Outside the Lines (lashton)

(6) 64.8

Michael and Ashton had sat themselves in the middle row in the car. Neither attempted to make conversation with one another. I crawled into the back row with Calum following behind me.

"Lay down, you need the rest," Calum told me.

I mumbled a few words that in all honesty, I didn't even understand. Instead of repeating myself clearly, I toppled down in exhaustion, and rested my head in Calum's lap.

"Oh my god, is he sleeping already?"

I felt Calum lean down, his hair brushing against my forehead. "Yeah, sounds like it." He replied with a small laugh.

"Then we can discuss this now, yeah?" Ashton said, finally acknowledging the rest of the cars presence.

"He's not dehydrated," Michael blurt out.

I felt Calum shift, then heard him speak. "He could be. His lips are chapped, and his face is dry." I felt his hand brush past my hair by accident but it soon found its way back to my head. "And his hair is really dry, but that's most likely from the hair product."

"But he is drinking water, Cal. We've seen him drink plenty of water," Ashton added on.

"If he's hydrated, then he shouldn't be passing out..." Michael somberly replied.

Silence draped the vehicle for a few centuries before someone spoke again.

Okay fine, it was a few seconds. But it felt like centuries.

"He needs to be checked out."

"He won't agree to go. He despises doctors offices, you know that."

"Does it matter? There's obviously something wrong."

"He's told us that he's not going to a medical facility to have some doctor poke and prod him. We can't drag him there, Mike."

"Are you even listening to yourself right now? You're telling me that Luke will refuse to see a doctor, and you're okay with him deciding that for himself? You even said so yourself that something's wrong!"

"Don't put words in my mouth, you said that. And what if it is nothing?"

"Are you willing to risk your best friends health because it's probably nothing? He isn't going to go by his own will Calum, someone has to force the guy to get checked out."

Before Calum could respond, a meek voice made its way from the curly haired boy. "Can we just, not, please? Not talk about this right now. Not tonight."

Michael started to rant about how this was too important and how Ashton was the one who started the conversation, but stopped trying when he heard a weak "please Michael, please," come from the boy beside him.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the hotel. The entrance was nearly empty, most likely because fans were still attending the concert. Michael and Ashton slumped out of their seats, while Calum picked me up with a grunt.

Sorry I'm fat.

I should ask him to put me down so I can walk myself.

Despite these thoughts, I let myself be carried through the lobby by Calum. My body and brain were barely functioning at this point from the exhaustion of the day.

Calum carried me into a wide elevator across the lobby. While the doors rolled shut, someone ruffled my hair.

It was a simple action, ruffling someone's hair. But in that moment, it wasn't just a simple meaningless action. If the gesture could talk for itself, it would whisper to me, 'Hey, I know all of this is new to you. That may have you terrified; the thought of having everyone figure out what you've been hiding. But no matter what happens, it'll be okay in the end. No need to worry right now, just rest.'

The action was a silent reassurance: all will be okay eventually.

How long that eventually make take is unknown, but that didn't stop me from feeling safe enough to let go of control.

Well, for the night at least.