REHAB [5SOS]

REVELATIONS

REVELATIONS

Luke

Luke never wanted Michael to see what was in his notebook.

He knew he'd make fun of him. Not that it'd be anything new, but still, Luke liked the idea of keeping some dignity.

Once, Michael had tried to find his notebook, but Luke had taken it with him to the rec room.

Because, in the notebook, Luke wrote songs.

It was part of his therapy to sort out emotions by writing them out. But Luke had never been much of a writer, and he'd found his own alternative.

His lyrics were his thoughts.

He was pretty proud of some of them, too. Many of the lyrics had been crossed out and revised numerous times, until he copied the final version he was satisfied with on a blank page.

If Michael ever saw the lyrics, he'd die, because Luke hadn't done a very good job of hiding the fact that some of the songs were about Michael.

He didn't like Michael like that, not at all, but still, he'd found himself writing songs about him. Not love songs, but the way Michael made him feel served as good inspiration.

Michael was mean to Luke, there wasn't any other way to put it. Michael was rude, sarcastic and biting when he talked to Luke. He never respected him as a roommate and often treated him like a servant.

But yet...

Luke still liked Michael. Luke still liked hanging out with him because when Michael wasn't being a total asshole, Michael was really funny.

He never knew how to feel.

"Hey, Lucas, get your ass over here."

Luke jumped and slammed his notebook shut, shoving it between his mattress and the wall. He looked up just as Michael walked in, looking frustrated.

"Looks like you got your ass over here," Luke said.

Michael flopped down onto his bed and groaned into his pillow. "I'm not in the mood, Hemmings. Not in the fucking mood."

"When are you ever?" Luke muttered under his breath, itching to get back to writing. He'd been in the middle of a really great chorus.

Michael sat up and raised an eyebrow at him. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he said hastily.

Michael's eyes dropped, and a grin spread across his face. "Hey, why won't you tell me what's in your notebook?"

Luke looked down and blanched. In his haste, he hadn't managed to completely conceal his notebook. A small black corner peeked out and betrayed him. "Fuck," he breathed, looking at Michael.

"Come on-"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"What, do you write love poems in there or something?"

Luke's voice shook. "No-"

Michael didn't miss his hesitation. "So you do! You have a crush on one of the girls! Who?" he asked, getting up and lunging for the book.

Luke pressed himself against the wall, covering the book. "No one," he whispered, staring at Michael with wide, fearful eyes.

Michael's eyes widened. "Is it a girl you're writing about? It is, right?"

Luke unconsciously licked his lips and tried to say "no" but nothing came out. He cleared his throat and squeaked, "I-"

"Oh." Michael, suddenly realizing how close he was to his friend, abruptly moved away from Luke. "Oh, my bad. Shit, sorry, I-"

"It's not like that," Luke whispered, but his voice sounded weak to his own ears.

Michael winked. "I'm irresistible, aren't I?"

Luke laughed breathlessly. "Hardly," he said. "You're the most repellant person I've ever met."

Michael smirked. "Explains why you're writing poems about me."

Luke's mouth dropped open. "I am not writing poems about you!"

"Whatever you say, Hemmings," he said, grinning one last time before sauntering out of their room.

Luke grabbed his pillow, shoved it into his legs and buried his face in it, biting the fabric and trying not to scream.

Of course Michael would make that assumption. Why was he so bad under pressure?

It wasn't like he was writing those songs about Michael.

Right?

-

"Calum?"

Calum looked up and saw Zayn standing in the doorway. "Hi."

Zayn sat on his bed and looked at Calum for a while before saying, "Rose isn't coming back."

Calum's heart dropped. "What?"

"Rose isn't coming back here. They weren't... she wasn't being helped here. They're moving her. Another rehab facility," Zayn said. "They... she... I... here," he said, holding out a crumpled envelope.

Calum took the envelope and opened it with shaking fingers. He unfolded the piece of paper and began to read:

Calum,

Well, this is it, I guess. We only knew each other for a short time, but I just... yeah. I wanted to say thank you, I guess, because even though I'm pretty messed up, you made me feel pretty, sometimes. And that was more times than I ever felt in my entire life.

The rehab that I was at, that you're at now, wasn't helping, though. Because I didn't really want to get better. But they told me how much I hurt you guys, and I don't want to hurt you guys anymore. You and Hazelle and Harry were the best friends I could have asked for.

I'm starting fresh, starting new, and I promise I'm going to make progress this time. It's gonna be hard but, I'll do it. Next time you see me, I promise I'll be healthy.

Much love,

Rose

Calum stared at the letter, rereading it over and over until he had it practically memorized.

"She's not coming back," Calum whispered, looking up at Zayn.

Zayn shook his head. "No. She's not."

Calum rubbed the back of his neck. "At least it's better for her, this way," he said quietly.

Zayn nodded, not one for comforting.

Calum sighed and tucked the letter into his pocket.

Rose was beautiful. Sick, broken, hurting, yes, but he'd never seen her more beautiful than in that letter. It was beautiful that she was trying. It was encouraging. She was doing it.

He smiled to himself.

He was happy for her.