"You was crying at the airport when they finally closed the....."
"Luke!"
"...Plane door I could barely hold it all inside...."
"Oh Lucas!"
".....Torn I'm tw......"
"Oh Lucifer!"
"...... Two. And I know I shouldn't tell you but I just can't stop thinking of y....."
"Lukey Pookie!"
"God Dammit Michael what?"
Startled, I looked up from my plate of sushi, the small roll falling from between my chopsticks and into the cup of soy sauce on the floor in front of me where I was sat.
"Woah," Michael chuckled sauntering into the room shoveling McDonalds fries into his mouth, "Someone's on their monthly."
"I'm writing a song." Luke huffed, pulling his beanie down over his ears.
"It's about Charlotte." Calum pipped up from where he was sitting on the other end of the couch from Luke, with his feet propped up on the aggravated blonde' lap.
"Ha!" Michael laughed, "what is it, "Give me the green light, we can go all night until your vag is sore!"
Looking like he wanted to throttle Michael, Luke turned back to his Ninja Turtles notebook, chewing on the eraser end of his batman pencil.
"When was the last time you talked to her?" I asked politely, trying to change the subject.
"They faced times for six hours last night!" Calum replied, "Six hours!"
"What could you two possibly have talked about for six hours?" Michael snorted, nearly falling over as the tour bus turned a sharp corner.
"I don't know," Luke sighed, "Stuff."
"Fascinating." Michael said sarcastically, chucking a fry at Luke's face.
"We just talked okay!" Luke snapped, "About stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Calum pressed.
"Why do you care?" Luke huffed.
"Did she send you nudes?" Michael asked.
"No she didn't sent me nudes!" Luke cried looking appalled.
"Then why is your convo so secret?" Michael questioned.
"Because it is?"
"Why?"
"Because I want it to be?"
"Why?"
"I don't know Michael why do you wear flamboyant shirts?!"
Taking a small step back, startled by Luke's outburst, Michael's face scrunched into a frown.
"My shirts aren't flamboyant."
"Yes they are." Luke snapped.
"They are not!"
"Mikey," Calum said tentatively, "I mean, maybe they are just a little bit....."
"They are not you tool!" Michael spat, "Who even asked you?"
"Ashton, tell him the neck holes on his shirts make him look like a gay Ken doll." Calum sighed.
"What?" I questioned, glancing up at Michael's exposed collar bones.
"Well?" Michael demanded.
"That shirt is kind of flamboyant Michael." I mumbled.
"It is not!" He snapped.
