Michael: The two of you have been sight seeing in New York on Michael’s day off from tour. He’s holding your hand and smiling blissfully in your direction. “You know (Y/N), without you, I’m nothing. With you, I’m something. But together…we’re everything.” You blush, kissing your boyfriend of two years on the lips. Although you’ve been dating for a while, he always finds ways to make you feel as though you’re the only girl in the world. Michael stops walking, causing your body to jerk as he points across the street, and asks, knowing it’s your favorite, “How about we stop for some frozen yogurt?” You nod, and you guys make your way over. Once you get your yogurt, he holds his phone up, and wraps his arm around your shoulder, kissing your cheek while his flash goes off. “What was that for?” You ask, as he uploads it to twitter, “Just to make everyone jealous that I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world.” You feel your stomach cramp up in slight pain, but ignore it. An hour goes by, and you both realize a crowd has gathered outside, along with photographers. “Looks like they’ve found us.” You gesture to the massive amounts of people, and he shrugs his shoulders, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think they would notice. Well…there’s only one way out.” You walk side by side, until Michael does what he usually does and acts like a gentleman, holding the door for you to walk ahead of him first. What you don’t realize is that the back of your white skinny jeans are coated with a crimson color. Flashes go off, and you feel Michael dangerously close behind you, his hands on your hips, wrapping around your waist. He holds you tightly, as a fan calls out, “Uh oh, it’s someones time of the month! How cute, he’s covering her!” Your cheeks are beat red and you begin to sweat, staring at the ground as Michael helps push you through the countless amounts of people hovering around you. Once you escape the crowd, a car is waiting for the both of you, and you climb in quickly.
Two hours go by and you haven’t talked to Michael since the incident; even after you shower and change into his clothes. You slip into his bed, and tears stream down your face as you stare out the window. All you can think about is the potential millions of people talking about what happened that’ll probably spread into magazines, television “breaking news’”, along with social media sites. You feel the bed rock slightly as Michael lays down behind you. He wraps his arms around you, sliding his hands slightly up your shirt, rubbing your waistline and hips gently. “I’m sorry for putting you through that.” You apologize, choking back sobs. Michael tilts your body so you’re facing him, and he stares into your eyes in admiration, “It happens, (Y/N). People embarrass themselves all the time, it’s human nature. Through thick and thin, come rain or shine, I’ll be loving you for all of time.”
ASHTON: Although today is your birthday, your boyfriend still has a concert to perform. He had promised you a night to remember, along with “THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!” to come. You could hear all the boys singing on stage, and you begin to clean up Ashton’s dressing room, noticing how messy he leaves it. There’s no air conditioner in the room or backstage, so you start to feel sickly heated. You sit down on the couch for a moment to try to catch your breath, only to see one of the stage crew men open the door, and yell, “YOU’RE NEEDED ON STAGE RIGHT NOW! LET’S GO! COME ON!” He grabs your hand, and pulls you out of the room and pushes you towards the stage. You climb up the steps sloppily, almost tripping in the process. The sounds of screaming fans fill your ears as Ashton smiles happily, grabbing your hand, “THERE SHE IS! LOOK AT HOW BEAUTIFUL THE BIRTHDAY GIRL LOOKS!” You feel nauseous in the blaring light on the stage, and grip onto Ashton needfully. He smiles, asking, “You alright sweetie?” You assumed this was his way of making it “THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!”, but the timing wasn’t good at all. You nod, just trying to make him feel better. He smiles, calling out to the fans, “Alright everybody, on three…one, two, three!” Before the song starts, everything goes black and your legs give out, but your head doesn’t touch the ground because Ashton holds you up. You could hear the fans gasp and Calum ask, “Should we call an ambulance?”
A few hours later you wake up in an unfamiliar hospital room, hooked up to an IV. You see Ashton beside you, holding your hand. He’s relieved to see you’re awake, and says, “Oh thank god. You passed out on stage before we could sing to you.” The nightmare of a memory comes flushing back into your mind, and tears well up in your eyes. Ashton laces his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “The heat was too much for you, it’s alright. As long as you’re okay, I don’t care about the press. Everyone is concerned about you.” You shake your head, resting your hands on his shoulders, “I-I ruined the show. Did you finish it?” He laughs, shaking his head, “I went with you to the hospital. The boys finished strong, though.” You know he’s lying because without the drummer, how could they finish “strongly”? You feel terrible for ruining their concert, as Ashton kisses your lips passionately, only to pull away and say, “Nothing you do will make me love you less. I didn’t fall in love with what you did, but who you are.”
