I'm Not Fine At All 》Michael Clifford

Chapter Four

Riley's POV:

Well, as it turns out, dad was locked out of the apartment for two hours while I "ran around doing nothing all day long". After an hour of screaming, and punishment that was sure to show up on my arm the next day, I went and made him dinner then went to my room. I layed out on my bed and put my hands over my face and cried.

This was a common occurrance, but it was still painful, both physically and emotionally. This was why my mother left when I was nine. She left and I hadn't heard from her since.

I sat up and, without thinking, took the note from my desk and dialed Michael's number into my phone. All I knew was I had to get out. Three rings later, it was answered.

"Hello?" He dragged out the 'o', and I realised that my number wasn't already in his phone, so he had no idea who was calling.

"Michael, it's Riley." I answered.

"Oh, hey Riley! What's up?"

"Not much. I need to ask you something."

"Riley? Are you okay?" He asked. He could hear the pain in my voice.

"I'm fine." I replied. "Could I maybe come hang with you for a while?" There was a long pause, and I was afraid that he'd say no, but was relieved when he answered,

"Yeah, the guys said it's cool. Do you want me to come get you?"

"That would be great." I breathed out.

"Okay, I'm on my way. Are you sure everything's fine?" He asked again, and I heard a door open and slam shut on the other end of the line.

"Well..." I didn't know what to tell him. He caught on to my hesitation.

"That's okay, we can talk when Iget there. I'll send you a text when I get there, okay?"

"Alright. Thanks, Michael."

"No problem." And with that we hung up.

Ten minutes later, and my phone went off. I looked and saw a text from Michael, saying that he was here. I grabbed my bag and phone, returned the text telling him that I was coming, and left my room. Dad was passed out on the couch, so I quickly scribbled down a note saying that I was at a friend's house, and grabbed my coat before leaving the apartment. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too angry if I left him a note.

I made it down the stairs and saw Michael standing in the lobby, three teenage girls standing around him chatting. I shook my head and walked up to him. He smiled at me, but it quickly turned to a look of concern when he saw my pained expression. He gently shooed the girls away and wrapped an arm over my shoulders, the same way he did when we left the coffee shop.

He gave me a look that was asking me 'what happened?' I just shook my head and looked down, and we left the building. It was half past six, and the sky was already dark. That's what winter is like in New York City. We walked side by side to his hotel, and I was thankful to make it into the lobby and out of the cold. We walked onto the elevator, and he pressed the 8 button. I felt the elevator move beneath me, and instantly latched onto Michael's arm. I didn't ever ride elevators, I always took the stairs. My apartment building didn't even have an elevator. Needless to say, I didn't do well with them.

Michael chuckled as we began the slow ride up, stopping for some reason or another at every floor. At the third floor, he broke the silence. "Riley, you can tell me. I won't judge you, or hurt you, I promise." He said. Something about the calmness and steadiness of his voice made me feel like it was okay to open up to him. Okay to tell him. At least a little.

I took a deep breath. "The man in the hall, when you walked me home," He nodded. "That was my dad. He's a little... umm... well, if things aren't done exactly how he wants them, or if I do something wrong, he's very serious about punishment..." I trailed off before slowly pulling my right jacket sleeve up and revealing the scarred, bruised skin on my hand and arm. "People who have noticed think I cut... but I don't. I don't do it to myself, he does. That's why my mother left when I was nine. He used to abuse her, but she ran away from it. But she left me to live with it. She didn't want me, and neither does my father." I felt a tear rolling down my face as he watched me. He gently wiped it away.

"Riley, I'm so sorry... I..." I cut him off.

"I'm fine. I have taken care of myself, and I... I... I'm fine." I said quietly as I wiped my own tears and cleaned my face of emotion. The elevator opened and we were exiting, walking down the hall toward the room he shared with his band.

We stopped in front of his door, and before he opened it, he abruptly took me into a hug. A full on... hug. I hadn't had a real hug since... who knew when? I was stiff, at first, but slowly I relaxed, and let my arms wrap around him. He was comforting, warm, and smelled like pizza and cologne. Yum, right? As strange at it was, it was a sweet smell. I burried my face in his shirt and we stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Finally, he let go and took my hand, before opening the door to the hotel room.

Inside, Calum and Luke camped out on the sofa playing COD and eating pizza, Ashton was nowhere to be seen. Michael made the two pause their game before introducing me. I stood awkwardly and shyly behind Michael as Calum stood and walked up to us.

He looked me up and down before turning to Michael. "The waitress?" He asked. I was surprised that he remembered me. Michael put a protective arm around me and nodded. "She's a keeper, mate." He winked. I blushed and looked at the floor as Michael punched Calum's arm. Calum just laughed and went back to the couch to finish his game with Luke.

"Where's Ash?" Michael asked them. The two boys, without looking up, pointed at a closed door at the same time, and Michael just nodded. "Alright then... come with me." Michael led me to a small kitchen and opened the pizza box on the counter. "Hungry?" I shook my head, but he raised an eyebrow and handed me a slice anyways. I just gave in and took a bite. It was good, and only then did I realize how hungry I was.

After that, we went back into the living room where Michael plopped down and joined in the COD game with Luke and Calum. I sat in the rocking chair, and watched, but soon lost interest. These boys literally sucked at this. My eyes began wandering around the hotel room, and landed on a Fender acoustic in a corner.

Very quietly, I stood and made my way over to it. Sitting down cross-legged on the carpet, I picked it up and admired the beauty in my hands. Quietly strumming a chord, the sound rung out beautifully and I sighed.

"You and I,
We don't wanna be like them,
We can make it till the end,
Nothing can come between
You and I,
Not even the gods above,
Can separate the two of us,
No, nothing can come between
You and I,
Oh, you and I"

I quietly sang the chorus to You And I by One Direction, just above a whisper. I loved the song, and the way it sounded on acoustic.

I sighed happily and looked up from the guitar to see three smiling boys staring at me, and turned bright red. They'd heard everything...