Blues skies seem to stretch on for miles across the Toronto horizon but all you really want is a thundering, loud storm to rain on your parade. Maybe you’re being a little bit stubborn and stubborn, feeling sorry for yourself and all, but you can’t help it. Michael had flown you out to spend time with you, yet the only time he’d actually been able to talk to you was at one in the morning last night, conversing in hushed whispers in the front of the bus as to not wake the boys. Of course, you expected not being able to spend every waking minute with your best friend, but you also didn’t think wanting more than a few casual “hi” & “bye”’s from your him was too much to ask for.
You’d been on the road with the boys for about three days now and you only had a little over a week left. So far, you’d seen more industrial interview spaces, cock-roach infested backstage rooms, and empty arena stages than you’d ever wanted to see in your whole life. However, you tried not to complain. You knew without a doubt that if you told Mikey just how you’d felt, he’d literally do anything and everything to be with you; dragging himself further into exhaustion than he’d already sunk and you didn’t want that. You decided you’d just have to appreciate your best friend from afar, no matter how much it sucked.
Currently, you found yourself trailing after the boys into a radio building with some stray members of their promo crew, another interview waiting for them on the inside. They were eagerly greeting fans, trying to at least wave to all of them that’d been waiting in the frigid cold air for countless hours. A few of the fans recognized you and enthusiastically motioned you over. You knew the drill by now; happy smiling faces asking for a picture, sometimes a shy question of “Can you give this to the boys? I spend hours working on it…” before handing you a piece of intricate artwork or a scrapbook or something along those lines. You supposed it kinda came with the territory now.
Deciding you were finished with the screaming at the moment, you made your way inside and leaned against the glass window panes by the entrance, staring at Mikey interacting with the girls outside; all parties involved smiling brightly and happily.
“You know, he’s been talking about you coming for ages.”
You glanced to your side where the boy’s stylist, Kelsey, had joined you, smiling. “Yeah, I’ve been really excited to see Mikey, too.”
She chuckled before remarking, “I don’t think you understand, Y/N. He’s not shut up about you for nearly a week.” The blonde smiled down at her sweater while snapping a stray thread off the bottom. “Wouldn’t all be surprised if he was in love with you.”
Your eyes widened and mouth gaped, but you kept your eyes trained on your best friend interacting with the beautiful Canadian fans. “I don’t stand a chance against all those other girls,” you breathed again the glass, your words fogging up the clear surface.
Kelsey rolled her eyes before crossed her arms and shooting you an incredulous look. “Yes you do. He only looks at you, even when all those other girls are around.”
You huffed, finally turning to face their stylist completely, continuing adamantly, “No he doesn’t. That’s impossible. He’d never go for a girl like me.”
The blonde stared defiantly at you. ““Would I lie to you?” She waited a beat and continued when you didn’t answer her. “No, I wouldn’t. I see him do it all the time. He doesn’t want any other girls,” she cast her eyes towards the entrance of the building, watching the boys be ushered in. “He wants you.”
You bit your lip, watching as she joined a few other crew members and Michael made his way over to you. You observed him closely, trying to decipher whether the twinkle in his eye when he was looking at you was from the glint of the windows or a reflection of his feelings.
“Y/N!” he greeted, throwing his arms around you and steering you towards the boys, his hand dangling over your shoulder, prompting you to wrap it in yours. Michael shot you a goofy smile before making a comment about some album that was hanging on the wall of the radio station, his attention completely on you and you alone. You didn’t miss the sly smile Kelsey threw your way as he pouted when their manager prompted the two of you to separate and realized, maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t completely one-sided.
“That Little Part Of Life That’s Not Defined By Numbers” | Some people call it love, some people call it god, some people just call it the x-factor. But we all know there’s some things in life money just can’t buy, scientists cant measure, fakers cant fake. It could be a place, or maybe its a person, for some its simply a state of mind. But when you’re there you’re there and the only things that exist in that moment are the things that truly matter. Be present. The Leslie Spit, 2014.