and close to his chest.

taradactyl: I'm glad that you came over. I'm feeling a little less confused.

What was that supposed to mean?

The next thing she sent was a short, silly clip of her taking a huge bite of pizza, melted mozzarella stretching from the slice to her mouth. Michael replied with a photo of him outside the bar, grinning, because he couldn't hold back his smile whenever he saw her. He captioned it "looks delicious".

It took her no less than a minute to respond.

taradactyl: me, or the pizza?

michaelgcliffor: you, obviously. But the pizza looks pretty damn good too.

She sent him heart and pizza emojis, and Michael closed snapchat, instantly feeling better about himself and the night he was having. The bar's back door slammed a little harshly, scaring Michael out of his own thoughts. Luke's face lit up when he flicked the lighter, igniting his cigarette as he took a long drag. He stood across from his friends, who stayed on the ground, but straightened his legs.

"So, where DID you go earlier?" Luke exhaled, the smoke rising toward the night sky. He already knew the answer, because Michael rarely leaves the apartment the way that he did earlier.

"Just out." He tucked his phone back into his pocket, as if to hide the evidence that he'd been messaging Tara.

Luke remained silent as he smoked half of the cigarette before putting it out on the bottom of his boot and tucking it back into the pack for later. "That's bullshit. You better tell Ash before one of us does."

Michael stood up, brows furrowed and blood boiling. "Tell Ashton what?"

Luke ignored him and walked back to the door, pulling it open. "Calum saw your car at her house when he picked up her sister, idiot."

Michael followed him back into the building quickly, getting close to Calum, but keeping his voice down. "So, what are you saying about me behind my back?"

He was so drunk, it felt like he couldn't even keep his balance, as if he was standing on a boat.

"Whoa, Mike, sit down." Calum held his hands out to steady his friend but Michael pushed him away.

"No, I want to fucking know. You couldn't come to me, but you could say something to Luke?"

Calum looked embarrassed, and he bit his lip as he thought of what to say to defuse this situation. "Sorry, man, I was just worried about you and I know that you're closest to Luke. I wasn't talking about you, I just wanted to make sure that you know what you're getting into."

Michael's voice wavered as he got louder. "Oh, like you know what I'm getting myself into?"

As people began to turn their attention toward them, Luke grabbed Michael by the shoulders and pulled him outside while Calum closed the tab and tipped the bartender. Out of frustration, Michael made his hand into a fist and slammed it against the wall. It would bruise by the morning, but it was better than punching one of his friends, and he knew that even in his drunken stupor.

Calum apologized to him, but he knew it was lost in translation, so he would try again in the morning. Luke wrestled the car keys out of Michael's hand and decided to drive him back to their apartment so he could get some actual rest because at this point he was running on nothing but excitement and alcohol.