Make It Up To You ~ Luke Hemmings (5 Seconds Of Summer)

Chapter 10

"What do you mean you're not going to tell people why you two broke up?" Michael asked me angrily. It had been a whole two days since I broke up with Luke and I was finally over the alcohol that had still lingered in my system.

Luke had been silent, only speaking when he'd been directly spoken to. Right then he was grocery shopping with Calum and Ashton, leaving Michael and I in the house alone. We were in my art room, a small room in between the bathroom and the living room.

"I just don't think he needs that," I said thoughtfully, trying to mix the perfect colour. I'd started on a new piece as soon as Luke and I had broke up - it was the silhouette of a smooth, hilly area, the sky a mixture of dark blues. "He's obviously sorry. He obviously regrets what he did. I'm not saying people shouldn't know why we broke up, I'm just saying that I won't be the one to tell people."

"I still think you're being way too nice to him." Michael huffed. He was lying on the floor under my feet, pillows supporting the length of his body so he wasn't lying directly on the cold floorboards.

"Mikey, you need to stop that. Please, be nice to him. I need to get over this, we both do, and you treating him like shit isn't helping any of us." I hated that I sounded so harsh but it was what Michael needed to hear. He looked slightly taken aback as he stood up, pacing slightly. "Shit, I'm sorry. That was really mean. I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"No, Ricky, you're right. Luke's my best friend too, I'll talk to him later. I promise." I watched Michael with a smile, the paint brush hovering over the half-covered canvas.

"Thank you." I said seriously, pecking his cheek quickly. "I don't know if we'll ever get back together in the future, but right now we all need to be normal. Well, as normal as possible. I still need to move all my stuff into the spare room." I'd stayed in the spare room the night before, which was going to become my new room. When all my stuff was in there.

"So, when is your British friend visiting?" Michael asked lightly, changing the subject not-so-discreetly.

"You mean Zoe? Soon, hopefully," I said, painting messy brush strokes onto the canvas. "If she can get everything sorted for her and her friends, hopefully they'll fly out a week on Friday and stay until the following Friday."

"What day is it now?"

"Tuesday."

"So they're coming not this Friday, but next Friday?"

"Correct." Michael nodded his head slightly, seeming slightly indifferent to it.

"How many people is she bringing with her?" He asked curiously.

I stopped painting to concentrate on bringing back the list Zoe had sent me so I could prepare for everyone, "Off the top of my head, she said seven people; herself as one, her boyfriend Alfie, her brother Joe, and her friends Caspar, Marcus, Louise and Tyler. Caspar as in, Ashton's friend Caspar."

"But they're not all staying here, right?" Michael sounded slightly alarmed at the idea - and rightly so. Because of recent changes to the relationships in the house there was no spare room. They'd have to share beds or sleep on the couches.

"Of course not! They're staying in the hotel a few miles from here, but I think they'll all come round a couple of times, I might cook a huge meal for us all and throw a small party one night?" I pouted at Michael as he started laughing, his hands placed firmly on my shoulders.

"Ricky, you can't cook to save your life!" Michael's voice sounded joking, but we both knew he was being serious. "We'll all cook - we'll help you make a meal. Okay? At least then there's less chance of someone dying from food poisoning."