10 Years On ~ OSL Sequel.

Michael's P.O.V.

As I run up the stairs I can't stop grinning. I open the door to my - no make that our - bedroom. I can't believe I'm saying that! I pick out a plain black button up shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans from my wardrobe before heading to the bathroom. In the bathroom I pull a brush through my hair and brush my teeth. Then I run back into our room. I want to be as quick as possible so we can get to the meal, eat, talk and get back here. Our home. 

I as I yank the skinny jeans up my leg I think about Lexi in her skinny jeans and smiled to myself. I'd been so nervous about asking her to move into me I hadn't really paid that much attention to what I she was wearing. I buttoned up my shirt and squirted on some aftershave before finding my black converse from the back of the wardrobe. Tieing up the laces a memory entered my mind. 

**FLASHBACK** 

Three days after Lexi's 'death' and I still hadn't got any better. All I did was play guitar and sleep. I hardly touched my food and my PS3 hadn't been touched since that terrible day everybody wanted tp forget. 

I sighed and rolled over in my bed. I couldn't sleep. Sighing again I checked twitter, my mentions were full of people saying they were sorry and most people had changed their names to 'R.I.P LEXI'. It almost brought me to tears but I didn't have any left. 

Everything reminded me of her. Everything. In the morning when I wake up I would have to wake up and walk past the door to her bedroom. Countless nights I've peeked through the door to see if she was okay. I did the same yesterday, as if by instinct, I saw her empty bed. It wasn't made, nobody wanted to. It was like if they didn't make her bed she would come back somehow. We all knew that wasn't going to happen. 

When we were rehearsing I would often glance to the wings of the stage where she should of stood watching us. But she was no longer there. 

Near the end of the Take Me Home Tour and I still glanced to the wings. I still imagined her there. I still was dissapointed if she wasn't. 

Whenever we came off the stage the smiles would fall off our face when she wasn't there waiting for us with open arms. 

Seven years on and the band had split up. None of us had any effort to carry on on their own. I was tired of walking round the small town of where we lived and seeing all the memories we make together. All the memories we could of made together. I knew what I had to do. I had to get out of here. 

I was packing my bags while the tickets printed off when Liz walked through the door. She often made vistied all of us to see how we were doing. I guess it was her way of coping. 

"Where are you going Michael?" She asked as soon as she walked in. 

"Away." I bluntly replied as I packed more and more things into the large bag. 

She grabbed the paper from the printer before me. 

"LA?" She read out. 

I sighed impatiently and held my hand out. "Do you mind, the flight leaves in two hours." 

"You're running away? Do the boys know?" She reluctantly handed me the piece of paper. 

"No and no." I avoided eye contact with her harsh glare. 

"Why are you going then?" CAN SHE STOP ASKING QUESTIONS? 

"I just need a change of scenery for a bit." I zipped up the bag. 

"I don't see a return ticket." SHUT UP!

"Yeah, well maybe this is my way of coping with things." And with that I walked out the door.