Please, Don't Speak That Way(Tyler Carter and Michael Bohn fanfic)

Chapter 5

Michael's POV

Tyler and I made plans with Ty, Sky, AJ, and the drummer I know, Josh. We planned to all go out to dinner and talk about our career path.

"I got to use the restroom." Tyler said.

When he stood up, a folded piece of paper fell out of his pocket.

He had already walked away when I picked it up.

There were a few pieces of paper folded together. It seemed like they had been forgotten in his pocket because some of the lines were faded out. They looked like they had been through his clothes washer.

"This just fell out of his pocket." I said.

"What is it?" Josh said.

"I don't know. I hope it's not our lyrics." I said.

I unfolded them. A lot of the words were faded out. But, the words that I could read were definitely lyrics, but not lyrics that he had showed me before.

He come walking back from the bathroom. I stood up.

"Hey, Tyler, are these songs you wrote." I handed them to him.

"Where the hell did you get this?" He asked, anger in his voice.

"They fell out of your pocket when you left to go to the bathroom."

He unfolded all the papers.

"Fuck, they're ruined. I've been looking all over for these. They're fucking ruined."

He threw the papers on the ground and stormed out of the restaurant.

"Tyler!" I said.

I picked up the papers and chased after him.

"Tyler, please stop!" I yelled.

I saw him get in his car and drive off.

I didn't know where he was going, but I'm sure it was his house.

I got in my own car and raced to his house.

I got there and his car was in the drive way. I folded the papers and put them in my pocket.

I banged on his door, because he had locked it.

"Let me in, Tyler!" I got no response.

I remembered that he had fire escape windows in his basement. I climbed the fence and opened one of the windows.

"Tyler!" I shouted as I hopped through the window.

I looked around the basement and didn't find him.

"Answer me, Tyler! Where are you?" I shouted.

I looked all around the house and started to get worried. His phone was sitting on the kitchen counter top, so calling him would do no good.

I finally found him sitting on his back porch.

"Tyler, I was worried sick." I said.

He was sitting in a chair, crying.

"Why do you care so much?" He asked.

"Because, I care about you."

"No you don't. No one does." He said.

I pulled him to his feet by his hand.

"I do. I want to know why you're so devastated about those songs."

He cried even harder. "They were important to me, okay."

He pushed me away from him and began walking away.

I grabbed his arm.

"Please, let go of me, Michael." He said.

I pulled him close to me and wrapped my arms around him.

He tried to pull away, but I wasn't having it.

"Let go of me!" He said.

"I'm not letting you go." I said.

He gave in and relaxed in my arms.

He wrapped his arms around me and I felt him grab the back of my shirt. He sobbed on my shoulder.

I think it's obvious he hasn't had any emotional connection with anyone in a long time. He needed someone to hug him and I'm glad I was able to be that person. I'm glad that I'm able to be here.

There's something bothering him. I wish he would tell me. I wish he knew that he can tell me anything. I can't completely be there if he doesn't feel like he can talk to me.