HURT

My name is Roseanne Martinez,but most people refer to me as Rose or Rosie. I was in love. Actually I still am. He never loved me back though. He was just another popstar,that likes to crush hearts. I should have seen through his perfect reputation. No one ever threw him hate. Even if he broke their hearts,they just pretended it was their fault. I don’t think I can do that. No,I won’t, I cannot! I will make a mess of his facade,I will make a mockery of him! He will not win this game. He picked the wrong player to knock down,now he WILL pay the price. I just wonder how long he will try to stay on top. I will be on top in the end. Or will I? Read on and find out!
A/N: This is sucky,sorry. I personally think the story is actually better. Please read it,it would mean a lot to me!

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25. Mikey

  I arrive exactly seven minutes later at the hospital, the road feeling all too familiar. I walk in, Dani having texted me to meet her in ICU when I get there. ICU is never good, and with how much I already have on my plate? Selfish, yeah, but I don't think I can handle anything else.

  I keep my walk pitifully slow as I turn into the ICU section, hands shaking as I ball them up against my thighs. Taking a deep breathe I prepare myself for the worst. I see Danielle in the corner, grinning like a fool. She seems perfectly fine, happy and healthy in the corner of the waiting room.

  "Da-" I start, but I'm cut off by her squealing and running over. 

  "Finally! You are so slow!" She whines even though I am punctual. "C'mon!" She insists and grabs my hand, prying my fingers loose and lacing mine with hers as she rushes to a room down the hall.I trudge after, terrified. 

  When we reach the door she mutters something and covers my eyes with her hands, and if I wasn't scared before now I am horrified, and riveted to know why all the crypiticness and secrecy.

  Her hands drop a few seconds later and so does my heart. The hospital room is filled with the boys, even Niall, and Perrie. The person laying on the bed is the one that shocks me the most, almost to the point of wondering if I am dreaming. 

  Laying under camo bedsheets and with his signature cocky, crooked smile is Mikey, my brother. Mikey has been in the military since my parents died when I was eighteen, five years. Occasionally, he pops home, but always leaves for some distant country with his stern face and cold hands. Judging from his posture and his widening smile I can already tell Mikey won't be going back to the military anytime soon, or ever.  

  "Wow, my baby sis sure did get gorgeous. Well, more so since I last saw you." He compliments, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the edges.

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