Chapter Text
michael was always tired. tired in the morning, tired in the daytime, tired in the evening. the only time he felt awake was after five cups of coffee; when his fingertips were trembling so badly he could hardly the hold the already cold mug and the caffeine was strumming his veins to the beat of his heart. he was alive, of course, blood was pumping through his veins and his lungs were doing their best to keep him breathing, but he wasn't alive in the way he wanted to be. he went through the daily actions over and over but it was more of a routine than something he did for pleasure. he was a robot with care for no one and only numbness under his skin. the only time he felt truly alive was when the drugs made his slow heartbeat thud in his skull down to his toes along to the lull of the song blasting through his flat, or when his cold fingers met the even cooler surface of his favorite little razor and dragged across his scarred and battered thighs. when he looked in the mirror he saw a former shell of himself, the michael that used to dance around his bedroom to all time low songs was gone, replaced with a sharp-edged stranger with sunken in eyes that no longer radiated a crisp green color, but more of a dull green that only sparkled when tears were streaming down his face and blood was running down his legs. the only friend he had left was calum hood, he'd known michael from when they were twelve and six years later he still believed in him. not even michael's parents believed in him anymore. calum made sure to stop by michael's ratty flat downtown whenever he was passing by (sometimes even when he wasn't) to check in on his friend, and often to pick the trembling boy up off the bathroom floor, clean his oozing wounds and tuck him into bed.
sometimes, calum would bring his boyfriend around to the flat as well. his name was luke, a tall blond boy with bright blue eyes and an outlook on life that was equally as bright. even if michael would get mad or was drunk or high calum would stay, telling luke to wait in the living room while he cleaned michael up and brought him out onto the small sofa, turning on a movie and making popcorn, letting michael rest his head on his shoulder and his (always freezing) feet on luke's lap. if michael fell asleep, the pair wouldn't question anything, cleaning up their mess and turning off the tv, tucking the tall boy into bed and making sure he was alright before leaving. luke never questioned anything, even when he and calum started dating seven months ago they'd come over and he wouldn't ask. calum did tell him once, through his tears when he finally got the green-haired boy to fall asleep after finding him high on who-knows-what in the bathtub, fully clothed, with so many cuts on his arms it took almost an hour to stop the bleeding. turns out about a year beforehand, when michael was hardly seventeen with aspirations to be in a band he had met a boy named harry. they'd fallen in love, madly. it was always michaelandharry and never just michael or just harry. not that anyone minded, michael was happy, not a moment where he wasn't smiling, and everyone around him was as well. then, harry had met another boy, and had been seeing him behind michael's back. if that wasn't heartbreaking enough, michael's best friend tommy had just killed himself. he fell into a depression, but calum made him see the light on the end of the tunnel. on the bad days, was when the bricks began crumbling and obstructing the light. on one particularly bad day, michael had relapsed into cutting after not doing it since he was fourteen and went to a club. a colorful-fringed boy had snuck him a packet containing a small tablet when he saw the tear tracks on michael's pathetic face and being a stupid, impulsive teenager that was looking for an escape, michael placed it onto his tongue. he was instantly hooked. he stopped worrying about school and uni and friends and more about where he'd get his next little tablet. the depression grew in his heart, the small black hole growing into one that consumed his entire heart. luke made sure not to ask about it again.
the one time he did ask again, was just a hushed whisper. luke and calum had come over for their weekly movie night, but michael seemed even more out of it than usual. he didn't focus at all, just staring out the window. calum excused himself to get another drink and luke followed, murmuring a quiet "shouldn't we get him professional help?" as if on cue, calum froze up, staying quiet for a moment before sharply jerking his head to the left and to the right. he had tried that once with michael, back in the beginning. first, it took days to finally convince michael to go. when he got there, he refused to talk to anyone but calum, but when calum was ordered to leave the room by the short blonde lady, michael had a massive panic attack. he clutched to calum's arm for dear life-- calum had bruises where his fingers lay for days. he nearly choked himself, struggling to breathe and think. calum got him out of there and home and warm and sated, but michael retreated in on himself for three weeks. it was like he wasn't even there. calum would come over daily and it'd be the same story, michael would be sitting by the window, staring out quietly with seemingly eternal tear tracks on his cheeks, even though calum never saw him cry. he had to personally bathe michael because the boy couldn't bring himself to and watch him eat to make sure he was getting nutrients in his body. after all this time, he was afraid to say it- but calum almost thought there was no happy ending to michael's story; even if he pushed the thought out of his mind as frequently as it invaded it.
it was now autumn, michael's favorite season. being his best friend, calum knew this and he made sure to pull him out of the house as often as possible, dragging the grumpy green-haired boy on short walks to cafes or just around town. michael wrinkled his nose whenever calum proposed going out, but it was more emotion than he'd shown in months, so calum counted that as an improvement. after making michael go shower (because laying in bed for two days straight was not a way to make sure you were smelling nice) he dragged him out. instead of the usual route through town, past starbucks and around the block back to his apartment building, calum took him farther into town, taking him to a small, homey bookstore that michael used to visit daily. calum could've sworn he saw a slight twinkle in michael's eyes once they rounded the corner and came into view of the shop. they entered, and calum let michael go off on his own, sitting down on a leather couch near the window. the other boy scurried off, pulling the long black sleeves of his jumper over his hands, weaving through aisles before he landed right smack into a boy, a bit shorter than him, with wild curls and hazel eyes that he could never forget.