violet skies / michael clifford

a ticket to another world

31. are you leaving, michael?

"Michael is gonna be late," Calum says from inside the office. I hear the boys talking as I'm walking down the hallway, trying to catch my breath.

"I'm here," I manage to say, and their heads turn when they realise I've arrived.

I'm not that late, but apparently enough to annoy everyone. Not the best way to meet our new manager, I suppose.

We've finally managed to get a real one. No more taking turns hopelessly pleading down the phone to different venues. Thank fuck. I always hated trying to convince people that we were great. My calls would usually end in 'look man, we really need this'.

Most of the time, they'd hang up on me.

"Ah, Michael Clifford. Have a seat."

Johnny is bald, a little round and has an epic beard. He stares me down, icy blue eyes piercing into my soul. For a moment, I'm thinking he might kick me out of my own band.

I feel uneasy, and as I sit down, my foot is twisting. Jessa usually does that when she's nervous. I can't believe I've picked up on her habits.

"Lads, we're going on tour."

We're all silent, cause it sounds like a joke.

"Really?" asks Calum, a hopeful tone in his voice.

"Don't expect anything too fancy. There's a van and some cheap hotel rooms waiting for you, but the venues are not too bad."

Ashton cringes, swiping his fringe to the side. "Exactly how cheap are we talking here?"

Calum and I both turn our heads to look at him at the same time, and Luke gives him a soft elbow in the rib.

I guess Ashton isn't too keen on the idea of living with us in a messy hotel room. I'll make sure to leave my dirty socks on his bed every night.

Accidentally on purpose, of course.

"Ouch."

"Trust me, we're used to staying in some really shit places," I say, and Calum nods. "Ash, you'll be fine. I'm sure Luke can give you a cuddle at night if you're scared of the bed bugs."

He freezes for a second. "You know?"

"Know what?" Luke asks, the urgency in his voice confusing me. "Mikey doesn't know anything, we all know that." He laughs awkwardly, running his hand over his stubble.

I give him a confused look. "What am I not supposed to know?"

"It's nothing," sighs Luke.

Johnny clicks his fingers to get our attention. I guess we're a handful to deal with sometimes. "Lads. Please. Focus."

"Sorry," Calum mumbles on behalf of all of us. We're a somewhat easily distracted bunch of people.

"You're the lead guitarist, Michael. Do you know what that means?" Johnny leans back in his chair, his attention on me.

"That I shred better than Luke?" I grin at the blond sitting at the other side of the couch. He raises a middle finger. "Deal with it, blondie."

"No." A deep, raspy laugh rumbles from his throat. He rests his hands on the desk, moving forward. "It means you better watch yourself. I know the girl attention will be tempting."

"Uh. . ." His statement has taken me by surprise. Is he calling me a slut? "What does that have to do with playing lead guitar?"

"I think it's the shredding that does it. The girls go crazy for that stuff."