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"Hey Michael?" Leslie pressed her chest against mine, a burning sensation filling my body as I gazed into her eyes. She was really pretty, and I felt envious because I'd never have a chance with Michael -- myself(?) -- in this sort of situation. It was no wonder why everyone thought Michael and Leslie are in a relationship.

"Oh hey, Leslie."

"You've been acting weird since yesterday," Leslie frowned, stroking the hairs on my pale arms, and if I wasn't completely gay, I'd probably be hard right now -- but then again, Michael is bisexual, so maybe I should try playing along for once. "Do you need something to help you feel better?" Please don't mean what I think you mean.


"You know -- we promised each other that if we really needed to get our minds off of something, we'd relieve ourselves." Fuck. So Leslie and Michael really do have something going on. Too bad I have to ruin it with my gayness. "Are you um, asking me to fuck you?"

"Pretty much, and we can get coffee afterwards," Leslie shrugged as she pushed my guitar away from the couch gently, "I know this great place in the next city we're going to." I'm a virgin. I don't know how to have sex. Maybe because I'm in Michaels body, I'll know how to.

"I don't really want to do this today," I reiterated, sitting up and removing my hands away from her boobs that were somehow placed there by her, "I think I'm just in the mood to be alone and write a couple of songs."

"If you insist," Leslie shrugged, "I'll be inside of the venue looking at the merch stands if you need me." I didn't need her. I wanted to be me again -- why did I wish for something like this? "I suck at writing songs, why did I say that?"

"No you don't," Leslie reminded me of Jet Black Heart and I cackled, because I didn't write that. Michael did. I'm not Michael. I'm Calum, in his body with my mind, and it's insane. "I know what you're capable of, and whatever is distracting you lately is something you need to put and keep in the past. You have fans that practically watch your every move, Michael, and they care about your mental health."

"Do you?" I quirked, knowing that I wasn't in a good place to ask that, despite my curiosity. I was just a fan of Michael, trying to dig deeper into the secrets of his life. Was that creepy? Probably. "Do you care about my mental health?"

"Of course I do, what kind of question is that?" Leslie questioned before opening the bus door and slamming it. Maybe I shouldn't have said that, but I kind of wanted to be alone. I needed to figure things out, despite having a headache corrupting my thoughts. I still wonder if Michael is in my body, and he's probably having the time of his life being a normal teenager.

It was only seconds later when security barged through the tour bus doors, causing me to mentally panic, because I wasn't used to this kind of thing. "There's fans outside singing, and they won't go away."

"I don't mind," I shrugged, assuming that's something Michael would say, "I can go outside and take pictures with them, give them what they want."

"I'm sure they want more than pictures. They're driving the damn paparazzi over here," Jim mumbled, or at least that's what I assumed his name was from the name tag, "I can't have you or any of the other band members getting attacked. They'll try to turn you into something you're not."

"That already happened with Rolling Stone," I reiterated again, remembering all of the drama that followed through with it and how I was one of the main Twitter, Tumblr, Vine, and Instagram accounts that stuck with them, despite everyone else leaving. We're here for the music, not for their damn personal lives. "I don't think the paparazzi will try to tear me down for taking pictures with the fans."

"Well alright," Jim gave in, guiding me outside to where over thirty screaming fans stood with tears in their eyes and dry throats from all of their singing. They weren't as dedicated as me. Oh wait, I have to act like Michael. "Okay, Michael said he'll take a picture with each of you, but we have to make this quick so we can go to the next venue."

Most of the eager fans nodded, while some stood behind and waited patiently. I really hated getting phones shoved in my face already. "Can I get a kiss on the cheek?"

"Sure," I retorted with a small smile, holding myself down as girls continued to tug on my clothes, to which security yelled at them and threatened to take away their picture privileges, but I assured Jim that it was fine as long as they didn't pull or rip anything apart. "Michael, is it true you're dating Leslie?"

"What?" I asked, trying to find that answer myself. I still have no idea what's going on between us, because I'm not Michael. "Never mind, can we take a squad picture?"

It was exhausting after a while.

How do celebrities do this all the time?

"Okay, you all got your pictures, now it's time for him to get his beauty sleep." I was tired. I allowed Jim to guide me back inside of the tour bus, before he walked out and into the venue to grab Luke, Ashton and Leslie who were chatting away a storm with the people selling the merchandise. Maybe Ashton was flirting a little. He couldn't really help it.

And while they were outside getting dampened by fans, I stayed in my place and fell asleep, hoping that tomorrow, I'd wake up as Calum again.




This story sucks ass

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