i'll do my best // muke

Im not okay

Luke's POV.

I woke up at twelve on Friday, getting extra sleep so I didn't look tired tonight.

As soon as I got up, I hopped in the shower washing my hair, and body twice.

I stepped out, and stood in my bathroom. I towel dried my hair and put my pajamas back on. I pulled out my hair dryer, and sprayed heat protectant on my hair. I turned the dryer on high, and combed out each section of my hair carefully while drying it. Once it was bone dry, I plugged in my straightener that I haven't used in forever. I promised Michael the best I could do, and he won't get anything less.

I straightened out each part of my hair that had the slightest wavy piece until it was all laying flat. I didn't finish my hair, but instead I walked into my room, rolling on deodorant. I brushed my teeth, and used my whitening pen to let it settle in. By the time all of that was done, it was already 3:00.

I walked back into the bathroom, and pulled out the makeup I had saved for moments like this. I know I'm a guy, and makeup is usually for girls, but I still want to look good. I rubbed foundation under my eyes, and around my forehead. I placed concealer over my dark circles, and acne scars to cover any imperfections. I blended everything in, and placed a thin layer of powder over my face; nothing noticeable.

I walked back to my room, and took off my pajama pants. I slipped on a pair of black jeans, along with my black vans. I walked to my closet and pulled out the white button up shirt. I took off my pajama shirt, and replaced it with this one. I tied the tie, and turned down the collar.

I walked back to the bathroom, and pulled out my hair gel. It took me thirty minutes to get my hair into the perfect quiff. I really liked my hair like this, but I've never worn it to school like this. I just never felt brave enough. The last thing I did was put my contacts in.

I re-brushed my teeth, and walked out to the room. I pulled the coat on, and put my phone in my pocket. I looked Into the mirror, and smiled at myself. That's something I've never done. I've never smiled when I looked in the mirror, probably because I've never felt more confident in myself than I do right now.

I sprayed a bit of cologne on before I skipped down the stairs.

6:30. Perfect timing.

I locked the door on my way out, and started walking on the path to the school. It was just getting dark outside, and it was really peaceful. As I came closer to the school, I saw cars pulling up, and people walking in, looking truly amazing. I opened the doors, and walked to the large gym. I opened the doors, and felt eyes on me. People let me through as I smiled, walking to Michael who was talking to some couple. As I approached him, I reached out, and touched his arm.

He looked over to me, and his eyes widened. "Luke. Oh my g- you look amazing." He said, and I smiled, hugging him. "I actually feel really beautiful for once." I said, looking up at him. He didn't respond, but just bit his lip nervously. He glanced up, and I looked to see what he was looking at. Kellin and Jack were sitting up at the top of the closed bleachers. "What are they doing?" I laughed, leaning onto him. He shook his head no at them, but they obviously didn't see. "Now? Okay." Jack yelled, and they started throwing papers out of boxes, and Michael yelled, "No!"

I laughed as people started to pick them up. "What are these?" I asked picking one up off of the ground. I heard laughter erupting all around us. I started to read over it as my face dropped. There was a picture of my head, photoshopped onto a person with their ribs showing, thighs separated, and collarbones extremely prominent. It was clear they had an eating disorder, but what the paper said is what really made me upset.

'Hi I'm Luke Hemmings. I starve myself and blame it on my mum. I'll have sex with you for $20 every half hour. I make myself throw up so I can look better than I do now. My mum said my dad died for medical reasons, but I know he just killed himself to get away from me-'

I couldn't even read the rest.

I looked up and saw Michael standing there with a blank look on his face. There was no doubt that tears were spilling from my eyes. "What satisfaction are you getting out of this? Why are you getting amusement out of hurting someone who cares so much for you?" I asked, wiping my face with my sleeve. He stayed silent, and I shook my head.

"My dad died from cancer by the way. When I was nine. He was honestly the only friend I had in elementary school. He didn't kill himself to get away from me, he was actually the only person who's ever given one šhit about me, so don't make fun of him." I said, turning from Michael and storming out of the gym doors.

I ran to the school bathroom, and sat against the wall. I placed my head in my hands, and sobbed.

I've never wanted to die more than I do right now.

Everything he said to me was a lie. He didn't care. All the times he kissed me, or held me, he felt nothing, while I felt everything. I felt explosions when he kissed me, and when he held me I felt so safe.

I stood up when I heard footsteps coming near. I ran from the bathroom, and I ran out the doors, not stopping until I came to my house.

Once I got in, I threw off my coat, and kicked off my shoes. While I was running up the stairs, I undid my tie, and unbuttoned my shirt. I threw off all the stuff I took hours to do, just to make one boy feel like I cared enough to give him my best.

I walked over to my desk, and slid everything off, onto the floor. I was a sobbing and hiccuping mess, and I ignored the constant ringing of my doorbell. I've never done one thing to hurt Michael. I just don't understand.

If I were skinnier, he'd like me. If I were better looking, he'd like me. If I just weren't myself, he'd like me. I walked to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet shoving two fingers down my throat, and instantly felt everything come back up.

Attention seeker.

I did it again, and I heard someone shouting my name from the hallway.

"Luke!" I heard closer. "Luke? Are you okay in there?" I heard Calum's voice.

"No." I cried, flushing the toilet, and grabbing the toothbrush. He opened the door and I began brushing my teeth. He stood behind me as I brushed, and looked at me sympathetically. I spit, and rinsed off my brush, putting it back.

"I can't even explain how much this hurts, Calum." I cried, laying on his shoulder. He rubbed my back, and comfortingly whispered sweet nothings to me. I shook my head, and walked back into my room. "Why am I never good enough Calum?" I asked. "What do you mean?" He asked. "I'm not even good enough for my own mum. Why do you think she starves me?" I cried. He stayed quiet, and I became frustrated at the silence. "Why?!" I yelled.

"All I ever needed was just someone to tell me I was good enough! Someone to tell me I'm okay!" I yelled, feeling my eyes start to burn.

"I've never been okay with myself! Haven't you seen that?! I'm actually not mad at Michael because he only showed me the truth: Nobody loves me! Nobody cares! If I died, there'd only be more space for my mum! Nobody would care, Calum!" I cried.

"I'm not okay." I whispered, falling to my knees.