Kiss Me

Michael woke with a pounding in his head, and a wretched taste coating his mouth. He always hated the aftermath of what he does, but he has to be perfect. Sliding out of bed he groaned at the increasing pain in his head. It was always hard for him after purging though today it was even worse. He had to perform today, with his band 5 Seconds Of Summer. Michael always loved going on stage it washed away his insecurities, his fears, and all the things that held him down. Although it was one of his fears this morning.

They had a meet and greet. Thirty excited, curious, fans. The fans would be able to tell he wasn't feeling so hot today, they always did. Michael sighed, it was so much easier when it was just friends he had to impress. Running his hands through his cotton candy hair he rummaged through the pile of clothes on his floor. He finally decided on his def leppard tank, and some black skinny jeans. Black is slimming. He kept repeating to himself as he stared blankly at the disgusting kid he saw in the mirror.

"Mike come on we're going to be late!" Luke yelled up the stairs, and Michael smiled. They had to rush now and no one would question him not eating. Running down the stairs Michael grabbed a beanie and chased after Luke. When he caught up to Luke he was panting, trying desperately to catch his breath.

“H- here!” Michael stumbled on the words still breathless. He always seemed to have less energy now a days. Forcing a smile to Luke he jumped into the van with his other friend Ashton. When he sat down he could feel Ashton's eyes burning holes into his back. Why was he so suspicious all of a sudden?

"What?" Michael asked rather sharply, he didn't mean to be rude towards Ashton, but the pounding in his head was making him agitated.

"Dude your breath is awful!" Micheal's eyes went wide, if Ashton questioned him. He'd know something was wrong, he couldn't explain himself, anything he'd say would make him look guilty.

"Umm, yeah sorry." Ashton just smiled and turned around to talk to Luke, likely to get from Michael and his disgusting breath. Michael didn't blame him everything about him was disgusting. Sighing Michael just sat back relishing in the lingering silence, and waiting for the ride to be over. Before long they had picked up Calum and were finally on the way to the meet and greet. Michael was hanging back, trying to avoid them all. It was working until the van came to a stop and they were at the venue, they were minutes away from meeting fans. Micheal's heart pounded as they piled out of the van. Ashton tossed him some gum muttering about him being gross, Michael laughed. Yet he wanted to cry.

Once they were in the “formal hangout” room, as their manager called it, fans started flooding in. Despite Micheal's growing fear he was smiling. Performing was something that kept him alive, and these fans might just appreciate him. As time went on fans lingered around Luke swarming him with gifts, hugs, picture requests, marriage proposals, they ran to Ashton bearing the same attention as with Luke. Some wandered towards Calum, and none came to Michael. He was left alone. Per usual Michael had been forgotten, he blamed it on the others being more conversational, but he knew the real reason.

He wasn't good looking like the others. He was disgusting, gross, and ugly. The rest of the guys a perfect weight, perfect eyes, no one ever called them out for being anything but perfect. Michael was the complete opposite, and while his mates tried to cover it, with bringing him along he knew the truth. It was plastered through out discussion boards, YouTube videos, tumblr posts, twitter, everywhere. Michael is so awkward. Why is he so fat? Does he realize how stupid that hair looks? What does he even do? God Micheal's face is so ugly. Do you know how to spell ugly? M-I-C-H-A-E-L. Aha faggot. He's so ugly. Why are they even friends with him? Micheal's eyes were starting to water.

Any of these fans could be the very ones telling him how worthless he was. Sniffling to prevent a meltdown Michael got up to leave. When he was about to bolt out the door he felt a faint grip on his arm. He turned around to see a girl with watery eyes, her hands shaking. He smiled at her, relived he wasn't completely forgotten. She returned the smile with a broken one of her own, and Michael couldn't help but wonder if she had come to him because Luke was swimming in fans. She pulled him over to a corner of the room leaving them alone,

“Hey I'm Violet.” She breathed out shakily, her whole body shaking with her words. It made Michael uncomfortable, he had never been around someone so emotional to see him.

“Hey Violet. I-I'm Michael.” She smiled and told him she knew who he was clearly. He laughed nervously, he didn't know how to carry a conversation.

“You don't need to do this to yourself you know.” She stared into his green eyes searching, hoping, for a sign of recognition. His heart was pounding. His palms started sweating, he knew someone would snoop him out. He should've known, but how could he?

“What do you- what are you talking about?” His words were mixing together, his eyes were wide. Every nightmare he had of being found out were coming true. This girl found out, she could see it on his face, written across his forehead Hey I'm bulimic! I purge!

“Not eating. Purging after you eat, you're better than that. Trust me this thing doesn't help you, it destroys you.” Michael kept backing up from the girl, his face burning. He didn't need some girl telling him not to help himself. He could do what he wanted. Who cared if he was killing himself? He certainly didn't.

“You don't know me.” He muttered, eyes wide with fear. She smiled sadly, her eyes clouding over.

“Oh but I do. My sister was like you. Just like you.” She whispered and Michael wanted to scream, she didn't know him at all.

“I'm sorry but I'm not your sister.” He backed up and felt his back hit the cold glass, he fumbled for the handle looking the girl in the eyes. Violet's eyes started watering, she was sniffling, just as he had been moments before. She latched on his wrist, her eyes boring holes into his.

“You're just like her. Lonely and confused.” She kept whispered as her thumb traced scars she wouldn't find on his wrist. He wanted to pull away, he wanted Violet to keep the things he already knew to herself. The truth is hard to face, and he didn't want to face it anytime soon. She stood on her toes placing a kiss to Michael's cheek and whispered in his ear

“Please find me after the show.” She got back on her feet, flashing a smile that didn't register any of the conversation they had just held. She asked for a picture and Michael complied, shaken, but he wanted to know more. He told Violet to meet him at the tour bus after the show. She smiled and wiped her eyes, walking away she threw him a brownie and mouthed eat. He smiled at her until she left, when he knew she was gone he threw the brownie away and left to get ready for the show.
* * * *
The show was terribly terrific. Michael got the crowd riled up with his screams. Funny how he did it to let out depression and the fans thought it was cool. Then halfway through the set he saw her. Violet was swaying to the rhythm, her pastel purple hair blinding under the stage lights. Before Michael knew it Violet was front barricade, and he was missing his parts.

“Want to play Mike?” Luke was laughing as Michael fumbled to think properly.

“Actually I'd like to do a song.” His heart pounded competing with the clamor of Ashton's drums. Luke obliged nervously. Michael's fingers were so sweaty they could barley hold down the guitar strings. He looked into the crowd to see Violet he let out a breath, and gave his heart to Violet and the crowd.

“Have you ever took a blade to wrists? Have you been skipping meals?” He screamed his heart out, the whole venue silent. None cheered as they did when the others sang, Violet's tear coated voice was the only he heard.

“TONIGHT!” She shouted over the girls who'd taken up screaming Luke's name. He nodded to her, and her face glowed. Michael was silent the rest of the set, and rushed off the stage as Luke say goodbye to the audience.

Now here he was. Trying to run, out of breath with no energy, to their tour bus. He had to get there before the rest of the guys or they'd question who Violet was, and how could he explain? Hey this girl knows I'm bulimic and she's going to help me. That'd go over great considering no one knew. So he ran faster till his legs felt like the muscles had been ripped apart. He reached the bus and collapsed onto Violet who had somehow gotten there before him. He laid in her arms catching his breath, his lungs burning from the short run. She was fixing his hair and whispering in his ear,

“It's the bulimia's fault. This is what it does to you.” The words burned like acid, he didn't want to hear them. His eating was helping him be perfect. For the fans, for his friends, and for Luke. He needed to do this. He sat up with a sharp breath and led Violet to his bunk. He watched as she sat down, pulling her sleeves over her hands. Violet opened her mouth to speak, and closed it again. She didn't know how to tell a boy she never met that she knew everything about him.

“What did you want to tell me?” Michael asked curiously, eying her sleeve covered wrists.

“You knew my sister. She was just like you, beautiful, destroyed by the people who didn't know her.” Her words were knives, they stabbed his heart with every tear that rolled down her porcelain cheek.

“I don't know her. I'm not like her! I'm not 'beautiful' I never have and I never will be.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, She'd never understand. Violet showed him a picture of her sister, and his throat closed. She was the counselor that picked Michael out. Insisting he had a problem, he denied and ignored her. She since had never been back, and now Michael wondered if he had something to do with it.

“Listen to me Michael! I know how this kills you, please let me help you.” She grabbed his hand, staring into his eyes it was Michael's turn to cry. His eyes stung with tears, he wiped them with the back of his hand.

“I-I don't understand. Why do you even care about me?” His voice was shaking and he couldn't bring himself to care.

“I don't want to lose you too.” She whispered, still holding his hand. His mouth quivered with invisible tears. No one ever really cares. She just wants to be close to the band. Michael's mind was screaming, tearing down every word Violet said.

“You mean it?”

“I do.” Violet breathed, gently placing a kiss on Michael's lips. She pulled away softly stroking Michael's chin. As she pulled away the bus door slammed open, the guys spilling in cheering. When their eyes landed on Michael and Violet they went silent.
Michael's cheeks were raw from tears, his breath still coming out in shallow puffs. His eyes rimmed with red, Violet's hand still enclosing Michael's. They must of looked so strange, Violet's hair sweaty from the crowd, her eyes much like Michael's were rimmed with red. As Luke and the boys stared Michael and Violet started to laugh. They were two strangers thrown together by a disorder, one that none of their friends could know about.

“Who's the chick?” Luke asked pointing towards Violet. Violet stared at Michael her eyes begging not to tell of their conversation. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing shallowly,

“This is Violet, She's a friend.” Violet smiled

“A very close friend.” Violet winked at Michael keeping the secret between them. Luke and the boys accepted it and moved into the back of the bus, likely to play FIFA. When they were gone Violet said she had to leave, her mother expecting her, handing Michael her number she patted his hand and walked out the door.

Michael sighed falling back onto his bunk. His eyes stinging once again, one thought was screaming louder than the rest,

Who are you Violet?