loser ; michael au ; DISCONTINUED

11

loser

A few days had passed since Michael and Ami had spent any time together, but it was understandable. She had a job that she had to attend to on most days, and he liked to sleep a lot.

Today, however, he was wide awake by ten in the morning -- a new record for him. Calum and Ashton were playing a very loud and intense video game in the room next to his, forbidding him from catching any more sleep.

He groaned and turned over onto his side, reaching blindy for his phone that was sat on the bedside table.

He clicked his home button and squinted at the bright light, rushing to dim it before he was blinded.

Once his eyes adjusted, he saw that he had received a call from his mom at around eight.

Michael furrowed his eyebrows. His mother hadn't contacted him in ages, why was she now?

It's not like their relationship had hit a low note or anything, but things just weren't the same after the incident.

She shut Michael out, keeping to herself and grieving over the loss of her younger child.

Once Michael turned eighteen, he left home as fast as he could. What was the point in sitting in a home with a mother who failed to acknowledge that even though she had lost one child, she still had another?

He was done with feeling used, so he bought a one-way ticket to New York and never looked back.

In the first few months of living in a shitty appartment in the middle of the city, he met Ashton, who then introduced him to Calum and Luke. After a few months, they all moved in together.

Michael shook his head, banishing the nostalgic thoughts. He refused to get caught up in the past when his present was finally becoming something worth being happy about.

He locked his phone and threw the covers off of his body, walking toward his dresser to grab some sweatpants and a random tee-shirt.

Dragging his body into the hallway towards the kitchen, he placed his phone in his pocket.

As he passed Ashton's room, he made sure to stomp extra loudly. He was upset that they'd woken him up so early.

He clambered into the kitchen, getting out some cereal and milk.

As he was pouring his cereal, his phone began blasting cardiac arrest by bad suns, causing him to drop the box on the ground.

He glanced at the mess and groaned, ready to snap at whoever was on the other end of the call.

Michael clicked on the green answer button, sitting himself on the wooden countertop. "What?"

"Michael!" His mother's voice exclaimed, faux happiness seeping through her tone.

"Mom?" Michael questioned confusedly. His mother hadn't made any effort to communicate with him since his move.

She gave off a fake chuckle. "Don't sound so surprised, honey. Can't a mother call her son to say hello?"

"You never do though," he countered softly, kicking his feet through the air mindlessly.

There was a silence over the line for a minute or two before Karen, his mother, broke it. "I'd like you to come back home."

"What?" He asked bewildered, jumping off of the counter in one fast motion. That had come out of nowhere.

"You heard me, Michael," she audibly sighed from the other end, him for some reason bringing stress to her life.