5 Seconds of Summer - One shots

Highschool sucks - M. Clifford

Despite his constant cheery mood and bubbly personality, it wasn't uncommon to hear various rumors floating through the school targeting one Michael Clifford.

His brightly coloured hair changed every few months, and if you were standing close enough to him you could hear a variety of songs blasting from his headphones that often remained perched on his neck.

He intrigued you like no other.

Despite what any adult or popular kid may say, high school is not all sunshine and rainbows. If anybody knew that, it was yourself and Michael.

Many times you heard douche bags from the popular clique refer to Mike as the "walking embodiment of a my chemical romance song". You struggled to see how that was a bad thing.

You and Michael were on opposite sides of a coin. While he stuck out like a sore thumb because of his bright hair, eclectic and slightly hipster dress sense and eyebrow piercing, you stood out because you were the target of jokes from your ex-boyfriends new conquest.

Anybody could see that she had more desirable features, based on the standards of your ex and his new girlfriend took it upon herself to remind you that your ex dumped you the moment he started to gain popularity.

Joining the football team because the coach felt sorry for you obviously has it's perks.

Michael was the target for jokes from the football team, who didn't understand his desire to make his own choices for his body. Their pack-mentality, toxic masculinity made sure they targeted him for anything they would deem "girly".

As such, that led to the events of the current day.

You trudged through the school hallways, on your way between classes. Your folder was clasped in an iron grip, and your bag perched on your shoulder as you tried to keep everything together on your way.

The earphones plugged in your ears did enough to keep the chatter out of your head, but unfortunately you could still see as Lisa, the new girlfriend, gathered her crew of mean girls and your asshole ex to make snide comments that fell on deaf ears.

Today had not been a good day. You missed the bus, stepped in a puddle causing one sock to be drenched all day and you're currently dropping everything and running late for class.

It's safe to say, you had no control over your actions as you ripped an earphone out, and snapped your head to the girl.

"Lisa, you don't need to be such an uptight twat all of the time!" You had intended to be passive aggressive, but instead the words came out aggressive-aggressive. You would like to say you didn't mean it, but you're positive you did.

Before Lisa could reply, your ex, Connor, waltzed over, a patronizing smirk plastered on his face that isn't as attractive as you once though.

"Watch your mouth Y/N. I see you still don't have respect for people who are better than you," the smirk was getting on your last nerves.

Before you could drop your folder and slap the smug look off of his face, a blob of red hair was positioned between you and Connor.

You didn't realize until now how tall Michael was. He stood two inches taller than Connor, but that didn't cause the boy to back down.

"Don't talk to her like that," you heard Michael growl.

You had never heard the vibrant boy sound so annoyed. He didn't necessarily sound angry, but anybody could tell he was way past frustrated.

The smirk stayed plastered on Connors face and he looked over Michaels shoulder at your angry face.

"Awww, look, the freak is standing up for the freak."

Michael simply laughs, "you'd think after a few years you'd come up with more material, but I guess it's difficult when you share a brain cell with your girlfriend."

A fist connects with Michaels cheek and you're instantly shoving Connor backwards and slapping him as you prepared to do earlier.

Just your luck, Mrs Bishop, the deputy principle comes around the corner as your hand connects with flesh and she looses her mind.

That's how you and Michael found yourselves stuck in detention for a week.

At least your dad was proud you finally stood up to your ex. He never liked him.

It's hard to ignore the pang of guilt as you look at Michaels bruised cheek from across the room. He took the hit like a champ, not even stopping to react before you got in the way of his returning hit.

You couldn't stop yourself from grabbing Michaels arm after detention that day, and stopping his still upbeat footsteps.

"I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you. For defending me against Connor," he looked at you with a puzzled expression. Almost as if he didn't know why you were thanking him.

"Oh! Oh, it's fine. The asshole needs to relax anyways."

"How's your cheek?"

His fingers touch the area lightly, and his expression shift once he remembers the wound. He makes a noise like a sputtering car, "Oh, it's fine. I've had worse from my friend Calum."

A soft laugh escapes from your lips and he watched with an expression that mirrors your own.

The next words fall from your lips without thinking then through, but you don't care, "Wanna get lunch with me tomorrow?"

"As a date...?" He wiggles his eyebrows and you bite back a laugh.

"If you would like that."

"I would love that, Y/N."