Cake man Preg {DISCONTINUED}

Chapter five~aftershow surprises

Luke's PoV
   That night, I barely slept a wink. Instead, I spent the majority of the hot, stuffy night tossing and turning, trying to ignore the negative thoughts that battled in my brain, demanding to be heard. I just didn't want to hear them because they just told me the scary truth of what could happen to me.

They were going to find out sooner or later if I didn't get rid of it soon but I couldn't physically do it. Everytime I picked up my cell in my shaking hand, ready to dial the number to the clinic to book the appointment to get rid of it, I dropped the phone, resisting the urge to throw it across the room.

I didn't know why I felt this way. I should want to get rid of it, it wasn't normal. It could ruin my career, the band, my friendships and even my already damaged relationship with Calum. Having this baby would mean risking everything. I had never even considered having a baby before, it was never an idea that appealed to me.

But the thought of anybody hurting the thing growing in my stomach filled me with anger. Because it was mine and it was my job to protect it from harm whilst it was lying inside of me.

So I still hadn't made the call, loosing the nerve to every time I tried to pick up the phone, even though I was aware that time was running out. Abortions could not be carried out once you were a few months into your pregnancy and the boys were already close to figuring it out, particularly Ashton. If I kept it, it was only a matter of time before they would see the bump that was sure to grow. They would notice my changing mood and the fact that I would have to buy stuff for the baby if I did decide to keep it wouldn't go unnoticed.

Wait, was I really thinking about what would happen if I kept the baby? I couldn't, I couldn't do it alone and once Calum found out, he would leave. It wasn't normal for a man to carry a baby, everyone knew that. There was a reason they only talked about female pregnancies in biology at school. That's because man pregnancies were unheard of, as far as people were concerned, they were unreal. As soon as people found out about me, the first man preg ever, it would spread through the tabloids like wildfire and there would be nothing I could do to stop it.

I shivered slightly at the thought as I glanced at myself in the mirror, I was stood sideways on as I stared self consciously at my bump, which thankfully was still small enough to be swallowed and concealed under my nirvana tee. It was only a matter of time though. I had made up my mind, I had to get rid of it.

Tears pricked at my eyes at this very thought but I knew it was the right thing to do. I couldn't give my baby what it needed, I would be a nineteen year old single parent. I know a lot people managed it but I couldn't. I would suck at fartherhood, I could  tell now.

I picked up my phone from the side, dialling in the number I knew off by heart by now. But I only got to the third number before caving in and throwing my phone carelessly on my bed. I didn't want to loose my baby just yet, perhaps I could keep it one more day and wait until tommorow.

I sighed at my appearance, negative thoughts swarming my head and they wouldn't go away or stop telling me horrible things like freak. I shook my head, tears burning at my eyes. My depression was slowly but surely coming back, a little bit everyday ever since Calum cheated. He alone could make the depression and the awful, taunting voices go away but I was to afraid to ask. He owed me nothing and he had no reason to help me now he was finally free of me.

But despite this, I found myself walking in the direction of the living room where the others were all enjoying their pleasant afternoons, the only worries in their minds were pre-show nerves or what we were going to get for tea.

I wish that was all I had to worry about.

I stood in the doorway, debating whether or not to go in. They knew by now that something was desperately wrong with me and I wasn't in the mood to be questioned by them. But staying on my own wasn't an option, unless I wanted to do something I would regret.