5SOS Sickfics

Luke's Little Holiday

Hehehehe
Hopefully you'll understand the title soon. It was either this or Amnesia, I went for this.
Request for MikerowavesBabe
With inspiration from Relient K's 'Be My Escape' each section has a line from the song that I wrote the section based on, it might not make sense to you guys, but for some reason it sure as hell makes sense to me.
xx

Luke's POV:
I know to live you must give your life away

I was rocking out on stage during sound check, with my eyes screwed shut and my fingers working against the strings at lightning speed. The lights shining down on me whilst I played my favourite guitar solo: Out Of My Limit. When the song had finished, I jumped, in complete synchronisation with Michael and Calum, onto the little boxes that were by Ashton's drum kit.

"Excellent! Bravo!" Our stage director yells, clapping his hands like crazy and going red with pride. "Do it like that on stage later, and I'll take you lads for beers after! All on me!" We grin and walk off stage; I hear the familiar clatter of Ashton's drum sticks on the floor and his drum tech tutting as he went to pick them up.

"Let's play a rockin' show tonight!" Michael slapped me on the back. Good times.

-
The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair

I sang the last line of the song and ran up to the jump. I turned my head to grin at Michael like I always do, but this time I misjudged my step. I tumbled to the ground, hitting my arm on the edge of the raised platform. My head caught the top of Ashton's bass drum, and before I could make a noise, blackness consumed me.

-
I am a hostage to my own humanity

I woke hours later, on my side in a hotel bed. A dark haired boy was holding me up, so I didn't roll onto my back. I moaned as someone rubbed my shoulder, I didn't want to wake up right now.

"Hey... Hey, Lukey?" Another person, this time with honey-coloured hair, rubbed my shoulder and I moaned in response. "Speak to me buddy. Tell me about you."

I'm giving up on giving up slowly

I sat up, rubbing my eyes in a child-like fashion. "What's going on?" Some scary dude with metal in his ears and his eyebrow touches me on the forehead, as if feeling for a temperature. "Get off of me!" I burst, swatting his hand away. The world is closing in around me, if anyone else touches me I might just cry. Honey Boy puts his hand on my chest to signal to me to calm my rapid breathing. "Don't touch me!" I scream, I'm confused. Who the hell are these people? "I don't know you, why are you touching me?! What happened?"

"Hey, you're gonna be okay, you'll remember in a bit... The nurse said we should talk to you, about ourselves." I nod slowly. He stretches out his hand as if motioning for me to shake it. I grasp his hand awkwardly. "I'm Ashton, I play the drums in a band with you. This is Calum," Dark Boy waves cheerfully. "He plays bass. That's Michael," Scary Dude nods at me and smiles. He's not so scary now he's smiling. Actually he looks like a complete dork.

"Pika! Pika!" He flaps his arms around as he greets me. That sounded familiar.

"Pokémon!" You- you like Pokémon!" I point excitedly. "And you!" I turn to Calum. "You like the green game!"

"Fifa?" His voice is smooth but perky. Is that possible?

"Yeah! And um..." I look at Ashton. We're still holding hands. "You can't see, so you don't like the green game."

"That's right, buddy. I'm partially blind, so it annoys me. Tell me, what do you like?"

"I like you guys, but all I know is that you like those games..." I feel bad for not knowing about them. Why do they care so much about me? "Wha- what's going on?"

"You fell on stage buddy, playing guitar," Michael sighs deeply.

Blending in so you won't even know me

That's it. That's when it all comes flooding back to me. The music, the fans, my name, my family, my guitar, the drums, the videos, the keeks, the tweets, the fanfictions that haunt me, the covers, the love, the warmth of my tour bus bunk, the clucking of Michael's many gaming controllers, Calum's experimental Usher guitar playing late at night, Ashton's tendency to come and check up on me every ten minutes if I'm quiet or down or homesick or ill.

I've been housing all this doubt, and insecurity

Then comes the hate, the bad comments, the death threats, the suffocating effort of repressing bad memories, drowning in a sea of discomfort and depression and whirlpools of anxiety. Had I really been trapped in this horrible place for so long that I could not remember how to be happy?

I've been locked inside that house for a while, you hold the keys now

I burst into tears.

Arms are around me, hugging me and holding me tight and telling me that they love me, but I don't want that. I want to push them off and out of the room, then have my breakdown my way, alone in this clinically depressing room.

I writhe and scream, kick and punch until all the boys are stood in a triangle around my bed, looking cross and unhappy.

"We just tried to help you," Calum says. Then they turn, and they are gone.

I've been dying to get out,
And it might be the death of me,
But even though there's no way of knowing where to go
I promise I'm going because
I gotta get outta here
I'm stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake
I gotta get outta here,
And I'm begging you, I'm begging you, I'm begging you to
Be my escape

-

All I was trying to do was save my own skin, but so were you

(so were you)