Where Michael thought that he was genuinely going crazy, but three certain murderers just wanted him to feel that way.
Luke, Ashton, and Calum always had each other as their only sources of love, and they thought that their trio was all that was nee...
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41 - Scared or Flattered
At first Michael obliviously didn't think anything of the random texts that he would get that repeated the number 5. It was probably a random and weak prank, resulting in him blocking the number.
But it was when he got a message from yet another unknown number saying 5 when he was starting to get paranoid again.
It's only been three days ever since he got the first message, and he was freaking out over the fact that he just got yet another text message while he was sat in his office at work.
Staring at the message in conflicted silence, he slowly typed his own message before sending it.
From Michael: Who is this?
He continued staring at the screen, waiting for a response to his question. But he didn't get one, making him sigh out in relief. It was just some stupid prank. He couldn't get so worked up on small stuff.
Michael quickly got back to work, working on his recent story about a fundraiser a small community group did to help support the homeless citizens of the city. He had to worry about the innocent stuff in his life, and he had to stop thinking about the worst of his past.
—•••—
"Just the number 5?" Mel asked with scrunched, confused eyes, "What does that even mean?"
"I have no idea." Michael sighed out when he looked at his friend who sat across from him in the large, round table that held all five of them in the restaurant.
"Like you said, it's probably just some stupid kid being annoying." Andy laughed, trying to make his friend feel better.
"Yeah, Mike. There can't be anything to it." Andrew said.
"Instead..." Andy sent Michael a small smirk, "Let's start planning your birthday bash."
"Shut up." Michael groaned dramatically, "You make too much of a big deal about birthdays."
"You only turn 26 once." Sarah winked.
"Don't remind me." He groaned again.
Michael couldn't believe that he's already turning 26. The past few years have moved by slow, but also so fast at the same time. And the only thing that could stick out to him with this birthday was the fact that he was turning Calum's and Luke's age when they were together.
Calum and Luke were 26 while Ashton was 27, and it was an odd concept to him that he was now the same age that they were when they were off committing the large murder spree.
But Michael then stopped himself. He promised that he would leave his past behind and he would move on. He was no longer in California and he was here with his new friends and in a new place, far away from wherever the the three might be.
"Party at your house?" Andy asked, making Michael send him a glare, "Party at my house then?"
Michael sent him yet another glare, "How about no party at all instead?"
"Ugh!" Andy groaned out dramatically, "But we NEED a party."
Sarah laughed from this and patted Andy's back, "I'm pretty certain that none of us need a party. Plus it's Michael's birthday, so if he doesn't want a party then that's it."
"Thank you, Sarah."
"Anytime."
"We should do something to celebrate at least." Mel mentioned, "It can be something small like a get together or some dinner."
"Dinner is always nice." Andrew nodded his head, being the food obsessed one of the group.
"Dinner is fine." Michael shrugged. He just didn't feel too much excitement for his upcoming birthday. It seemed as the years continued to go by, events and special dates like this lost their value.
"Dinner it is!" Andy smiled cheekily.
—•••—
Going to place his keys into the padlock of his front door, Michael frowned when he realized that the door was already unlocked. Pushing the door gently open, he entered his apartment and flicked the lights on.
He could have sworn that he had locked the door when he left. Sighing, Michael knew that he probably just forgot this one time. Instead he had to remind himself to check every time he left.
After locking the door behind him and placing his keys onto the small desk next to the front door, Michael ventured into his small apartment and stopped in his bedroom first.
Pulling off his clothes and putting on a pair of sweatpants and a random band shirt, Michael narrowed his eyes in confusion when he heard movement coming from his living room that he was just in.
Opening his bedroom door—him closing doors was just a habit, since he lived by himself—Michael ventured back into the living room, looking for the source of the sound. He huffed in relief when he only saw the window being wide open. It could have been something or someone much worse.
Pulling a chair towards the open window, he climbed on top of it in order to reach up to the surface, since it was placed higher up. Gently closing it shut, Michael clasped the lock so it wouldn't spring open like he assumed it had just previously done.
But a sudden knock at his door made Michael jump in the chair, making him roll his eyes at himself at how paranoid he was being. Pulling the chair back to it's initial spot against the wall, Michael walked to his door and looked out of the peephole.
Frowning in confusion, Michael couldn't see anybody outside of the door. Moving his hand to the lock, he frowned even more when he saw that the door was unlocked.
Michael felt a shiver go down his spine from that. He most definitely had locked it when he got home.
Shakily opening the door, Michael peered out of the door and looked down either side of the halls only to see them completely empty. But his eyes narrowed on a piece of paper that was placed in front of his door.
Leaning down and picking it up, Michael took one more look down the empty hallways before entering his apartment once again.
Locking the door, Michael shakily opened the piece of paper. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw that it was a picture of himself. It was a perfectly drawn portrait in black and white, and he didn't know if he should be scared or flattered.
Michael forced himself to calm down. If someone was actually in his apartment then the piece of paper would of been threatening, not a delicate piece of art like this one.
But he didn't find anyone in his apartment. So he could only remain the oblivious man he was.
Placing the picture onto his kitchen counter, Michael ventured back into his room to call it quits for the night. He was tired and him freaking himself out wasn't helping.
Michael simply forgot to lock the door two times. He simply left the window open. Whoever dropped the piece of paper off was simply a friendly neighbor or friend. The texts—including the one he received as he fell into his slumber—were simply a joke.
