violet skies / michael clifford

"what the fuck is a wemo?"

8. you're just a wemo, michael

She's disappeared again, and I feel a little bit let down. I don't expect her to stay, but the way she said she'd make it up to me had me thinking that maybe she would. But even though I try my best, I'm not the one to take her home tonight.

michael: did you get home ok?

jessa: yea, ash walked me

michael: good good

michael: i wouldn't have minded giving you a ride home though

jessa: i told my dad i was with ashton all night

jessa: he would have been suspicious if i came back with a band

jessa: but thank you

michael: you told a lie?

michael: you've become a rebel

michael: i like it 😁

When she doesn't respond for a while, I assume she's fallen asleep. I feel the need to at least end the conversation on a good note.

michael: night, sweet dreams 😘

My finger slips to the emoji blowing a kiss, and I immediately realise my big mistake as the message is sent and delivered. Feeling anxious about whether or not she would find it strange when she read it, I deliberated in my head whether or not to let her know it was a mistake. I decide not to, I don't want to make things any worse than they already are.

My face is flaming red. It stays that way for quite some time, and it gets a lot worse when the message is marked as read. I can feel my heart beating fast. I know what's about to come and I have to go to the kitchen and pour myself a large glass of cold water before it explodes into a full anxiety attack.

Calum is sat on the couch, feet propped up on the table next to a box of pizza. "People are tweeting about us," he says, scrolling on his phone, "it's like sixty percent good, forty bad, so better than we thought."

"Cool."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You look like you've been slapped in the face." Calum states and puts his phone away. He puts his feet down and gestures for me to come sit down. "Is this about the girl? Jessa?"

The mention of her name sets it all off for me. I take a seat next to him, head in my hands. And that's when I explode.

"I just can't stop thinking about her. And I just don't know why, but like I accidentally sent her this thing, I mean– I just did it and it's sent now I can't take it back and I feel really weird, you know, like–She's going to take it the wrong way or something and I just–"

"Michael?"

"I'm playing her subconsciously. I can't stop. It's like a game I can't–"

"Michael."

"Yeah?" I look up.

Calum has a serious look on his face now. "Breathe. Count it out. One, two. In, out."

"It's okay. I'm okay," I say as I catch my breath. "Thank you."

The next day, Ashton shows up to our rehearsal as promised. In fact, he's earlier than Luke, who comes bursting through the door half an hour late and still wearing his KFC work shirt. For once, it's not me.

Ashton looks younger than the rest of us, but I don't question how old he is. He's wearing a bright red t-shirt and the same weird jean shorts he wore last night, a large dimpled smile on his face as he introduces himself.

"I'm Ashton," he says, and I can't help but notice how his hands are fidgeting the whole time, especially when he meets Luke's eye. His smile fades.

The new guy and Luke have a mini-staring contest, and when Luke snaps out of it, I give him a questioning look. He just shrugs, and pulls out a Nirvana t-shirt out of his bag, changing out of his fried chicken-smelling one. "Alright, let's begin."

From behind Ashton's drum kit, a familiar face peeks at me every now and then. I catch her every time her eyes wander to me, because my gaze is kept steady on her.

She is the main reason why my attention span is shorter than usual during rehearsals. I have a hard time concentrating as it is, and having her sat at the back of the room really doesn't help. During our two hour session, I manage to mess up more than Ashton and he is the new guy.

She knows it, as well. Each time I mess up, she looks right at me, laughing softly. With every failed chord, my face goes redder, until I feel the embarrassment physically burning my face, large pearls of sweat forming at my temples.

"Can we take a break?" I ask, desperate to get out of there. "Need some air."

I'm having one of my worse days, where although I try to make it go away, the thoughts just won't stop running through my mind. There are just too many things and stuff and the guitars and the bass and the drums and thoughts that are just forcing themselves on me when I really don't want to think anything at all. All I want is silence. I need silence.

"You okay?" Calum asks, putting down the bass in its stand.

"Yeah, fine. Gonna go for a smoke. I'll be a just a minute, yeah?" I escape around the back of the house, pulling out the packet and lighting the cigarette between my lips. At the first drag, I feel calm again.

"I didn't know that counted as fresh air."

It doesn't take long until I find that I've got company. I turn my head, watching as Jessa takes a seat on bench next to me. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She stays silent, pushing herself back to sit against the wall. "Please blow the smoke away from me," she says.

"Anything for you." I turn the other way, letting my head fall back as I exhale and let the smoke escape. Then, I flick the cigarette once, and face her again. "Better, princess?"

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Would you rather I called you. . ." I think for a moment, but cannot find any other name. I couldn't bring myself to call her Bambi to her face. "Actually, I've got no better nickname," I say, shrugging at her.

"Okay, well, then how about I call you wemo."

"What the fuck is a wemo?" I take another drag, remembering to face the other way at the last minute.

"A wannabe emo."

Her words cause the smoke to get caught in my lungs, forcing me into a coughing fit.

"That's disgusting, don't call me that," I say when I can finally catch my breath again.

"My point exactly," she says and leaves me to finish my smoking break on my own.

I'm not sure if she's doing it on purpose but the way she sways is pulling me in. I put out whatever is left of the stick between my fingers and follow her inside.

-

wannabe emo, eh?
luke and ash both work in kfc? whats going on there

love ya lots

~lauren