Luke left to England. He waited at the boarding area for 20 minutes, in hopes Michael would show up. No such luck.
Michael stayed home with Ashton and pitted himself.
2 months came and passed and both boys lived different lives. Luke settled in at his publishing industry and wrote a lot about Michael. He never had the guts to call him.
Little did he know Michael was half way around the world, slowly deteriorating. Ashton quit his job just so he could keep a close eye on Michael. Everyday he stayed more and more in his bed.
"Hey Ashton have I got any calls?"
"No, sorry mate. "
"Oh okay. Anything new I should know about?"
"Erm, yea. Yesterday I called my doctor and told him about what was happening with you and he said it wasn't normal. He suggested I took you to a clinic. He gave me a few good ones and I called one. I'm going to take you in tomorrow okay?"
"WHAT THE FUCK ASHTON WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME TO THE CRAZY HOUSE?"
"Don't yell at me Michael. I really think your depressed so I'm getting you help, okay?"
"Okay."
That night Michael cried himself to sleep with 19 new cuts on his arm.
