Chapter Text
This is a strange feeling.
His eyes are closed, is he dreaming?
He can't be. He can smell the ocean. He can feel the wind brushing against his skin. He can hear someone... something... calling out.
"Hurry up! Come on!" A voice called out as Michael felt a hand tug on his wrist. His eyes snapped open and Michael gasped as he saw his surroundings. He could suddenly feel the sand under his feet and hear the sound of the crashing ocean waves ringing in his ears. He wasn't in his room anymore. The sun shone overhead, but the impeding clouds were coming closer, signaling a storm.
Michael hates storms.
A hand was gripped onto his pale wrist, tugging on it relentlessly. The boy in front of him was pulling him across the beach, squealing wildly as the ocean breeze blew his dark hair messily around his blurry face. His brightly colored swim trunks reflected the sunlight, making his skin appear to glow. He looked strangely familiar, like the sun that rose in the sky each day.
"Where are we going?" Michael asked as he stumbled over seaweed and seashells littered around the beach.
"You don't remember? We do this every year," the boy exclaimed, determinedly pushing the two towards a cove surrounded by jagged rocks. It looked recognizable but Michael couldn't recall.
A sharp jolt of pain hit Michael as he took a step closer, making him stop in his tracks. Each footstep made the pain even more intense. The boy was still pulling on his arm, each yank feeling like a bullet going through his head.
"Stop!" Michael screamed, freeing himself from the boy.
The boy cocked his head, staring at Michael with confusion. "Why don't you wanna go?" Crack. A strike of static cut through the boy, his whole body flickering for a mere second. Michael noticed it and backed away.
"Who are you?" Michael questioned. Hurt flashed across the boy's face. Flicker. Static again.
"You don't remember me?" He took a step forward, making Michael step back.
"I don't know you," Michael said slowly.
"Yes, you do. You do know me!" The boy exclaimed. He was constantly flashing in and out of presence, like a broken hologram. A crack of lightning struck the ground next to them and Michael screamed. Dark clouds overhead pelted the two with rain.
"It's all your fault," the boy mumbled. His eyes were now devoid of the warmth he had a few seconds ago. It was replaced with a glint, a glint that Michael did not like. It was a warning sign that flashed: DANGER! DO NOT GO NEAR!
"It's all your fault," the boy said again, his tone more dangerous, louder. "It's all your fault! It's all your fault he's gone!" The boy said, louder than before.
"It's not my fault!" Michael pleaded, "I don't know what you're talking about!" The boy lunged at Michael, wrapping his slender fingers around his neck. Michael struggled to free himself but it was useless. He could feel his airways closing up as he gasped for air.
"It's all your fault!" He screamed, and everything faded away.
"Michael! Michael, are you okay?" A worried voice asked. Michael's eyes snapped open, and he frantically looked around. He took in the band posters and the random articles of clothing strewn around the room. He felt the feeling of his gray bed sheets against his skin and the light streaming in from behind his curtains. The blue-haired boy sighed with relief, this was his room.
It was just a dream. A strange and crazy dream.
His mother stood in front of him, her blonde hair messily put up in a bun and dark bags lying under her eyes. "Christ, I was worried for a second. I was just about to leave for work but I heard you screaming as if you were being murdered!" She smiled softly and brushed Michael's blue hair out of his eyes. "Anyways, it's just about time to get up, so rise and shine!" Michael's mother opened his window curtains, letting the bright sunlight into the room.
"Ugh, mum!" Michael whined as he grabbed his pillow and covered his face with it.
"I'm going to work. You better not be late to school, mister." Michael's mother moved the pillow and pressed a kiss to her son's forehead before leaving the room.
Sometimes Michael has to remind himself to be grateful for his mother. She works long, hard hours to support her son and herself and somehow always has a smile on her face. Michael guesses that's where he got most of his personality from.
Michael decided there was no use in falling back to sleep now, so he decided to get up. His feet slowly padded across the floor as he stumbled sleepily around the house while he got ready for school.
Senior year.
It's the last year that Michael will ever have to go to his horrible high school. It was unusual for Michael to call it horrible since he usually tried to see the bright side of things, but it was indeed, horrible. It was a shitty high school full of shitty people, but that excluded his friends, Luke and Ashton. Michael and they were like the school's little group of misfits. A lot of kids in their school were different, but for some reason people liked to target them. Especially certain people, but Michael didn't like to talk about them.
Just when he finished getting dressed, a buzzing came from Michael's phone and he opened it to read a text from Ashton.
7:45 AM
Hey, I have my mum's car for today
Coming to pick you up in a few
7:46 AM
Oh wait actually we're outside haha whoops :3
Michael rolled his eyes at his best friend's horrible choice of emoticons and quickly checked himself in the mirror before grabbing his backpack and heading towards the front door. A sticky note on it saying "Don't forget to eat something" with a heart on it made him double back to the kitchen and grab a piece of toast left out for him on the counter. He then put on his shoes and walked out the door. A honking noise sounded from a white van that was parked in front of his house. Michael contemplated on whether or not to run back inside the safety of his home and call the police when he realized, this was Ashton's mum's car.
"Get in loser, we're going to hell!" Ashton called out in what Michael thought was a horrible imitation of a white girl's voice. He attempted to flip his hair but his obviously too short sandy blond curls just stayed in place as he missed his hair entirely and ended up slapping the air.
"Wow, I love hell!" Michael cheered, pretending to be excited as he got into the passenger seat of the car.
Luke groaned from his spot in the backseat and rolled over, "I hate everyone."
"That's a nice morning greeting," Michael chuckled as he put his backpack on the floor and turned on the radio.
"I hate you especially. The world is ending and you're here eating toast and being happy." Luke had obviously just rolled out of bed. His blonde hair wasn't styled in the normal way he did it and instead flopped over the side of his face, and his clothes weren't planned into his usual look of "I Wear The Same Clothes As You Do But I Look 10x Better." And because of this, Michael knew that this was one of Luke's drama queen days, which was practically almost every day of the year.
"Here, have my toast." Michael held out the piece of bread towards Luke. The blonde boy immediately sat up in his seat and snatched it out of Michael's hands and stuffing it in his mouth. "Thank you, I love you," Luke beamed with his cheeks full of bread making him rock the chipmunk look.
"Talk about a change of heart," Ashton mumbled as they pulled up in front of their school and parked in a free parking space. The three boys grabbed their backpacks and stepped out of the van, dreading the day ahead of them. They walked through the doors of the school, their sneakers echoing throughout the noisy hallway. They were just about reach their lockers when a boy in a blue letterman jacket walked by and shoved Luke into a wall.
"Oh whoops, sorry," The kid said sarcastically, "Better watch where you're going next time!" The boy laughed as he walked over to his friends who were also laughing with him.
"Fucking snakes," Ashton hissed as he glared at the snickering group of boys. He wrapped a protective arm around Luke and rubbed the blonde's shoulder. "Are you okay?" Ashton asked as he thought of the many ways he could get away with everyone's murders.
"I'm fine. Probably used to it by now," Luke mumbled as he stumbled to his locker, "They're just jealous that they can't ever be as gay as me, right?"
"Exactly," Michael piped up, "They're just a bunch of straight white boys who clench their assholes at the sight and sound of the word 'gay."
"They're probably all secretly sticking each others serpents up their asses anyways," Ashton grumbled as he glared at the banner that said "Go Cloverlea Cobras!" The three boys couldn't help but make snake puns whenever they talked about the horrible people that went to this school.
"Did you hear how they're starting football practice again?" Luke scoffed as the other two boys groaned in unison. "We're all going to die, especially me. And I can't die when I still have to be on Broadway!"
"You're going to be fine, Lucas," Michael said, "Broadway will always wait for you."
"You're starting to sound like Ms. Dupont," Luke grumbled at the sound of his theatre director. The three boys continued to talk more about Luke's Broadway dreams, Ashton's desire to be the best drummer in the world ("But you already are." "Shut up, Michael."), and Michael's ambition to do something worthwhile, when suddenly the first school bell rang.
"Ew, we have math," Luke griped after Michael and he said goodbye to Ashton who had to go to a different class for first period.
"But you like math," Michael chuckled as he pushed his way past the groups of students crowding the halls.
The blonde shot a withering look at his best friend, "Yes, I like math and it's my favorite class, but no. One cannot like math class, it's just- wrong." Michael just rolled his eyes and shook his head as they entered the classroom. Michael took his usual seat in the back of the class with Luke sitting behind him and waited for the bell to ring once again.
The teacher walked to the front of the room and took one of the markers from the whiteboard. "Okay class, we'll be learning about..." And Michael kind of just spaced out after that. His mind drifted off to his thoughts as he wondered about random things and life in general.
His brain suddenly reminded him of the dream (or was it a nightmare?) he had last night. He couldn't really remember what had happened. All he could remember was the beach, a blurry-faced boy, and a storm.
He shivered at the thought of storms; he hates storms. He doesn't mind rain, but if there's lightning and thunder, he automatically shrivels up into a ball and starts crying.
Who was that boy anyway? He couldn't remember what he looked like and he seemed familiar but he's never met him before.
Michael was snapped out of his thoughts as a sharp voice cut across the room.
"Damen! I've had enough of you talking in class, and it's only October!" The teacher exclaimed as she pointed at a red haired boy that Michael knew as the kid that sits next to him who acts like he's literally satan's child. Damen grinned and merely snickered with his friends even though he was obviously in trouble. They were all dressed in blue varsity jackets and Michael couldn't help but roll his eyes, Snakes.
"Maybe if I move you away from your friends, you'll behave better," The teacher huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Damen did a double take, his grin wiped clean off his face. "Wait, what? No, please Ms. Valerie, don't!" He pleaded. Michael and Luke looked at each other and smirked.
Ms. Valerie smiled and looked at her seating chart and thought things over before facing one of the kids sitting in the front row that Michael couldn't see. "Calum, is it okay if I move you to the back?"
"Yes, ma'am- I mean," The boy cleared his throat, "Yeah, whatever."
"There's a Calum in our class? When?" Michael whispered to Luke. The blonde just shrugged and went back to writing down different mathematical equations in his notes. The blue haired boy rolled his eyes, Not liking math my ass. Michael knew a lot of people and a certain someone named Calum never popped up into his head.
Who even has a name called Calum?
All of a sudden the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground and a chair squeaking made Michael jump as he looked to see who he thought to be Calum sitting next to him. Michael glanced at the large backpack that Calum dropped on the floor before taking in the boy who would probably be sitting next to him for the rest of the year.
Michael had to admit, the boy was attractive. He had fluffy charcoal colored hair and deep brown eyes. His big cheeks rounded to a sharp jawline and his blue sweatshirt contrasted nicely against his brown skin. Michael blushed as he realized that he'd been staring at this boy for a while and looked up to find that Calum was staring back too.
The two made eye contact and Calum's eyes widened as he swiftly turned away and started furiously scribbling on his math notes. Michael brushed it off as nothing and tried to pay attention to the teacher for at least the rest of class. He needs to get at least a passing grade.
After the lesson was over, the bell rang and everyone started packing up their stuff. Michael watched as Calum swung his backpack over his shoulder and left the classroom before he could say anything. Damen ran after him, yelling an "Oi, Calum!" as he tried to keep his things from spilling out of his bag. Michael stared at the doorway and was just about to space out again when he felt a sharp pain in his left temple.
Luke flicked Michael's head again and stood in front of the blue haired boy with a frustrated pout on his face. "Michael! God, it's like you're in a coma or something!"
Michael blinked his eyes a few times as if he was refocusing on reality. "Oh sorry, Lucas. Didn't know you were there."
"I was standing right in front of you," The blonde seethed, "Anyways, we gotta go to History. Come on," he grabbed Michael's wrist and tugged him through the hallways, ignoring the poisonous jeers and taunts of their peers.
This happened for the next few classes, with Michael spacing out and Luke having to snap him out of it, and snakes being snakes; just a normal day, really. Calum wasn't in any of Michael's other classes, and Michael figured that was the reason why he never noticed the kid.
The bell rang and finally, it was lunch time. The two boys were reunited with Ashton once again, and Luke updated him on everything that happened in class while they walked to the cafeteria.
("Ms. Jenkins is pregnant!" "How? She doesn't even have a boyfriend!" "Don't question her ways, Lucas.")
"Hey Ash, is there a kid in your class named Calum?" Michael asked as he noticed a familiar boy in a blue sweatshirt pass by. He was talking to a group of snakes; hopefully they don't poison his tea or something.
Ashton thought for a moment and replied, "Calum Hood? Yeah, he's in some of my classes; he's a pretty chill guy. Why do you ask?"
"Nothing, it's just-" Michael wondered for a moment, why does he care? "It's just I've never seen him before and suddenly he pops up in my math class, and it's kind of weird."
Luke and Ashton gave each other Looks before facing Michael again. "Well, he is new this year. Heard he moved straight from Port Charlotte, not sure why though," Ashton responded, a sly grin forming on his face. "You got a crush?"
Luke jumped up and down squealed, "Ooh, love at first sight! That's so adorable. I ship it!"
"I do not have a crush, for your information," Michael huffed, "I was just wondering."
"Okay, whatever you say," Luke and Ashton said with a glint in their eyes.
Michael really was just wondering. There was something strange about Calum, and the blue haired boy couldn't put his finger on it. He was strange but familiar; which made it even more strange, and Michael just wanted to finish his senior year in piece with nothing unusual going on. Ashton and Luke talked and giggled while Michael spaced out once again.
What really was unusual was the fact that Luke and Ashton weren't dating.
The three boys walked into the cafeteria. The room was already packed with noisy teenagers and it would be hard to find a seat. Luke went to go save them a table since he brought his own lunch from home. Michael and Ashton got in line to gather the quality food that the school provided.
Michael really loves school lunches and he hopes that everyone appreciates his sarcasm when he says that.
After being served their healthy and delicious food, the two made their way back to the table where Luke sat. Ashton sat next to the blue eyed boy while Michael took his place across from the two.
"Remember when I auditioned for the school play last week?," Luke said after taking a bite out of his sandwich. Crumbs flew everywhere and anyone who's seen him eat has to admit: No matter how graceful Luke Hemmings' dancing is, he is a complete pig when it comes to eating. Michael and Ashton nodded as they tried to force food into their mouths.
"Well... I got the part!" Luke cheered, a huge grin taking up his entire face.
"Wait, what?" Ashton asked, nearly choking on a french fry.
"That's awesome, Lucas!" Michael exclaimed, giving the blonde a lame high-five.
"Oh my god, that's great!" Ashton said as he pulled Luke into a bone-crushing hug and ruffled his hair.
"That's gay!" A random kid shouted as he passed by. Michael, Luke, and Ashton flipped them off, chuckling quietly.
"So you're the prince, right?" Ashton asked.
"Yes, for Cinderella," Luke rolled his eyes, "how original."
"The bright side is that I don't have to build that many props," Michael chimed in.
"Knowing Ms. Dupont she'll probably go all out again." Luke grimaced. A silence fell over them
as they remembered the excess amount of glitter used in last year's play. Luke ended up having glitter in his hair for an entire month and Ashton liked joking about how it was "sparkly dandruff." The blue eyed boy would then always say he was just "shedding his extra gayness."
Luke looked over Michael's shoulder and said, "I guess the football team is officially back together." Michael turned around and looked at the table that was surrounded by a bunch of blue jackets.
"Wow, just the right time for hell to officially open up!" Ashton sarcastically cheered and did a weak fist pump.
"Well maybe they've matured since last year, you never know," Michael hopefully mumbled.
Ashton raised an eyebrow at the blue haired boy, making Michael shrink back into his seat as if he was a child being scolded. "Not fucking likely," The curly haired boy growled as he glared at the table across from them. The snakes were suddenly whooping and hollering as if they had already won a tournament.
Michael looked at Ashton and to the other table and sighed, "I'm gonna go throw my food away, be right back." He then got out of his seat and carried his lunch tray to the trash can.
He had just thrown the last of his lunch away and was about to walk back to his table when something warm and wet was spilled onto his front. Tomato sauce soaked into his white t-shirt and noodles were just barely clinging to the fabric. Michael looked up in shock and was met with familiar brown eyes.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Calum's face contorted into a sneer, it seeming unnatural on his face. "Thanks for spilling my food, f-faggot," The boy mocked, but anyone who was watching could tell that he purposely dropped his food onto Michael. Calum walked away, with the football team cheering him on and slapping his back approvingly.
Michael was left in the middle of the cafeteria with tomato sauce dripping down his shirt that was almost as red as his humiliated face. He could hear people around him laughing and he knew that he should leave but it felt like his feet grew roots and he was stuck in place. The world became blurry and Michael couldn't tell if it was because of tears or just his mind fucking everything up. He felt a tug on both of his sleeves and suddenly he was being led out of the lunchroom. His mind didn't focus until he heard the sound of rushing water.
Is that... the ocean?
Michael turned his head and saw Luke soaking a paper towel in the sink. That was clearly not the ocean. The blonde started wiping spaghetti off of Michael's shirt which was obviously already stained. Ashton was pacing crazily around the room, muttering curse words under his breath. "Fucking snakes! I should've known he was one, he was wearing that fucking blue sweatshirt! I'm going to fucking kill him, that bitch!"
"Ashton, calm down," Luke whispered, afraid someone was going to come in while Ashton was still raging.
They must really regret shipping Michael and Calum together now.
"I'm going to kick that ching chong back to China! Or wherever he came from!" Ashton yelled, trying to prevent himself from putting a dent in the bathroom door.
"Hey, don't say that," Michael mumbled.
"I thought you were angry at Calum too," Ashton asked angrily, "Why are you defending him?"
"I'm not. It's just- that's racist," Michael shrugged.
"Oh... yeah, sorry." Ashton went quiet and looked down at his shoes. He then gave the blue haired boy his jacket, looking ashamed of himself. Michael put it on, glad he could have something to cover up his stained shirt. He looked like someone spilled period blood all over him.
Luke sighed, "I hate everyone."
"Tell me about it," Michael and Ashton said.