summary - based off of the song “’tis the damn season” by taylor swift from the album evermore.
request - yes! thank you @nicebasscalum for this lovely request, this is one of my fav songs on evermore and sorry it took so long to get to you. i hope its kind of what you had in mind.
warnings - none
word count - ~2.3k
a/n- i’m so sorry for not posting as frequently, I’m trying to only write when I feel driven or passionate so I don’t make it not fun for myself. I’ve also been really busy with school but I hope you guys like this, I had a lot of fun writing it.
This town reminded you of your formative years, of careless summer nights and flying down back roads with the windows down. Of backyard fires and cheap alcohol. It reminded you of him. His deep brown eyes and the way his hand fit in yours. Of all that might’ve been.
The inside of the grocery store was warm in contrast to the brisk air in the parking lot. What had your mom said she needed? You tugged a crumpled post-it from your jacket pocket and read through the short list a few times over, committing it to memory, and then tucked it away again.
You walked through the familiar aisles, memories of sitting in the cart while your mom did her shopping flooded back to you. It even smelled the same as you remembered.
You hadn’t been home since last Christmas so one would expect some things might’ve changed, but home was always the same. The same people, the same stores, the same weather.
You met his eyes over the produce section while he shoveled apples into the little plastic baggy. You wanted to scold your hands for trembling and your heart for doubling in speed at just the sight of him. Of the green hoodie you’d seen a million times before and the black leather jacket that no matter how tattered it got, he’d never part with. You returned the soft smile he gave you and so he made his way over, his eyes never leaving yours. They were just as piercing as you remembered.
Always the same, not one dark curl out of place.
“Back home for a bit?” He rolled his cart up next to yours.
You nodded, swallowing hard. “My mom promised me homemade pie so I made the trip.” Maybe jokes would help diffuse the tension.
He smiled but didn’t laugh. “Her pumpkin pie is unmatched, I’ll admit.” You began to mull through the aisles together, stopping to grab things here and there. It felt oddly comfortable. Domestic. You pushed away the thought.
“I would tell her you said that, but her ego is too big as it is. She wants to make a recipe e-book.”
Calum shook his head like he was reminiscing on your past. Your mother had always loved Calum — you complained she did even more than you. “She has dreams, goals. That’s respectable,” he countered, fighting a smile like he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.
“The woman makes one good pie and thinks she’s Rachael Ray.” This comment forced a small laugh out of Calum, breaking through his stoic facade. You could understand why he was guarded considering what had happened between you. It hurt you that you had hurt him.
“Hey, I’ve been hanging with Jenny, Kate and the boys and they’d all love to see you again. Maybe we should plan something while you’re home,” Calum offered. You ignored the fact that he included his ex girlfriend in that list.
You nodded softly, feigning excitement. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
He smiled. “Great.”
You knew how much it hurt Calum when you left. You and him were so alike and yet, so very different. You were driven and ambitious and high strung while Calum never forgot to stop and smell the roses and would give up anything and everything for the people he loved. You wished you could be like Calum. You wished you weren’t so ahead of yourself all the time.
You couldn’t remember the last time you smelled the roses.
Your need to get out, your itch to see bigger things, Calum didn’t understand it. He saw your little home town as the entire world. Because your little home town was you. And Calum’s world began and ended with you.
“I’m staying at my parents house,” you said.
Calum looked up and for a second you saw something in his eyes flicker. Like yearning.. or hope. “If you wanted to stop by. My moms itching to see what you think of her new apple pie recipe.”
Calum laughed and you admired the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, his smiles took over his entire face. It was a direct reflection of how Calum felt emotions, entirely and completely, all consuming.
“Tell her I’m there.”
You grabbed a box of cake mix and tossed it in your cart, completing the list. “Well, I better get going. I guess I’ll be seeing you soon.”
Calum nodded. “Yeah, soon.” He looked like he might say something else, but then changed his mind.
You waved goodbye and turned left, leaving Calum to head towards checkout.
Calum didn’t like watching you walk away. It brought back a kind of pain that wouldn’t dissolve completely. Because he couldn’t get himself to let go of you. He knew what he was signing up for if he got too close again, but he just wasn’t sure if he could help it.
On your way home, you tried to ignore the lingering strands of red and green lights and wreaths. Even well after Christmas, the decorations remained, making you feel nauseous instead of cheerful.
You passed Calum’s parents house, their white siding and deep red door looked the same as they did when you were kids.
You could almost smell the chalk and freshly cut grass and almost see the pink, blue, green and yellow drawings scattered down the driveway and sidewalk. You could almost picture Calum’s dimpled smile and your scraped up knees. They were simpler times.
The happier memories were quickly replaced when you moved your attention to the porch, covered in snow at this time of year.
The chirping of cicadas surrounded you as soon as you shoved open the screen door, storming down the driveway towards your beat up gray Camero.
“(Y/n) if you leave now, don’t bother coming back,” Calum shouted from the front stoop. You heard the crack in his voice, the emotion. You didn’t need to turn around to see it.
You stopped dead in your tracks, cringing at the rough scratch of your converse halting on the eroded pavement.
You turned your head slightly, but changed your mind. He didn’t understand. He would never understand. This town, this life, it would never be enough for you.
You couldn’t get yourself to think it, but he… he alone would never be enough to fill the emptiness, the want. You yearned for a life outside the town limits. You didn’t want to order takeout from the same Italian place on Grove Street, you didn’t want to be shut in for months of cold, wishing every day for summer, you didn’t want to live the rest of your life as a nobody. You had to get out. You had to make something of yourself. And Calum didn’t understand why his arms weren’t enough to keep you warm on those cold December nights. Or why his company didn’t make the same old Italian takeout taste like the best meal you’d ever had.
Calum wished he could fill the void in you, Calum selfishly wished you would stay. And you selfishly knew you couldn’t.
A truck was parked in the lot of the old school, the place you lost your first tooth and found your first love.
The truck reminded you of Calums, of the warm, sticky summer nights spent out living like every day was your last.
Screaming at the top of your lungs to dumb old pop punk music with all the windows down, muddy tires, fireflies and trips to the lake. You’d never been happier than you were in the passenger seat of that beat up old truck.
You couldn’t get his smile out of your mind, he was everywhere in this town. He was in the trees, smiling down at you with missing teeth and that same cheeky grin, he was at the diner sitting across from you sharing his fries after you said you weren’t hungry, he was on the sidewalks, falling off his skateboard but getting up every time and trying again, he was at the record shop, flipping through vinyls and sticking his tongue out at you from another aisle. He was everywhere and you couldn’t take it anymore.
Your tires screeched on the slushy pavement as you took a hard right, heading for Calum’s apartment complex. As you drove, you passed Calum’s college and admired the huge Soccer field he must love playing on. As you stared, you noticed a curly brunette kicking a ball alone, with only a shirt and sweatpants on, completely disregarding the frost covered ground and the freezing air.
You couldn’t help but smile at his persistence, that kid never looked out for himself and you always had to be there to do it for him. Until you weren’t, and he had to learn how to cope.
You pulled into the parking lot, throwing the car into park. Your hands shook with a great persistence but you swallowed down any doubt and slid out of the driver’s seat, making your way to him.
He saw you coming, his eyes flooding with confusion and then softening. He wanted to run to you, to pull you up into his arms and never let go. To listen to every dumb story and be a shoulder to cry on, to watch movies and make meals together, all the little things. But he stood rooted at his place in the field, unable to risk another heartbreak as severe as the last. That left him broken and unable to open his heart to anyone.
It’s why he hadn’t stayed with Jenny. She could tell his heart wasn’t really in it, that there was a (y/n) shaped space right in the middle of him that never healed.
Your teeth chattered as you met him in the field. His face now looked hesitant, his guard was up. You wanted to cry because the boy that once trusted you to hold his heart in your hands could barely even look you in the eyes.
“We could call it even,” you whispered. The quiet of the snow all around you and the pale sky was both eerie and perfectly calm. The two of you stood a few feet apart, afraid if you got any closer you wouldn’t be able to stop yourselves from falling back into each other, from preventing what you worked on forgetting for so long.
“What?” Calum’s eyebrows scrunched together and your hand flinched. You wanted to reach out and touch his face.
“We could sleep in half the day.” You blinked away the tears forming in your eyes. “Just for old times sake. I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.” The words came out shaky and unsure.
Calum stepped forward, hands reaching out to grab your arms. “(Y/n)…” His voice was gentle. He was in pain. You stepped back out of his reach.
“Then I’ll go back to LA and the so-called friends who’ll write books about me if I ever make it.” The tears were falling freely now. “And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking.”
Calum’s eyes were glossed over as he watched you with such intense longing. “(Y/n), please.”
“We could call it even. Even though I’m leaving.” The cold air was stinging your cheeks and all you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms but he had to understand. That this couldn’t be forever. That you would be gone come Monday morning. He couldn’t count on you and he had to understand. “And I’ll be yours for the weekend.”
He tore his eyes away from you, staring at the snow around his feet, contemplating, thinking.
His jaw clenched tightly as he thought. When he looked up at you, there was an unmistakable glimmer. Of that boy who wore his heart on his sleeve. “Okay. We can call it even.” The smile that followed was one full of pain but you could tell that he wouldn’t fight you on this. He knew he’d never understand but he also knew that any extra moment he got to spend by your side would be worth it.
He stepped towards you and this time, you let him.
His cold hand grazed your cheek but somehow, it was the warmest thing you’d ever felt. “Can I kiss you?”
His deep brown eyes shone with nothing but pure affection. You nodded softly, leaning into his touch.
His forehead fell down to rest gently upon yours and suddenly, nothing around you mattered. Not the honks from down the street or the kids sledding on the opposite side of the park.
Only Calum.
His free hand rose up to wrap around your waist and you’d never felt more safe. In his arms, nothing could touch you. His fingertips dug into your side like he was afraid you might slip away but you stood rooted, no matter how shaky he made your knees.
He leaned in slowly, his nose brushing ever so softly against yours. His lips hovered above yours and you felt the warmth of his minty breath. Your hand ran up his neck into his hair, scratching softly, and his grip tightened around your waist.
With one more look at your rosy cheeks, Calum swept down and pressed his lips against yours and it felt like the very first time. The tugging in his chest exploded. You clung to him for support, fearing if you let go, you would collapse into the snow.
His lips were soft and molded perfectly with yours. You moved in sync almost like you had never left.
When Calum forced himself to pull away, he saw your clear eyes meet his and was convinced it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
And as you and Calum walked back to your car, laughing like you hadn’t spent a single day apart, you thought the road not taken looked really good now.
That this unrealistic standard you had set for your life of luxury and fame wasn’t actually what you had been looking for to fill that void in your heart.
That maybe, it was right in front of you all along.
regardless of Ashton’s relationship status and whom ever be is dating, it will never ever take away from my pure, passionate love for him as a human and a soul enriching being. His overwhelming presence in my life and soul is something that has become such a huge piece of my ever cumulative knowledge of love. he as a being has taught me so much. the way and reasons i love him are not even in a purely sexual way they are in a truly melding of spirits and this may not make sense to some but to some they may be able to relate and i just wanted to say this because some people have hated on who Ashton dates and I believe that to be a travesty upon the person doing the hating. I personally want nothing but the absolute most soul enriching experiences in life like I have got the pleasure of experiencing thanks to him and if someone else enables him to be a more pure version of himself, then for however long that is for I encourage it and I am personally happy for him.
It’s so great to see him back home :-) To see him completely aligned with himself and everyone around him, and to watch him come full circle in his success is so beautiful :)
could you imagine getting dressed with him for a fancy event and goofing around and just acting stupid and dancing around being all happy and in love and stuff <3 that just sounds like heaven on earth
do you ever wonder what it would be like to be able to do the little things like going for coffee with him or going grocery shopping with him. all of that just sounds so fun. :)
Here I sit, on the floor of my bedroom, trying not to freak out, while Michael Clifford lays snoring lightly in between my sheets. Never in my whole life, would I have thought that anything like this would ever happen. I keep having to pinch myself, so I know it’s not a dream.
I’m sitting on my floor, with my legs crossed, and my Mac on my lap. I keep searching things about Amnesia, and on every website it says to go to a doctor immediately.
I completely understand why Michael doesn’t want to go, hospitals are creepy and stuff, but if he can’t rememberanything, he really needs to go to the hospital.
I look up at him again, still amazed at how quickly he fell asleep. Basically the second that his head hit the pillow he was out. He must have been exhausted.
All to come and see me.
I pinch myself again, and see that Michael is still there, in my bed.
Michael Clifford is is my bed OH SWEET BABY JESUS WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS???
Calm down Andy, or you might start actuallyyelling.
“I’m calm, I’m calm.” I whisper to myself, even though it’s a complete lie.
I log onto Twitter, and see if the boys know that Michael’s missing, I mean of course they have to, he’s their bandmate!
They’ve been tweeting the regular stuff about writing with other celebrities, or being excited for the next show. I guess that they’re hiding it, so that the fans don’t freak out.
I hurry and type out a DM to Ashton, him being the only member that follows me. When he did first follow me, I was freaking out, and having the worst ‘seizure’ Brandon’s ever experienced.
I quickly type it up,
'Hey, Ashton, if you didn’t know this, Micheal’s not with you. He showed up at my doorstep today, and can’t remember, please reply.’
I send it, hoping that he might see it, even though I know deep down that he won’t.
Glancing at the time, I start to freak out, because Brandon will be home in less than an hour. Tiffany won’t be long after him, then the parent’s and Ruth will get home a little while after them. If they see him, or even know that he was here, they’ll definitely freak out, and I don’t even want to think of what they’ll do to me.
I jump to my feet, and put my Mac on my dresser. And scribble a note out to Michael.
'My famliy is going to be home soon, if I’m not in my room, don’t look for me,
***DO NOT MAKE ANY NOISE
-Andy’
I place it on my dresser, so he will definitely see it if he does wake up and I’m not in my room. The only think I know about this whole situation, is that no one can know that he’s here.
Taking two stairs at a time, I make my way upstairs to our kitchen. Food is out everywhere, along with dirty dishes, and my school work. I quickly shove the food into their containers and back into the fridge. Placing the dishes into the dishwasher without even rinsing them, one of my moms biggest pet peeves, but I don’t care at the moment.
I shove all of my schoolwork into my bag, not caring if stuff gets crumpled. The kitchen is spotless, so I make my way downstairs. I put my backpack in my room, before heading into my bathroom to see how dirty it is.
There’s a few towels out of place, and the shower curtain is wide open. My tooth brush and tooth paste are strewn across the counter. Letting out a breath, I clean everything up, making sure that mom wouldn’t bug me about it. Calling her a neat freak would be an insult to neat freaks. She’s a cleaning Nazzi, and if it’s not perfect, she’ll go off lecturing me about being lazy and sloppy, for an hour. It’s happened before, and believe me, it’s not a pleasant experience.
I check on the washer, to see if Michaels clothes are nearly clean. They are clean, so I throw them in the drier, along with some of my clean clothes, so it doesn’t look like I’m just cleaning guys clothes, because that wouldn’t go down well.
I hear the back door open, and my eyes go wide, how can be home already?
“Why are you home so early?” I question as I make my way upstairs.
“Your mom wants us to have a family talk or some shit.” He rolls his eyes, and walks into his room.
A groan escapes my lips, “And she didn’t bother to tell me?”
He comes back into the kitchen, and shrugs. Brandon opens the fridge, grabbing the box of left over pizza. My eyes go wide as he opens it.
“Holy shit Andy, were you hungry much?” He scoffs, taking a huge bite of a piece of pizza.
“Schools lunch is shit you know that.” I quickly make up a lie.
“Yeah, but there were four more pieces in there last night, you cow.” He contradicts himself, because a huge piece of food comes flying out of his mouth as he insults me.
“Whatever you say.” I pat his back, pulling out a glass to get a drink. Who knew that hiding a famous guitar player in your bedroom would be so much work? Not me, that’s for sure.
“Water’s not the only thing you’re thirsty for.” Brandon sniggers.
“Yeah, you and Mr. Hall seemed to be getting pretty cozy.” Tiffany joins in as she walks in the back door.
I roll my eyes, and start to sing the nonsense of what sounds like the part of Lion King where they’re rising Simba into the air. I continue singing, and rise both of my middle fingers, flipping both of them off.
Tiffany huffs, and tosses her hair over her shoulder, bumping into me as she struts into her bedroom. She’s always such a heinous bitch to me, but I understand why. Her and Brandon’s mom died of cancer a few years ago, and out of the blue their dad marries my mom. They can’t take it out on their dad, or my mom, so why not take it out on me?
Still, it sucks, massively. I gulp down another drink of water, wondering if Michael’s still asleep or not. I mean he should be, he looked like he could sleep for a month.
The sound of the garage interrupts my thoughts on the sleeping guitarist in my room. My mom’s car pulls in first, followed by Phillips. I fill up my water, knowing that I’ll most likely need something to help me buy time to think.
Mom enters the back door, with Ruth in her car seat.
“Ruthie!” I squeal, and run over to her, taking her from mom.
“Well hello to you too Andrea.” Phillip jokes, making me cringe when he uses my full name.
“Phil.” I nod at him, and return my attention to Ruth. Phillip lets out a sigh, because I used his nickname, that no one but me calls him. He’s told me numerous times that he hates the nickname, but I only use it when he calls me by my full name.
“Everyone be at the kitchen table in five minutes.” Mom’s voice calls from their bedroom.
Some serious shit is about to go down.
I hear my phone vibrate, and look around for it. I must have forgot about it when Michael showed up, because I find it on the counter, where I set it after Adam called me. Speak of the devil.
Adam’s Apple
'Good luck tonight ;)’
I’m confused by the text, so I don’t bother to reply to it. Ruth squeals in my arms, and turns to face me. She starts tuggig on my pony tail, causing my head to ache. Her face when she see’s me in pain is so adorable, that it’s worth it.
“Tiffany, get out here!” Phillip calls. I look up to see that everyone’s at the table, but Tiffany.
She stomps out of her room in leggings and a Nike t shirt. She always wheres her cheerleading uniform to school, which confuses me because, man those things look tight and very uncomfortable. She slumps down in her usual seat, which is as far away from me as she can get, with an irritated huff.
“I’ve heard that you three aren’t getting along too well.” Mom laces her fingers together, staring seriously at Tiffany, Brandon, and I.
I snort, “That’s an understatement.” Which earns a glare from everyone at the table over the age of two.
“Andy’s just kidding, we get a long great! Can I go back to my room now?” Tiffany uses her fake voice, like she always does when she’s talking to my mom.
“Nice try, but no.” Phillip gives Tiffany a stern look.
“Brandon?” Mom asks him, to get his opinion.
“Everything’s fine.” He crosses his arms across his chest, and looks extremely bored.
Mom sighs, rubbing her temples, “I got a call from Adam today, saying that Andy thinks everyone here hates her, well besides Ruth of course. Is that true Andy?”
Now is when my glass of water comes in handy. I press it to my lips, taking very slow sips, whilst plotting how to murder Adam in my head.
Mom’s still looking at me expectantly when I swallow.
“Yup.” I pop the 'p’, as if it’s no big deal that I think everyone hates me. Which it isn’t that big of a deal, I understand why, I kinda hate me too.
“Well, that could not be farther from the truth. Everyone here loves one another, and no onehateseach other, understand?” She says, as if it’s a rule, and we have to love each other, and we’re not allowed to hate each other.
“Yes ma'am.” The three of us reply in sync.
“And to make sure that everyone believes that, from now on, every other weekend we’re going to do something as a family. No friends, electronics, or whining is allowed. It’s just going to be us spending time together.”
“What?” Tiffany screeches at the same time that Brandon and I ask, “No electronics?”
“This is the rule from now on, and there’s no if’s and’s, or but’s about it. I do not want to hear any whining either.”
We’re all left speechless, with our mouths wide open.
“This will commence next weekend, because frankly I’m too tired to do anything this weekend.” She announces.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing that today never happened.
“You’re excused.” Phillip says after a few seconds. I immediately get up, and take Ruth to her room. After placing a quick kiss on her forehead I hurry down to my room, trying to hold back the tears, but I fail.
They’re streaking down my face by the time I’ve shut my door. I glance over and see that Michael is still asleep, and a wave of relief washes over me. If he was awake, I don’t even know what I’d do.
I collapse onto the ground, leaning my back against my dresser. Small sobs escape my lips, along with a wave of ugly crying. I haven’t cried this hard in a while, but everything’s crashing down, and now I’m left to deal with my problems.
My entire family hates me, my father’s in jail, school is hell, I have no friends, and no one to talk to, I can never sleep, I’m constantly getting called hurtful names by everyone, and I pretend that I don’t care, but I do, deep down I do, and I hate it. Adam tried to make things better, but he only made it worse. Every other weekend is going to be hell, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And to top it all of Michael fucking Clifford showed up at my front door, asking for me, saying that he can’t remember anything.
“Andrea, are you okay?” Michael’s sleepy voice, and his hand touching my shoulder makes me jump.
I scoot away from him, and shove my palm across my cheeks, wiping away the tears.
“I’m fine.” my voice betrays me and cracks.
“You sure?” He looks concerned, but I look away quickly, refusing to meet his eyes.
I nod, and stand up, “I’ll be right back, stay here and be quiet.”
He doesn’t say anything, so I quickly leave, making sure to close the door behind me. I head straight for my bathroom. My knuckles turn white from the grip I have on the counter as I stare at my reflection.
I’ve got bright red eyes, and tear tracks on my cheeks. I look as crappy as I did all day, but I’ve given up caring about how I look a long time ago. I splash some water on my face, and dry it quickly. As I exit the bathroom, mom’s walking out of the laundry room.
“Honey, take care of your laundry.” She says the seconds she see’s me. When she looks at me closer, I look away, and walk past her. I know that she saw that I was crying, but of course she doesn’t say anything.
The sound of her footsteps become quieter as she walks up the stairs. I let out a breath, and lazily take all of my clothes out of the drier. I shove them into a basket, and walk back into my room.
Michael’s looking at the posters on my wall, of bands and musicians that I like. I’ve also hung up some of my drawings or paintings that I really liked. He’s staring at one of my darkest drawings. It’s of a cell, and a man sits in it. A little girl stands on the outside, gripping on the bars. The man had tears streaming down his face, but the little girl looks angry.
I drew it when I was in my stage of hating my father, and myself. One reason I hated him was because he was drunk, and killed someone. My mother was the main reason I hated him though. She hated him with all of the hatred in her body, and she only pushed me into hating him. She convinced me that he was a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man and a father.
I believed her, but eventually I matured, and saw it how it was. One huge accident. My dad didn’t mean to kill the girl. He shouldn’t have been driving in the first place, but that was poor judgment, because of the alcohol. Him and mom had been arguing a lot, which caused him to drink.
It was all a big mess that I can’t forget about.
“Your clothes are clean.” I clear my throat, shoving the memories to the back of my head.
Michael turns around swiftly, holding a hand to his heart, “Shit, you scared me.”
“Did you not hear the door open and close?”
He shakes his head, “I guess not.”
“Well, here they are. You can wear Adam’s clothes if you want though. Speaking of the bastard.” I hand Michael his clothes, and pull out my phone, sending him an angry text.
'Thanks a lot asshole.’
“Adam’s your..?” Michael looks at me confused.
“Dumbass of an older brother. He’s in college now.” I explain, as I read my new text.
Adam
'Well I wasn’t just going to say nothing, and let you be miserable. What happened?’
I roll my eyes, and quickly type,
'Your good deed backfired. We have to spend every other weekend as a family, no friends, or electronics. It’s going to be hell.’
Adam
'It won’t be that bad. It’s every other weekend.’
My cheeks puff out in anger
'Yeah well when I’m getting murdered by them I won’t have my phone to call you and tell you how bad it is.’
He doesn’t reply, so I shove my phone into my pocket. I look up to see Michael staring at me, and jump, because I momentarily forgot that he was there.
“Oh! Yeah, about you…” I trail off, blushing lightly.
He smiles, then his face turns concerned, “What are we going to do?”
“That’s a great question.” I laugh, but it’s the wrong time to use my terrible sense of humor, “To be completely honest, I have no fucking clue. But I do know, that no one in this house, but me, can know that you’re here. So you have to be completely silent when they’re here, got it?”
Michael nods, “Got it.”
-
Authors note:
Chapter 3!
For some reason the last chapter didn’t post all the way on wattpad but I fixed it, so It’s complete now :D
So I write the chapter on wattpad, as a draft, then when I’m ready to post it, I copy it all, and paste it to a draft on tumblr, and for some reason, it doesn’t bold or italicize anything, which is a real big pain my ass so I have to go back and redo everything that’s bolded or italicized, which I do a lotof ;) do you guys know why it does that/ have a way to make it not do that?
What do you think about Andy’s family? I think they’re terrible (aside from Adam, and Ruth, I love them) , but they have a reason to be.
Speaking of Adam, I chose Dylan O’ Brien (heart eyes to the max) to play him, and there’s a picture of him on the side/top! He’s a smart college student, and he has a hobby that you guys don’t know about yet ;)
Give it some notes, and message me if you enjoyed this chapter!
have a great day/night/life
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY if you don’t have a Valentine, then be your own Valentine, because you’re amazing and you have a cute butt ;)
love ya
HTJ
p.s. the next chapter of Dollhouse is coming soon, and shit’s about to go down, I’m excited, are you?
The number one most irritating noise in the entire existence of the universe, is the noise of an alarm clock buzzing. Because that’s all it does, is buzz and buzz and buzz until you finally roll over and whack it hard enough to get it to shut up. I mean crying babies at 4 am is a close second to the most annoying thing, believe me, I know exactly what that’s like, but alarm clocks are the most “I’d rather be deaf,” annoying sounds in the world.
Yes it’s Friday and I should be waking up like Cinderella, but no, I’m definitely Ana in the comparison of how realistic people sleep compared to Disney princesses. Even if I am a drooling, hair everywhere, mess like Ana, there’s no way in hell I’m singing after I get ready. Who even does that, life isn’t High School Musical, you can’t just sing whenever you want.
If I did sing in every situation I could, everyone in the world would be deaf. Then they wouldn’t have to deal with alarm clocks. Maybe I’d go deaf if I sang more.
“Andy, get up!”
Queue the third most irritating noise in the entire existence of the universe.
I let out a huge groan, and fall out of bed. I literally fall, like I thought there was more bed, but nope. So here I sit, lying on the false carpet of my cold bedroom, questioning life. It’s 6:53, on a Friday morning, do I really have to wake up and go to school?
“Andy, now, you can’t be late again.”
Yes, I really have to wake up. Groaning again I thrust myself up off my floor and trudge out of my room, to the bathroom. Thank his that I’m the only one who sleeps in the basement, because there’s no way I could share a bathroom with any of my siblings.
Moms in the laundry room, trying to find something to wear like always. I don’t understand why she cares so much, she just sits behind a desk all day, aside from when she’s selling people houses. All I ever wear are sweats and on my good days maybe some jeans.
Today is not one of my good days. After I finish in the bathroom, I zombie walk to my bedroom, hearing my mother sigh before I hear her footsteps go up the stairs. I shut my door and get dressed, throwing on a fresh pair on sweats, and a hoody over the t shirt I’m wearing now. I throw my hair up, not caring what it looks like. After I throw on some socks and shoes, I grab my phone, keys, and backpack.
“Andy!” My mother screams for the third time this morning.
“I’m coming!” I shout back as I stomp up the stairs.
“Watch your tone with me young lady.” Mom scolds me, which I return with an eye roll.
“Bye mom! Have a wonderful day!” I shout sarcastically as I slam the back door, and open the drivers side door of my crappy Honda.
“God it’s about time.” Brandon sighs, turning on the radio as soon as I turn on the car.
“Oh shut up you little insect.” I whisper and smack his hand away from the radio.
I glance in the rear view mirror to make sure that Ruth is safe in her car seat. After I finally pick a good radio station, I pull out of our garage and head to Ruth’s nanny. Since she’s only a year and a half old, and both of the parents in our household work full time, she goes to the nanny every day while everyone’s at school and practice, etc.
Once I’m outside of Jenny’s house, and the car is off I carefully take Ruth out of the car, in order not to wake her. Even though she is a deep sleeper, waking her up while she’s sleeping peacefully is not a good idea.
“Good morning Andy!” Jenny chirps in her irritating barbie doll voice.
“Hi.” I glance up at her, then return my gaze to Ruth.
“Okay, Ruthie, see you tonight. Have fun with Barbie.” I whisper as I kiss her forehead.
Reluctantly I hand her over to Jenny.
“See you Monday morning! Have a great day Andy!” She widely grins at me.
I nod at her and walk away. I continually am amazed that no matter how loud or how much Jenny talks, Ruth never wakes up. But when I even talk in my normal voice, she wakes up screaming.
As I drive away from Jenny’s house, I crank the radio, and drum my fingers on the steering wheel. Brandon groans, and I grin evilly, then I start to sing (more like screech) along with the song. His hands immediately go to his ears, as he shouts at me to shut up.
Two seconds later we pull up to our school, right next to the gym entrance where I always drop him off. I slam on the brakes and turn town the radio.
“Get out.”
“Gladly, god you’re such a freak!” He exclaims then slams the door and runs into the building.
I roll my eyes, and drive away, completely use to the names that he, and everyone else call me.
Once I’m at Starbucks my mood brightens slightly. Coffee makes everything better.
“The usual.” I say to the worker, and he punches it into the computer, knowing my order by heart, since I do come here every day; a caramel macchiato and a plain buttered croissant.
By the time I’ve driven back to the school, found a parking spot, and eaten my croissant the tardy bell rang ten minutes ago. I lazily stroll through the school continuing to sip on my warm coffee. Eventually I end up in the office, signing a late slip. I sloppily write that “Starbucks or school, you choose.” As the excuse, and once it’s signed by an ornery woman who’s name I still haven’t cared enough to learn, I head to math.
“Ms. Ross, how nice of you to join us.” my balding math teach exclaims once I hand him my slip.
“It’s great to be here, Bill.” I wave my had behind me as I walk to my seat, earning a few snickers from the class.
“As I was saying…” Blah blah blah, it’s too early to think about math right now.
I doodle all over my binder as Mr. Reed teaches something I will most likely never use in life.
No wonder I’m failing this class.
I sigh, and attempt to pay attention to what he’s saying but it’s so incredibly boring.
When the bell finally rings, I lazily exit the room, ignoring the looks that Mr. Reed. The next hour I have is Financial Literacy, and I don’t pay attention in that, Physics, or English. Lunch rolls around, and I go through my usual routine; buy nasty food that is only half edible, find an empty seat, eat the stuff that doesn’t taste like cardboard, dump the rest, sit by locker until the bell rings, listening to my musical choice of the day during the whole lunch hour of course. I would go out to have lunch, but I spend my allotment of cash on gas and StarBucks everyday, so sadly I can’t afford the luxury of McDonald’s for lunch.
Gym is torture like always, especially after lunch, like who would put a child through torture like that? Today we played dodge ball, so double torture.
Finally, the last hour of the school day arrives, and it’s the only class that I actually enjoy; Art.
“What are you working on today, Andy?” Ms. Abbott surprises me, making me jump slightly.
“Just a black and white self portrait.” I answer, slightly embarrassed.
“It shows a lot of emotion, you’re a true artist, keep it up and you’ll be famous.” She grins at me, then walks away.
I stare at the dark drawing I front of me. It shows me lying flat on my back in the middle of the road, dark clouds above me, and rain falling, the tiny droplets resting on my face. I used to paint, and draw, with loads of different colors, they were all so bright and happy.
That’s not how it is anymore. For three years now, anything I’ve done has always been in black and white. Ever since that damn night, that changed my life forever.
“Andy, go call your father, will you? He should be home by now, dinner’s getting cold.” Mom ask’s, rubbing her temples. She’d been getting migraines lately, and all she wanted to do is have a nice family dinner. We haven’t had one in months, because dad started working later, and mom has been to tired from her work.
I look over at Adam, but he’s too busy texting Katie, his actually serious girlfriend. They’ve been together for a month now, and he’s happier than ever, but he’s constantly with her. Not that it matters, he thinks I’m an annoying pest, so he never is around me anyway.
In the family room, we have a phone, and that’s the only one I’m allowed to use. Mom doesn’t allow me on hers, and I’ve never touched Adam’s, not that I want to, who knows what a 17 year old teenage boy has on their phone. I dial dad’s number, and wait for it to ring.
“What?” he asks gruffly.
“Mom wants to know when you’ll be home.”
“I’m almost there, probably ten minutes, you can all eat without me.” He slurs, and I know he’s been drinking, again.
“Okay, drive safe, love you.” I sigh.
“Love you too.” He grumbles, then hangs up.
I walk back into the kitchen, “He says to eat with him, that he’d be ten minutes.”
Mom sighs, “Go ahead, I’m not hungry anymore.” She then leaves, making me frown.
I serve myself some cold Ziti, and chew on the cold pasta. I glance up at Adam, to see him shoving food in his mouth, whilst texting.
“Who knew you multitask.” I mutter.
“Shut up tiny.” He sends me a quick glare, then focuses back on his phone.
I sigh again, and push away my food. I stand up and leave the table, heading straight to my room. The walls are light pink, with flowers all over them. I’ve kept bugging mom and dad about changing it, to more mature colors, instead of keeping the colors I picked out when I was six. They always brush it off, saying we’ll redo it soon.
I grab my sketch pad from my table, and collapse on my bed. Paging through everything I’ve ever drawn, I stop on my latest one. The back of a girl, who has long, gorgeous blonde hair. She’s holding a white rose, and has loads of different kinds of flowers in her hair. She’s standing in a field of gorgeous flowers, and the sun is shining down on her.
I’m reminded of Rapunzel, but a more modern version. I’ve colored it with my new pastel colored pencils I saved up for, and love. Once I’ve finished the sky, I start on the field, and here the phone ring.
“Hello?” Mom’s the one that answers the phone.
“This is she.”
“What?” her voice is light, and shocked, and my stomach instantly drops.
“I’ll be there right away.” I can tell that she’s about to start crying.
I walk out of my room, and see her hang up the phone with her hand on her mouth.
“Mom what happened?” Adam asks, standing up.
“Your father, he was driving, and he didn’t see the girl crossing the street. They said that he was drunk.”
My eyes widen and a gasp leaves my lips.
“I need to go to him.” Mom’s already got her keys in her hand, and is slipping on her shoes.
“We’re coming with you.” I say, but mom shakes her head urgently.
“No, there’s not enough time, you two stay here.” She decides, and is out the door.
I look at Adam pleadingly.
“Did he sound drunk when you talked to him?” his voice is completely serious.
“Adam, you kn-”
“Did he sound drunk?!” He shouts, causing me to flinch.
I just nod, and look away from him.
“And you didn’t bother to tell us that?!”
“I didn’t want to stress out mom more, and you never listen to me!” tears form in my eyes.
“If it was about him I would have.” he’s not shouting anymore, but what he says hurts me, causing a tear to stream down my face.
Adam walks away, leaving me alone in my thoughts.
We’re at our house, without a single word from anyone for two hours. Two hours of self loathing, and blaming myself. Finally the phone rings, and Adam’s the first one to it.
“Hello?”
I move closer to Adam, to try and hear what’s going on. He pushes me away, sending me a glare.
“Seriously? Okay, hurry and be safe.” He hangs up and starts to walk away.
I grab his arm, turning him around with all my strength, “What did she say?”
He pushes me away, making me repel back and hit the wall, causing a sharp pain to shudder down my back, “She’s coming home, alone.”
I look up at Adam shocked, that he actually hurt me like this. He walks away without another word. I slide down the wall in shock, of everything that’s going on. The second the door opens, I’m to my feet, asking mom what happened.
We all end up at the kitchen table, that still has our cold dinner on it.
“You’re father was arrested for vehicular homicide. He hit a little girl who was crossing the street, and she died instantly.”
I’m shocked, while Adam opens his mouth immediately.
“Was he drunk?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing the answer already.
“Yes, he was driving while intoxicated.”
“Jesus Andy this is all your fault!” He shouts, standing up.
“What?” mom asks, completely lost.
“Andy knew that dad was drunk when she talked to him on the phone, and just like the child she is, she didn’t bother to tell either of us!”
I look up at mom, with guilty eyes.
“Is this true?” She whispers.
“It’s not the first time, so I just assumed everything would be fine.” Oh how I wish I could disappear right now.
“Telling us could have prevented this Andrea, you could have prevented this.”
The look she gave me, is one I can see every day, and try to forget.
All I want to do is forget, but I never can.
My father was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. I haven’t gone to visit him, mom refuses to let me. I used to write him letters, but eventually mom stopped letting me. She despises him, and doesn’t want anything to do with him. Adam’s 21 now, so he can see him if he wants. He’s done it behind moms back once, made me promise not to tell her about it. I wanted to go with him so badly, but he wouldn’t let me.
Mom got married two years later, moved on real quickly. She never really loved dad, she just stuck with him because of me and Adam. She married a big shot pediatric surgeon, and is the happiest I’ve ever seen. Phillip, has two kids of his own. I got a new step sister, Tiffany, the head cheerleader that’s a senior at my school, she loathes me, and lives to make my life hell. Brandon, is the most irritating fifteen year old I’ve ever met. Him and his friends love to torment me, and prank me.
A few weeks after mom and Phillip got married, she announced that she was pregnant. Ruth looks like both mom and Bill, she’s got black hair, and bright blue eyes. She’s the only one in our house that doesn’t hate me.
“Andy?” Mrs. Abbott snaps her fingers in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry.” I blink and look up at her.
“The bell rang, schools out, go home so I can too and watch Gossip Girl.” She shoo’s me away, causing me to grin.
“See you tomorrow Jules.” I say over my shoulder as I leave the room, holding my sketchpad to my stomach.
“See you.” She answers.
It’s pretty sad when you’re art teacher is the person you talk to the most at school.
Sighing, I make my way out to my car, and drive straight home, excited for a few hours to be alone. Mom and Phillip have work, Tiffany always has cheer practice, and Brandon’s either at football or with his friends. I’m the one that doesn’t have a life and stays home everyday.
Not that I’m complaining, it’s great to be alone. I can blast my music, eat all I want, and not care about anything, sometimes I don’t even wear pants, because I don’t have to. It’s that great. Then they all come home eventually, and it goes back to normal.
My music suddenly turns off, and my phone starts to buzz. I look at it to see that Adam’s calling me.
“Adam!!!!” I scream.
“Jesus Andy, I’m gonna go deaf.”
“Well hello to you too.” I grumble, with a mouth full of leftover pizza we had for dinner last night.
“How are things?” He asks, knowing my situation at home.
I sigh, “Still the same, they all still hate me.”
“They don’t hate you Andy.” Adam groans.
“Yes they do.” I reply in sing song.
He sighs, “Ruth doesn’t, she adores you. How is the little booger?”
“She’s good, still going to Barbie’s house everyday.” I walk around the house, not knowing what else to do.
“Mom’s still working full time?” He sounds shocked.
“Yup.” I pop the ‘p’.
“God almighty, Phillip makes more than enough to support everyone, there’s no reason for her to be at work.” I can tell that he’s putting his face in his hands.
“She goes just so she doesn’t have to be around me.” I mumble.
“Andy.”
“Adam.” I copy his tone.
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“Whatever you say. How’s college?” I change the topic, because I don’t want to talk about our mother, and I want to know how he’s doing.
“It’s great, the classes are a difficult, of course, but the parties, the girls, it’s great, you’d love it Andy.”
I scoff, “If it’s anything like high school I doubt that.”
“Do they still bring it up?” he immediately asks.
“Every damn day.”
Adam sighs, “I’m sorry Andy, they don’t even know the whole story, so just ignore them, you know it’s not your fault, right?”
I stay silent.
“Andy?”
“I could have prevented it Adam, you said so yourself.” My voice is weak, and on the verge of tears.
“Andy, it was three years ago, we’ve gone over and over this, it was not your fault at all. I was an ass back then, you of all people know that, but what I said was so wrong. Even if you did tell one of us, what would we have done, called him and had him get into an accident, and possibly die?”
“We could have went to pick him up, or had him catch a cab, or-” he interrupts me.
“Stop, just stop. You think about it a lot don’t you?”
“Constantly.”
Adam sighs, “have you been taking the pills?”
“I ran out of them months ago, and mom hasn’t bothered to notice that they’re empty.”
Adam’s quiet for a few moments, “Sometimes I think you’re better off living with me.”
“Me too.” I whisper.
“I have to go, my roommates home, and needs help with something. I’ll talk to you soon, just talk to mom will you? You need those pills Andy.” Adam speaks quickly, and seriously.
I hear noise in the background, “I will.” Complete lie.
“Okay, love you tiny.”
I smile at the old nickname, that I used to hate, “Love you too, Apple.”
Adam laughs lightly, then hangs up. I sigh, and toss my phone on the counter. I walk into the bathroom, and wince at the site of me. My eyes are bloodshot, with huge bags underneath them, my hair is all over, and my wardrobe is boring. Overall I look like a zombie. Turning on the water, I splash some on my face, trying to rid the bags under my eyes. I give up after a few seconds.
I stock downstairs to my bedroom, grabbing my glasses, so I can actually see the homework that I’m not going to do. I notice clothes all over my floor, and groan, knowing that mom will yell after me if she see’s it. Right as I start to clean up my room, the door bell rings.
My head snaps to my window, and I don’t see any car in my driveway. The doorbell rings again, and I start to walk slowly towards the door, slightly worried by it, because I never get anyone knocking on the door when I’m home alone.
The person knocks on the door, repeatedly.
“Calm your tit’s I’m coming!” I exclaim, as I make my way up the stairs. I open the door with a glare on my face.
“What do yo-” my voice stops working when I see a head full of bright red hair.
“Are you Andrea Ross?” his Australian accent sounds exhausted, and out of breath.
My eyes widen, not believing my eyes. Michael Clifford stands at my door step, looking like he just got hit by a bus. What do I do?
I slam the door in his face.
authors note:
New Michael fanfic! I know that he’s not in this chapter a ton, but it’s more of an introduction to Andy’s life than it is actually getting into the Michael part.
What do you guys think? If it gets enough attention and people tell me to continue, I will because I have some amazing ideas for it, and I’m excited.
I’m still writing Dollhouse (Luke), but I though this would be fun to write too. Both of the stories are going to be updated slower than usual though, because my life is so busy at the moment.
Your relationship with Michael was like a fairy tale at first. After the first month, you started arguing more and more, those turned into fights but you guys always made up before going to bed that same night. And you couldn’t care less because, in the end, he was still yours. No matter what you told yourself you craved him, you were addicted to him and the attention that he gave you, he was your gold rush. Sadly the fairy tale didn’t get a happy ending. The main reason why you fell out happened a few months ago. You were both invited to a Halloween bash by some of Michael’s famous friends. You had decided to dress up as Kíli and Tauriel from the Hobbit franchise and it wasn’t hard to miss him in a house full of people because of the way you had decided to dress. Somehow during the night, you lost each other, it could have been the booze, it could also have been the fact that a whole lot more people showed up to this party even though they weren’t invited. So you decided to go on the quest and find your boyfriend. It took you 6 minutes before you found Calum and he wasn’t looking too happy. “Okay look don’t get mad but I just saw Michael kissing another girl. I just thought I’d let you know, not because I had like a tiny crush on you bu-” you hadn’t allowed him to finish the sentence because you had planted your lips on his. You quickly pulled away. “Oh my gosh, Calum I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have. Oh my God, I hate myself. Sorry sorry sorry.” You quickly ran to the front door, not caring that you had left Michael behind. You just needed fresh air and you needed it now. You sat on the steps to the front door, crying your eyes out. You were broken over the fact that Michael kissed someone else, it felt as if your whole world had just fallen apart. And worst of all you did the same to him.
That night you decided to go home alone and address it in the morning when you both wouldn’t be intoxicated with alcohol anymore. The next morning came but Michael’s side of the bed was empty and cold. You immediately got worried, what if something happened to him last night? What if he was so drunk that he couldn’t get home? You decided to text Ashton, you wanted to text Calum first but the flashback from last night stopped your brain from typing his number, and seeing that Ashton was more the dad of the group you had faith that he’d know what was up. Ashton, however, told you that he didn’t know where Michael was and that he hadn’t seen him leave the party either, so he could still be at the party house. You decided to text Michael again and leave him a Voicemail. The text went to read almost the second that you send it, he was ghosting you.
Michael came home later that day. Not speaking to you. However, he didn’t go straight to the bedroom to pack his things. He grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the dining table, right across from where you sat with a cup of tea. “I think we should break up. I know what I did was wrong and I know you did the same thing. But I don’t feel like we can fix this. At least, I know I can’t fix this. We haven’t been us for a while now.” “Yeah, I agree.” Is all you said and with that, he became the cold touch. You haven’t seen or spoken to him ever since, but you could honestly say that he was your favourite ex, all of the others cancel out each other and it’s always him left. Because he was your no sleep, cried for weeks, favourite ex.
A/N: Kinda based on the ABBA song (I adore them) and also the new Mamma Mia film!
Pairing: Y/N & Luke Hemmings
Word Count: 758
Warning(s): none? I guess
When you were forced to go on a holiday with your parents, you were kind of bummed out. But when you actually arrived in France, you were blown away by the beauty of nature. The lakes nearby were even bluer than the sky. The mountains looked beautiful in dusk and dawn.
You love to run so every morning before anyone at the camp side was awake you would go for a morning run when the temperature was still bearable.
You ran up the mountain when it suddenly became dark. Dark clouds had formed above the mountain and it didn’t take long before it started the rain heavily. You run further and try to find shelter. Suddenly a car came out of nowhere and stopped right before your feet. A young man stepped out and screamed at you through the rain. “Do you need a ride?!” You didn’t hesitate and before you knew it you were in his car.
“Hi, I’m Luke”, he said and tries to shake your hand while still keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “Hello, I’m Y/N”, you say and shake his hand. “So are you staying on the camp side near Le Grand Lac?” “I am actually. Are you?” you ask him. You can recognize a soft Australian accent, so you made the conclusion that he, also, wasn’t from around here. “No, I rented a cabin in the mountains. I’m not much of a camper”, he laughs at his own answer. “Yeah, me neither. My parents forced me to go on this holiday with them”, you sigh. “How old are you?” He suddenly asks and glances over to you quickly before looking back to the road. “I am twenty, almost twenty-one. You?” “Twenty-two myself”, he says smiling. You want to get to know him and are about to ask a question when he suddenly stops the car. “This is my place. Uhm, I guess you can stay here until the rain stop. I can drop you off then if you want.” You nod silently and turn to look at him, you hadn’t noticed how hot Luke actually was. A comfortable silence fell over you two as you sat in the car. The rain ticking on the roof and the windows.
You look at him, really look at him, and notice how blue his eyes are, how curly and wet his dirty blonde hair is, how pink his lips are, and how the white shirt he is wearing makes him look even more tan than he already was.
He in his turn looked back at you. Flicking his eyes between your eyes and lips. You both hadn’t noticed but you started to lean more and more towards each other. When suddenly your lips touched, it felt so perfect.
The next few days you had spent with Luke, you had informed your parents of course. To be honest, you were kind of surprised to hear that they actually didn’t mind.
After almost a week of being together and sharing everything with each other, Luke told you something you would never forget. “I am engaged.” These three words where not the three words you had been waiting for. And you ran all the way back to the campsite, to your parents. Only to fall into your mother’s arms and cry. You cried for three days and then you decided to move on. Luke came looking for you on day four. “Can we talk?” he asked and sat down on the grass, you sat down a little further from him. “About what? How we have shared everything together and how you ruined it?” You could feel the tears coming back, but you tried to keep them in. “I only have three questions for you. How long have we been together?” “A week”, he answered. “How long did you wait before telling me you were engaged to someone else?” You could hear your own voice quivering. “A week”, he answered again. “And do you honestly expect me to forgive you?” you say and want to get up. “Look Y/N, I can break off the engagement.” “Honestly Luke, I think you should go. There is nothing we can do. We just have to face it this time, we’re through. Breaking up is never easy I know, but you have to go. It’s the best we can do.” And with that, you leave him alone and head back to the campsite. You don’t dare to turn back around.
