That’s a fun question, one that I’m sure nobody really wants the answer to anymore considering I’ve been gone for years but oh well.
I disappeared in 2016 after my GCSEs, moved onto a different fandom and wrote different fanfics because I just… idk, there was so much drama in this fandom back then, I fell out of love with being a fan of 5sos. I’m not a fan of them anymore and haven’t been since 2016, but I will say their Youngblood album has some bangers.
I’m a very different person to who I was when I was 15/16 and running this blog, and honestly it amazes me that this blog got so popular because bloody hell I would have found myself way too annoying to deal with if I was somebody else. 15-year-old me was not a good version of myself, and I’m sorry for everyone who had to deal with her because I wouldn’t have stood for it.
Most of the people I used to talk to have deleted their blogs, including Annya. I wonder what they’re all up to, if they’re okay. I hope they are.It makes me feel so weird that this was literally my whole life and now it’s so insignificant to me that I barely think about it. So much can change in two/three years.
And so much has changed - I want to say I’m a completely different person but unfortunately I can still pick out similar things between 18-year-old me (Yeah, I’m 18 now, shock horror) and 15-year-old me. Luckily I can write a whole load better and I’m more mature now, I was able to realise that my foolish ideas of how my life would be just weren’t realistic. I thought that I’d move out and live with Annya and continue to be on this blog for ages and marry Michael Clifford or whatever, it’s stupid. My ideas and opinions and perception of the world has changed a lot. I’m not even friends with Annya anymore, we fell out last year. Indie and Annya aren’t even our real names.
I wasn’t happy back then, and honestly I’m still not 100% but my life is looking up for the better. Depression is still a bitch, but I’ve got my shit together and I have a life plan now which may or may not work out, but oh well. I can handle it.
Thank you for asking anon, and thank you to everyone who sees this who remembers me and liked my content back then. Not sure why you did, but thanks haha.
Anyways, this is the end of this blog. I’m not gonna delete it just quite yet though (bc it’s useful to have a dead blog to send posts you don’t want to lose to), just wanted to officially say that I’m doing better, just in case anyone ever looks back and wonders. Also if you see me anywhere after this… this blog never existed, 15-year-old ‘Indie’ is dead lmao. I refuse to accept that we are the same person.
I hope you all have wonderful lives, and find happiness somewhere, anywhere.
The music department at your school was quiet, unlike during the school day, and only the soothing sounds of the piano could be heard bouncing off the white walls and the occasional duff note, followed by an “Ugh fuck!”
Most people would find it a calming place to be (despite the duff notes and swearing), however frustration seeped through you as you tried and failed to perfect the song you were trying to learn.
You wanted to play it in the talent show, which would be attended by various scouts, one in particular willing to offer one lucky student a scholarship into the Royal College of Performing Arts that you’d had your eye on for a while.
“Oh my god, why do I suck?!” You groaned in frustration, slamming the lid of the piano shut and grabbing your bag from its place by your feet, before storming out of the music department to make your way back home.
You’d been staying late at school for the past week as you tried to find the perfect song to play, however you just couldn’t seem to find a song that sounded right, or that you could play the whole way through without fucking up.
You scoffed as you continued walking. How had you not found a song to play yet? You’d been playing piano for years, surely there was something you could play…
Hopefully.
You huffed as you felt rain start to drop onto you and tugged at your hood, cursing yourself for not bothering to bring your umbrella to school that morning as rain fell onto you. “Typical” you grumbled “Absolutely fucking typical”
Normally you loved the rain, enjoyed the noise of it hitting the pavement and the smell that it brought, however today you just could not be bothered to deal with wet clothes and rainwater hair.
At least it’s not dirty.
But that thought didn’t last long when a car drove really fast through a mud-filled puddle next to the pavement, splashing you and getting mud all over you, including on your face and in your hair.
Your eyes were scrunched shut and you had stopped in your tracks, let out an ‘Oh. My. God’ before you slowly wiped your eyes and opened them, looking down at your disgusting clothes.
I just want to be in bed, is that too much to ask?!
After a shower, you were lying in your bed, snuggled up under every blanket you could find as it was freezing in your room. You were scrolling Facebook, something you tried not to make a habit of but you did anyway. You were about to exit the app when a post caught your eye.
The post was posted by the 5 Seconds of Summer page that four boys from your school - Michael Clifford, Calum Hood, Luke Hemmings and Ashton Irwin - had set up and named after their band, which had become quite a hit amongst the pupils that walk the hallways of Tyedraw High. You liked their music, you can’t deny that, but then again their music wasn’t the reason why you rolled your eyes and let out a disgusted huff.
It was the lead guitarist, Michael Clifford, with his green eyes and bright blue hair, cocky smirk and jerk-like personality. Of course, he was one of the populars, he fit right into that category, but even if he wasn’t he’d still be as rude and judgemental, you assumed.
You clicked on the video that the post contained and started to watch, gripped instantly by the new song that was called ‘Jet Black Heart’.
You hated how good they were and you hated that you liked their music; you didn’t feel you should support people as rude as them, but you couldn’t help but love the songs that flowed into your ears, or the new wave of motivation which hit you when you’d heard their song.
You got off your bed and made your way to your piano, pulling up the lid and sitting on the stall. You randomly pressed a few keys with your fingers as you tried to think of a song you knew but hadn’t tried yet.
You ran thought ideas in your head, pressing random keys as you went, but nothing seemed to work for you. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t find a song to play out of the tonnes you knew, and it was making you rather cross; you didn’t have the time, you needed to be able to sound perfect for the talent show.
Frustration coursed through you and you sighed, giving up for the second time that day. You got up and walked to your bed before flopping onto it and screaming into your pillow which muffled the high-pitched noise. Tears started to form as you turned your head to the side, letting your eyes wonder back down to your phone where the Jet Black Heart video was still displayed, paused on a shot of Michael, unfortunately.
You huffed and reached out to exit the video, but stopped.
What if I played Jet Black Heart?
You liked the song – there was no denying that – and you were pretty sure you could transfer it to piano. You slid the time bar back to the beginning of the song and tapped the play button again, letting the song fill your ears. Halfway through, you wondered over to your piano and started to press certain keys, figuring out how to play the tune.
A smile worked its way onto your face as you started to put together a basic piano version of the song, before a frown took over it.
What if they don’t want me to play their song? What if they make fun of me? Can I afford anymore hate?
But it was the only choice you had; you didn’t have enough time to dwell over songs whilst wrapped up in a pile of blankets and drinking hot chocolate.
With the thought of the Performing Arts scout planted firmly in your mind, you got to work on converting Jet Black Heart onto piano.
You had been practising Jet Black Heart a lot, and you’d nearly nailed it – there were just a few notes here and there that didn’t sound quite right, but you were sure you’d be able to fix it by the end of the week.
You were at school again, playing the song for what felt like the billionth time when there was a knock on the door and your music teacher poked his head in. “Ah Myrena, I need to talk to you” you turned on your piano stall and looked at your teacher expectantly, sighing when he gestured for you to follow him. You stood and walked out of the room, letting your teacher lead you to his classroom at the end of the hall, regretting it when you saw who was in there.
The one and only, Michael Clifford.
“Now Michael, I’ve called you here because you need a better grade in Music as you keep deciding to skip the lesson. Therefore, for extra credit and to boost your performance grade, you’re going to do the talent show.” Your teacher stated.
“What?!” The boy exploded “It’s in like a week! I don’t have time to think of something and practice it for then, and I know my friends won’t wanna be in your lame show any more than I will”
“That’s why I’m pairing you up with Myrena”
Now it was your turn to explode.
“What?!” you exclaimed, fear gripping you as you realised you might actually have to spend time with the boy you hated.
“Now listen here the two of you, this could benefit you both greatly. Myrena, having Michael there to help you play the song might not be a bad thing; it’s his song, after all”
“You stole my song?!” Michael shouted, pointing at you and quirking his raised eyebrow. You looked down to your feet, feeling ashamed of yourself.
“Now now Michael, people cover artist’s songs all the time, if you’re going to be in a famous band or whatever then you need to get used to it” Michael huffed and slouched in the seat he was sat in even more than he already was. “Anyway, this gives you an advantage Michael as you won’t need to prepare much for the show and it’ll help you boost your grade. There’s also a talent scout offering a scholarship into the College of Performing Arts-“
“No!” you burst out, causing both your teacher and Michael to give you a weird look. You blushed and looked back down to your feet, shuffling slightly. “I mean, that scholarship’s only for one person and I- well, I wanted- I need to-“
“You want to get a scholarship into the College of Performing Arts?! Come on princess, even a monkey could make better music than you”
“Michael, that’s enough” your teacher said in a warning tone, glaring at the smirking boy. “Now wipe that smirk off your face. The two of you best get home, the janitors will be locking up soon”
You turned on your heel and sped out of the room, returning to the practice room and grabbing your hand written sheet music and your bag before swiftly walking away from the music department.
“Oi, wait up!” you sighed and stopped in your tracks, waiting for Michael to catch up to you.
“If I’m gonna perform with you, we need to practice, idiot”
“I know” you stated.
“So, you gonna give it to me or what?”
“Give what to you?” you asked, not fully understanding where he was coming from “My number?” you guessed.
“No, your virginity. Of course I meant your number, fucktard”
“Don’t fucking call me that” you spat, grabbing his phone and entering your number into it before dropping it back into his outstretched palm and swiftly leaving the school, not wanting to be anywhere near the boy anymore.
Unfortunately, you’d have to spend a lot more time with the boy from now on, and it became clear when you received a text saying tomorrow, after school, music department from an unknown number that it would be sooner than you’d like.
You were stood outside the practice room, rocking back and forth on your heels. School had ended half an hour ago and Michael hadn’t turned up yet. Honestly, you were ready to walk away because if he wasn’t willing to show up then you weren’t willing to let him join your act, no matter what your stupid teacher said.
You were just about to start walking down the hallway when the door opened and Michael walked through it, a smirk on his lips and his neck covered in love bites. “Finally, what took you so bloody long?!” you exclaimed in frustration.
“I ran into an old friend” He smirked, winking at you when you huffed in disgust.
“Come on then” you said, opening the door to the practice room and stepping in, walking over to your piano and plopping down onto the stall. “Now as it’s your song, I figured you could help me with these last few notes” you said, pulling out the sheet music you’d written and placing them on the stand above the piano keys.
“Okay. Play it through and I’ll tell you where you’ve gone wrong”
And finally, after a long long time, he was happy with the way you were playing the song.
“You didn’t fuck up, for once” Michael faked enthusiasm before rolling his eyes. “Now, let’s go home”
“What?”
“We’ve been here for like fifteen minutes, I have a life y’know” Michael stated, standing and walking to the door. “Coming?”
“Unlike you, I want to do well and am willing to give up more than fifteen minutes of my life for this” you stated, turning back to the piano and starting to play the song. You heard him scoff and then the door shut and you smiled at the thought of being alone, before you started to sing.
“Everybody’s got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming, I’m the one who ends up leaving, Make it okay” This song was pretty deep. Michael had written it with Calum Hood, and you started to wonder if Michael had demons of his own.
“See a war I wanna fight it, see a match I wanna strike it”
That’d be his anger you thought.
“Every fire I’ve ignited, faded to grey”
Does he have trouble keeping friends, or lovers? You wondered, so busy analysing Michael that you hadn’t realised another voice had started to sing.
“But now that I’m broken” you were shocked and your body froze up at Michael’s voice, wondering why he was still there and if he’d been listening to you sing all that time. You didn’t fail to echo the lyrics though and were pleased that your shock didn’t make you mess up.
“Now that you know it”
“Now that you know it”
“Caught up in a moment, can you see inside?”
God, his voice is beautiful.
“Cause I’ve got a jet black heart” his voice was rough as he sang, emotion dripping from the words as if each word affected him in a different way, the rawness of his voice making his emotion genuine and heartbreaking “and there’s a hurricane underneath it, tryin’a keep us apart” you both sang, your voices mixing beautifully with each other’s as the song flowed around the room. “I write with a poison pen, but these chemicals moving between us, are the reason to start again” you dropped the note and continued to play, getting ready to start the next verse when you heard a door slam.
You stopped playing and turned in shock at the noise to see that you were alone.
That night, the only thing you could think of was what had happened in the practice room earlier that day.
Why did he suddenly run off? Is he okay? Was that even him who was singing with me? Did I imagine he was there?
You groaned and rolled over, closing your eyes and feeling yourself just drifting off to sleep when your phone pinged. You groaned again and grabbed it, squinting at the harsh light it produced as you read the text.
From: Fucktard.
Practice room, tomorrow, lunchtime.
To: Fucktard.
What if I can’t do lunchtime?
You could, you just didn’t really want to do it at lunch when you were meant to be catching up with your friends.
From: Fucktard.
Then kiss your scholarship goodbye.
You groaned in annoyance, knowing that he’d use the scholarship to blackmail you into anything and everything.
To: Fucktard.
Fuck you.
From: Fucktard.
You’d like that, wouldn’t you? ;)
You groaned again and dropped your phone to your bed as if it was burning your hand, then rolled over again before slowly drifting off to sleep.
The next day at lunch, you and Michael were sat in the practice room, screaming at each other.
It had started with Michael demanding that he be the one to sing the song, and you protesting that it sounded better with the echoes and the mix of your voices together.
“It’s my song! I’m allowed to decide!” Michael declared.
“For God’s sake Michael! We want to do the best we can, we’ll definitely do better if we both sing!”
“No we won’t! You sound like a fucking dying walrus for goodness sake! You’re not ruining my song!”
“You didn’t have trouble singing it with me yesterday!” You pointed out.
“Well that’s because I was dehydrated!”
“That doesn’t make a fucking difference!” You protested, glaring at Michael as he scoffed.
“Yes it does; clearly I was delirious!”
“Jesus Christ, you’re impossible!”
“So are you! And I don’t need you ruining everything for me!” Michael stated.
“Fine then! I won’t sing! But if the judges have a go at us for not using both our voices to achieve our potential then don’t fucking blame me!” you screamed, standing and leaving the room with a huff, anger erupting inside of you like lava out of a volcano. Michael sighed and plopped onto the piano stall, letting out an annoyed yell before letting his head fall into his hands.
He didn’t need to do what you said, he wasn’t in the wrong; it was his song! He deserved to choose who sung it and who didn’t.
Didn’t he?
You didn’t think so. You didn’t even want to think about school or the bloody talent show, you just wanted to go home.
So that’s what you did.
You stormed home, cursing Michael every step of the way until you’d flopped down onto your bed and let out a scream of frustration into one of the pillows, kicking and punching the mattress even though all it was doing was wasting your energy.
You hated Michael for being a dick, you hated your music teacher for forcing you to do the talent show with Michael and you hated yourself for letting people walk all over you like a fucking doormat.
Why couldn’t you just stand up for yourself like normal people do?! Why do you let them boss you around?!
You groaned and kicked your shoes off your feet, shrugged off your coat then slid under the duvet of your bed, warming yourself up and letting your eyelids droop until they finally fell shut and you found yourself slipping away from reality and into your own dream world, a world where you were doing the talent show by yourself, a world where you were so good that you got the scholarship hands down, a world where everything went right.
A world so much better than the one you lived in.
“Cause I’ve got a jet black heart, and there’s a hurricane underneath it, tryin’a keep us apart. I write with a poison pen, but these chemicals moving between us, are the reason to start again”
“Guys, stop” your music teacher, who had demanded to hear your act, said. Michael huffed.
“What is it? That was going well!” Michael whined.
“Why aren’t you singing?” your music teacher asked you, and you shrugged. “You need to sing! Your voices would mix so well, I just know it”
“That’s what I said, but a certain someone wasn’t happy about that” you stated, fake-smiling at Michael who glared at you.
“Sing it both together. Let me hear it”
“But sir-“
“Now, Michael” Michael huffed before nodding at you. You started to play again, Michael singing the start of the song.
“Everybody’s got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming, I’m the one who ends up leaving, Make it okay. See a war I wanna fight it, see a match I wanna strike it. Every fire I’ve ignited, faded to grey”
“But now that I’m broken”
“Now that I’m broken” you echoed Michael.
“Now that you know it”
“Now that you know it”
“Caught up in a moment-“ then you joined too “Can you see inside?”
“Cause I’ve got a jet black heart” Michael sung by himself, before you joined again for the chorus.
The two of you stopped after the chorus and looked towards your music teacher, who had a weird expression on his face. “That was…”
“Shit, I know, let’s go back to just me singing” Michael stated.
“Actually, no. It was amazing. I’m awestruck”
“What?” Michael asked in a disbelieving tone.
“The two of you sung that with such emotions and your voices mixed together so beautifully, it’s so raw and passionate” your teacher explained to the two of you, your face lighting up but Michael’s frown hardening.
“But-“ Michael tried to interrupt.
“That level of emotion cannot be achieved by just you singing, Michael”
And then Michael Clifford was knocked off of his high horse.
Saturday rolled around. Michael had demanded that you go to his to practice that day, as he couldn’t be bothered to go to your house and he’d probably ‘catch some sort of disease in there, anyway’.
You walked up to his door, nerves making your stomach clench. You weren’t scared, you just weren’t sure what to expect. You raised your hand to knock on the door when it opened and Michael stepped out. You took a step back as he shut the door and turned to face you. You were both silent for a minute, until he said “Well, aren’t you going to move?”
“Where are we going?” You questioned as he stepped around you “I thought we were practising?”
“Well I figured” he started to explain “That people can’t properly perform together or sing an emotional duet if they don’t really get along well. Now, as much as it kills me, I’m going to try and get along with you and get to know you, which is why we’re going to the arcade” You frowned as you followed him, shocked at his declaration.
“Right…” The two of you didn’t say much as you walked, luckily the arcade was close. You both went in and converted some cash for coins, before you both decided what machines to go on. “Wanna go on Mario Kart?” you nodded and followed Michael to the Mario Kart machines, sitting in one of the chairs. You looked at the screen and saw yourself on it, before you frowned. It took a picture of you and put it as your player icon. “Wait no, I wasn’t ready” Michael looked at your picture and laughed. You huffed and looked at his to see his was of him pulling a funny face with a double chin.
“It’s a masterpiece, I know” Michael stated jokingly.
The two of you (well, Michael) chose a track before you started the race. “You’re going down” Michael stated.
“You wish”
3
2
1
GO!
You’re pretty sure you must have annoyed a lot of people in the arcade; you were shouting and screaming at each other, hitting each other’s wheels and accusing each other of sabotage. By the end of the race, he had won. “See, I’m better than you.” Michael smirked as he stood.
“I challenge you to a rematch” You declared, turning in your seat and looking up at the boy.
“Don’t do this to yourself, you’ll just embarrass yourself more” Michael stated.
“Are you scared or something, Clifford?” You raised your eyebrow at the boy, who scoffed.
“Why would I be scared? You won’t beat me” Michael said, cockily.
“Then prove it” you demanded, putting more money in the machine. Michael huffed and sat back down, determined to beat you a second time.
You both pulled funny faces when the machine took your pictures, laughing at each other’s, before you chose a race.
This time you focused more on driving than sabotaging Michael, and things were looking up for you as you zoomed into first place on the final lap. You smirked, pressing your foot down even though the pedal was as far down as it could go. Your character rounded the corner and you could see the finish line, already feeling happy as you doubted that Michael could have caught up with you.
However, you were wrong.
At the last moment, Michael flung his arm out and pushed your wheel, causing you to crash into the wall as his character zipped past yours and towards the finish line. “No!” You tried your best to get away from the wall and drive after Clifford but it was too late, his character had passed the black and white finish line. A glare fixed on your face as Michael cheered, celebrating his wrongly-won victory. “You bloody cheater!” you shoved Michael slightly and he shoved you back.
“You’re just a sore loser”
“No I am not! I would have won that if you didn’t push my wheel” You stated with a huff, getting off of the seat and follow Michael away from the machine.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my success. Now come on, I wanna play you on crossy road”
You were not feeling alright. The talent show was that night and honestly it had you feeling sick to your stomach. Why did the stupid college people have to judge you at a talent show? It was unnerving to have everybody stare at you as you played. Luckily for you, Michael had been less harsh on you since the day the two of you went to the arcade. Not that it meant he was nicer – in fact, he seemed keener to stay away from you than he ever had done. When you met him to rehearse he didn’t talk or tease you, instead he just grumbled ‘let’s get on with it’ and started to sing.
At the arcade you thought that you and Michael had gotten closer, and that maybe he wouldn’t hate to be around you anymore, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He seemed almost offended by your presence, not that you were sure why he would be. But honestly, why did you care? It was Michael Clifford, #1 dickhead who put you down all the time. Why did you need to worry about him? You didn’t want to sound cheesy but you figured it must have been the fact that Michael was different when he was at the arcade; he was nice to you and treated you like a friend. Not that you ever would want to be his friend.
But you didn’t have to put up with him for much longer. You were backstage of the talent show, quietly singing your parts to yourself as you waited for Michael to show up. You were getting more worried about the fact that you hadn’t yet seen him than the fact that you were going to be performing on stage and could possibly not get a scholarship to the college you dreamed of going to. If Michael didn’t show up then you had to do it by yourself, and you would probably mess up somehow.
You fiddled with your fingers as you looked around, trying to catch sight of the tall boy you were meant to be performing with. You expected him to not show up as he didn’t really give a shit about the talent show, but you couldn’t help but feel the disappointment creep in. Because whether you wanted to admit it or not, you loved singing with Michael. Despite him ignoring you, you had loved all of the recent rehearsals because you loved the way your voice danced with Michael’s, and the way you could see him smiling in the mirror on the wall as he sang along. It was clear that the boy loved the song and that it meant a lot to him, and it always made you emotional to watch him sing it. You had hoped that he would show up to the talent show, if not for you, then for the song.
“Ten minutes, Myrena” one of the stagehands called to you and you nodded in acknowledgement, feeling your stomach clench. Why wasn’t Michael there yet? He had said that he was going to do the talent show, so was he really just going to abandon you like that? You didn’t think you could do the song as well by yourself and you hadn’t practised singing the whole thing by yourself. Was this the end of the scholarship for you? Did you have to kiss it goodbye?
So many questions and so many worries, all because Michael couldn’t be bothered to show his face. What a wonderful guy.
“Myrena, you’re on next” your eyes widened. Where the hell did those ten minutes go?!
You felt yourself starting to panic slightly and shut your eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. When you felt stable enough you opened your eyes and stood, walking to the wings so you could get ready to go on stage. You could hear the host talking about the act that was on before you, asking the audience what they thought. You could hear them cheering and applauding, and you knew that you’d never get that amount of appreciation if you had to perform by yourself.
Unfortunately for you, though, it seemed like that was what was going to happen. Michael hadn’t turned up, and the host had just called for you and Michael to go on the stage. You took a deep breath and walked on, smiling at the audience when they clapped and whistled politely. You walked as confidently as you could over to the piano, before sitting down and placing a hand on the microphone set up for you to sing into. “Hi” you spoke into it, wincing slightly at how shaky your voice sounded. “Michael can’t actually be here for, um… personal reasons, so I’m going to be performing Jet Black Heart by myself” You took a deep breath and turned towards the piano, flexing your fingers before placing them on the correct keys. You took a second to ready yourself, then started to play.
Michael, who was making his way towards the stage, heard the starting of Jet Black Heart and cursed, hobbling as quickly as he could through backstage and grabbing a microphone off of one of the backstage people. He had got into a bit of a disagreement with somebody and, well, they’d had a fight, resulting in Michael having to hobble around like an idiot.
“Everybody’s got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming, I’m the one who ends up leaving, Make it okay” Michael cursed again as your voice filled the room, sounding a bit shaky. He quickly made his way to the wings, cringing in pain as he did. “See a war I wanna fight it, see a match I wanna strike it, every fire I’ve ignited, faded to grey” Michael took a deep breath and stepped out onto the stage, causing people to cheer. You frowned but continued to play, not wanting to mess up.
“But now that I’m broken” You were shocked at the sound of Michael’s voice, so shocked that you missed the echo on the line. You turned carefully as you played, looking back at Michael who smiled slightly at you. You started to grin, turning forward and echoing “Now that you know it” once Michael had sung the line.
He’s here. He actually turned up!
You played the rest of the song with more confidence, the wobble gone from your voice as it intertwined with Michael’s in the most beautiful way. When the song faded to an end, the whole room erupted with cheers and clapping. You felt the rush of adrenaline from all the applause, your heart beating at a thousand miles per hour. You got up from the piano to bow, but as soon as you were up and turned around, arms were wrapped around your waist and you were lifted into the air (Although quickly dropped back to your feet as Michael’s body was in extreme pain).
“You showed up!” you exclaimed through the noisy cheering, and Michael nodded with a genuine smile on his face.
“I wasn’t going to abandon you. Had to make sure you didn’t ruin the song, eh?” you giggled and rolled your eyes, turning to the audience to bow with Michael before the two of you hurried off of the stage. You and Michael handed the microphones back to the backstage people and left the backstage area. You noticed Michael limping and frowned, stopping him in the empty corridor. “What’s wrong with your leg?”
“Hm? Oh, I got into a bit of a fight with someone. It was nothing” Michael tried to brush it off, but his face was saying something opposite to his words.
“It clearly wasn’t. What happened, tell me” you demanded and the boy scoffed.
“I don’t have to tell you everything that goes on in my life just because we did some stupid performance together” you raised your eyebrows at his words, crossing your arms as you did.
“I know it’s not nothing and I know that you need to talk about it, so talk about it to me” You instructed the boy, who huffed.
“It’s your bloody fault it happened in the first place!” You were taken aback by Michael’s outburst. What did you do?
“How?”
“Because my friends don’t like you. Sure, Luke, Ashton and Calum think that you’re alright but the rest of them don’t think highly of you. Imagine what they think of me when I-“ Michael cut himself off, knowing he was saying too much but you knew there was more to be said.
“When you what?” you questioned.
“When I defend you and go against my friends for you!”
“Why is it my fault that you’re defending me? I didn’t force you to! Why did you defend me in the first place, anyway? You don’t exactly give two flying pigs ears about me, Clifford.” You stated, the happy feeling you had from performing was withering inside of you.
“But I do! My God, you must be thick! Of course I care about you, I wouldn’t have done this bloody performance if I didn’t, and I most certainly wouldn’t have fought one of my friends if I didn’t give two shits about you! You’re so oblivious, it makes me wonder how you even manage to get through life! Maybe I should spell it out for you. I. Like. You. There, I said it, happy now? I like you, and it’s really fucking annoying and I tried to distance myself to stop but for some reason I couldn’t make myself stop, and now I feel the need to defend you all the time and I know that you don’t like me back and think that I’m a total fuckboy but-“ you cut Michael off, slamming your lips to his. He was so shocked that he fell against the wall (And honestly, you were just as shocked at your actions), but his arms wrapped around your waist, his lips started dancing with yours.
You pulled back and looked into his bright green eyes, your arms still around his neck as his were still placed around your waist. “I did think you were a total fuckboy, but – and this might be totally cheesy – you’re not how I thought. You proved that the day at the arcade, and the fact that you tried really hard in the rehearsals afterwards. I know that it must be horrible to fight with your friend and I’m sorry, but surely a real friend wouldn’t get angry at you for what you feel.” Michael stayed silent, staring into your eyes. “Can you please say something?” you questioned. Michael’s face stayed straight for a few seconds, before he broke into and grin and pulled you to him, crashing his red lips back to yours.
A grin broke onto your face as you tightened your arms, letting yourself get closer to his warm body. He was leaning against the wall for support as his body was still hurting, but you were providing a pretty good distraction to the pain. The boy pulled away, a smile still on his lips. “You’re not how I thought, either. And I’m sorry for being a dick to you, I’m not exactly the best around people I don’t know”
“No kidding” you laughed as Michael blushed slightly.
“But urm… I know that this is quite sudden and stuff but did you want to go on a date? Only if you want to though, like, keep talking. Because like I know you didn’t exactly want me in your life at first and-“
“Michael! Stop. A date would be lovely” you smiled at Michael’s grin and giggled as he pulled you in for another kiss.
And honestly, that was something you never thought you’d do: Kiss the popular boy, Michael Clifford. But that was one thing on the long list of things you never thought you’d do but you ended up doing, as well as winning the scholarship to go to the Royal College of Performing Arts.
~
This is dedicated to the biggest fan winner of my giveaway, @myreevee, I hope you like it!
If you receive this you make someone happy. Go on anonymous and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or someone you think needs cheering up. If you get some back, even better!
hello! it's been a while since I've checked up on you, just wondering how your anxiety has been lately? have you been better since we last talked? I really hope so xx
It’s not actually anxiety, it’s depression. But I’ve gotten worse, and I can’t seem to stop myself. Thank you for checking, it means a lot to know you care xx
Some friend who wants to talk: Hey. how're you?? :)
My mind: Death is inevitable. Life has no meaning. We're all pointless, our existence is founded on lies. We don't even know what we're doing here. What if we're all dead and this is just a virtual reality dream for an alien. WHAT IF ALIENS INVADE TOMORROW? I HAVEN'T EVEN GOT MY EXAM RESULTS YET. Shit I get my exam results soon, what the hell, fuck i'm a few years away from the point that my body starts dying. I have nothing to remember me by. I could die tonight. I could never find out what The Incredibles 2 was like.
Fucking shit, my phone froze while I was reading that and in my attempt to fix it I hit unfollow. I didn't mean to, sorry! I'm following you again! Take you're time indie. We'll be here when you come back. Stop stressing yourself out over tumblr. 💖
originally i was suppose to make a follow forever when i hit 1k followers but i really suck at making these types of things so i kinda just procrastinated on it uNTIL ONE DAY I HIT 3K WHAT THE FUCK (well now 3.2k since i procrastinated a little more HAHAHA)
i just wanna say thank you so much to all you lovely people for following me and liking/reblogging my posts cos youre all thebomb.com and it feels pretty damn awesome to see that there are a lot of people who enjoy this blog as much as i do :-)
and now here’s that part where i make an appreciation post for some amazing blogs who make me smile brighter every time i log onto tumblr and i just wanna let you know that i love all of you so much <3
and last (but definitely not the least) @5sos-official for being the reason why i made this blog in the first place!! hehe :-) sorry if i missed anyone omg ily
i’ll jus list down like all the writers i follow bc theyre all god damn talented and are blessed w amazing skills hihi (soz if i miss anyone tho its like 3am haha)
also i usually reblog the writings i rlly like so u can scroll thru my tags for some blurbs, one shots, au’s and fics depending what ur in the mood for :-)
(tbh sometimes i just go thru the 5sos imagines to look for writers’ masterlists and then from there i jus binge read on most of their work haha sometimes i forget to follow them tho rip)
I hit 500 followers on here very recently and I want to say a humongous thank you to each and every one of you! Thank you for liking my blog enough to follow me, honestly idk why anyone would but it makes me really happy that I now have 500+ new friends!! (Honestly I’m really shy so I like never initiate a conversation but I love talking to you guys so please come say hi and let’s talk!!!) I figured I’d make a follow forever (complete with extremely amateur edit lol) to celebrate. (I’ve put the rest under a read more bc it’s so long…this list turned into basically everyone I follow but I appreciate seeing every one of you on my dash so I didn’t want to omit anyone!)
