Where ☹ Muke

XIII ; i know i'm not worthy.

« hemmings »

"Okay so Luke you have to clean the bleachers," Alex said handing me a bottle of wood cleaner and a dust pan as I scrunched up my nose.

"Can't I do something easier?" I whined, probably sounding like a total bitch.

"You could set up the technical production, or you could sweep and mop the flooring?" He laughed as he handed my a rag to wipe the bleachers down with.

"You know what, nevermind." I sighed getting up and walking towards the bleachers setting down my cleaning supplies and turning to my backpack and rummaging through it finally feeling the plastic case protecting my phone.

I found my "cleaning playlist" -- don't judge -- which is a group of upbeat songs that I use to get my blood flowing so I can dance around and make the most of cleaning.

Finally I began to dust off the bleachers with a bounce in my step as I brushed over each layer carefully collecting all dust and candy wrapper and the occasional -- luckily unused -- condom. Quite honestly average high schoolers are disgusting.

Honestly I just lay around fangirling about bands and youtubers and play video games 24/7, and that's about all I do with my home life. I'd never tell anybody from my social circle that though because they would totally judge me, I'm supposed to be the one constantly hooking up with anybody and everybody or playing basketball.

I had climbed up to the fifth seating and was finishing Mr. Brightside when somebody began tapping my shoulder. I pulled out a headphone not caring enough to turn around to face the person. "What?"

"What the hell did you do to Ashton?" It's that asian kid.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"He left school because of you, it's been almost ten hours since the and nobody has seen him."

This is all my fault, this is my fault that he's missing, it's probably my fault that Mikey hasn't been here, I'm a horrible person.

"He probably fell asleep in a trash can, where he belongs." I muttered picking up all of my supplies and tossing them to Calum's chest before walking out of the building.

-

"How was your day?" Was the first thing that came out of my moms mouth when I slammed the door shut behind me.

"Suck a cock." I screamed racing up to my room and allowing myself to scream into a pillow.

I'm such a fuck up lately, all I do is wrong.

Calling a stranger a faggot is wrong, telling off anybody and everybody is wrong, bashing at my innocent mother is wrong, and I do it all simply because I can't accept the fact that I've fallen for a guy.

Why is it so hard for me grasp the fact that I'm simply infatuated with Michael Clifford, why can't my stupid little brain seem to understand it's okay to like the same gender. I know it is simply because I've seen so many happy homosexual couples and I want to be like that.

I stared blankly at the photographs taped to my bedroom door, they were simply photos of friends and I though mostly photos of me and Michael. Everybody always asked me who the boy was, you see Michael wasn't all that popular when he was here and he left when we were young, so obviously they wouldn't recognize him. I always opted to lie to them with the same stupid story.

"Oh him? That's my brother, he passed away when he was twelve but it's not that big of a deal. That dumbass ran out in the road in front if a car," I'd laugh, "he was being an idiot and raced out, it was normal for him to do stupid things. Don't tell my mom but I'm pretty sure he was mentally retarded, I mean he was always being an idiot. But it's okay because he's dead now, so he can't screw up anymore." And they would simply laugh with me. ( a/n : I do not decimate against others, I just used it in this context because Luke is a douche and I wanna beat the shit outta him. )

My mind couldn't handle these old memories, they hurt too much -- so I did what I've always done.

I texted the first female contact on my phone telling her I'd be over in ten before getting up from my bed and checking to make sure my door was locked. Then I made sure my wallet was in my pocket and my phone was charged before sliding my window open. I climbed down to the edge of the room and ducked down holding tightly to the edge before swinging my legs over and dropping to the ground.

I walked quickly to the girls house, Morgan to be specific, she's always been my go-to girl when I needed somebody. She's a good supporter, if you could call her that -- in other terms she's a nice fuck.

"Hey Lukey." I cringed at the nickname but walked through the door and followed her to the kitchen where she handed me a bottle of vodka and took one for herself. Something was screaming at me to put the bottle down and head home, that this wasn't the right thing to do.

But I ignored it.

I pressed the cold bottle to my lips letting the metallic liquid swim down my throat, I drank and drank until I was a giggling, constantly hiccuping, mess. She drank too and at one point she ended up in my lap sloppily kissing me in an alcoholic rage. Everything was beginning to blur, and that made me happy.

We kissed until our lips were growing raw with the numbness that the alcohol stained our lips with, we touched one another until our fingers felt unnoticeable to the other, we fucked until we were moaning messes barely holding onto reality, we cuddled until we fell asleep in one another's arms. ( a/n : I will not write hetro smut, just no )

And not once, did I think about Michael.