Author's Note: I'm going to apologize in advance that this chapter is so short, but I finally know what I want to dow with the plot of this story again, so I am still currently writing a new chapter as I post this one. Don't you worry, another chapter should be up tomorrow or the next day. Thank you for being so patient with me while I've been on a hiatus of sorts.
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Harry's POV
"Styles, I need your help." my eyes still burning from the brightness of my phone.
"Mikey, what happened?" I asked, looking at the alarm clock on the table next to my bed. It was four in the morning.
"C-can you meet me somewhere? I don't want to talk about it over the phone. It's not my fault. It's not my fault, Styles. I didn't start anything. It's not because of me." I sat up, more concerned now.
"What did you do? Who did you talk to? Where do you want to meet? Can it wait until the morning or is it really serious?" I groaned.
"It's really serious, dude. I need to talk to you. I- I don't know what to do." Michael insisted. "Can you meet me by Frank's soon? I mean, I'm already here. I've been here for a while. I- I called you a few other times. I'll see you in a couple minutes, yeah?"
"Sure, I'm on my way." I sighed. I swear, one day I'm going to collapse from exhaustion and never get back up again. Luckily, Charlotte wasn't in my bed, so I didn't have to worry about her waking up and wondering where I was headed off to now. Frank's was only ten minutes away from my house, so it didn't take long until I saw Michael's red corvette sitting in the empty parking lot. I pulled up next to him and got out of the car. He was leaning up against the driver's side door of the Corvette. He was practically shivering even though it was warm outside. "What happened, Mikey?" I asked. He refused to make eye contact. Instead, he stared straight ahead like he was staring at a ghost.
"I- I- I k- killed someone..." For a second, I heard nothing and then my ears started ringing. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It felt like I was still asleep. Everything was moving in slow motion. I looked down at my feet to make sure that they looked normal. If my shoes were on the wrong feet, I'd know that I was asleep. But I wasn't. My shoes were on the right feet.
"What... What are you talking about?"
"I killed... someone. He's- he's dead, but he was going to kill Calum. Calum was going to die if I didn't kill him, Styles. You have to believe me. Calum will tell you."
"What the fuck..." I said, trying to punch my car, but I couldn't put any force behind it so it was a really lame attempt- like I was fist bumping the metal. "What's wrong with you? You know what the rules are here. You know that we don't kill people. The only way... the only way to keep ourselves safe is to never take it too far. We don't kill... people, Michael..."
"You're not listening, though! If I didn't, Calum would be dead right now. Would you rather it be Calum or someone we barely know? Listen, I'm freaking out. I wish that I could take it back, but if Calum would be dead for it, I'd never take it back. It was worth saving my best friend." Michael's voice started shaking and he got tears in his eyes.
"Don't worry about it, man. I'll fix this." I said, breathing heavy and trying to figure out what my plan of action was. "Stay with me for a while. That way you'll stay under the radar... How long ago did this happen?"
"I drove straight here."
"What the- you're a real dumb ass, Clifford. Where's the guy now?"
"By- by the plaza on 53rd street..." he stuttered. My stomach dropped.
