Punk Rock // m.clifford

1.0// you're not the only one

The guy with the colored hair was very nice. He followed me around and asked me if I was ok. He told me his name was Michael and I believed him.

I tried learning about my past. Somehow I had ended up here in this place working for the summer. The reason why I worked and had treatment was because my parents couldn't pay for the institution.

As my therapist told me the financial state, I saw Michael wince at the words, as if my being poor hurt his demeanor. I didn't think much of it at them moment.

Ever since I was able to walk on my feet again, I began to work on office duty. But after the session with my therapist and Michael wincing, they said I could stop working. And I had a feeling Michael had to do with this.

My mother tried to call me. She said how I should stay in the institution longer with this scare. But when she asked the office, they said that wouldn't be necessary. That my depression was going away.

The doctors had no clue who was responsible for me getting better, but they didn't question it. They said I would be moving on with my life. And that was a good thing.

But they also said something that was not so good. They said I wouldn't remember anything about the past four years. Maybe a few things here and there, and if I do remember one event, then it would be like a chain. So, per say if I remember something about apples, then I would recall everything apple-related. That's how the doctor put it.

"Annie," Michael said, snapping me out of my thoughts as I reminisced of the past few days.

"Yeah? Sorry, I wasn't-" I tried to explain myself, but just chuckled at my attempt, "I wasn't listening."

"That's okay. I was asking you if you wanted to go to dinner with me and the rest of my band," he said, biting his lip and playing around with the bracelets that covered his wrists. He was nervous.

"You have a band?" I remember a lot of things, but not the fact that Michael had musical talent. In fact, I didn't know he had any talent.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you about that. I'll introduce you guys again," Michael shrugged, but a smile had grown in his face, for I had said yes indirectly.

"Well, are you guys any good?" I asked, his eyes lighting up at my question. He looked up at me and sat close to me.

Michael nodded, regarding my question, "We are. Luke is the best singer I've heard, Calum could play for any band, and Ashton is like a god on the drums. Ans we have so many great fans."

"Have you travelled the world, Michael?" Questioning him felt a little weird, I must admit. But there was one thing that I wanted to do. And that was remember Michael.

"Oh, we've been everywhere. America, Japan, Europe, and so so so much more. I wish you could have been there," he spoke, chuckling and looking down as he said the last sentence.

"Well, you can take me," I grinned, but this only made Michael's smile fade away.

"I don't think so. As much as I'd love to, I don't think you're ready for that," Michael said, locking eyes with me once again.

"Why? Because I can't remember anything? Because I'm sick?" I scoffed, standing up and getting as far away as possible.

Michael just followed after me, sighing and trying to set things straight, "Well, partly. But it's because you wouldn't fit in. You're too innocent."

"Is that what I look like to you? Some sort of pure and free Bambi that you can corrupt?" Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms over my chest, signaling that I was about to walk out.

"I-Um-I don't-"

"Save it. Maybe one of your bandmates will be nicer to me," I slammed the door I had just opened behind me.

He wanted punk rock.

So he was gonna get it.

--:--

Blonde was definitely color. Well, at least the ends of my hair were.

And I didn't know temporary tattoos could come in sleeves.

Also, Thrift Shops were an amazing substitute to Urban Outfitters. Seriously, it's the exact same thing.

And piercings hurt. A lot.

Michael had texted me and asked if I was still coming. I refused to respond. Then he just said he would save me a seat at the restaurant, that it was casual, and that he hoped I would come.

Ideally, the dinner was at 7. Me? I showed up at 7:45.

I had gotten ankle boots that had a two inch heel. Somehow, I had gotten a hold of white skinny jeans. Then, over that I wore a light grey shirt with some black writing over it.

As soon as I hit the restaurant, it seemed like everyone stopped talking. Luke was the first to see me and once he did, he almost choked on his drink. Then, as he coughed, he pointed at me.

Michael swished around and stood up, looking mesmerized as I walked his way. In fact, they all stood up to greet me, which made me chuckle.

"Annie, what happened?" Michael said, putting his arm on my lower back.

"Bitch, you're not the only one that's punk rock."

-//-

SORRY SORRY SORRY FOR THE CRAPPY CHAPTER AND THE LONG WIAT

SORRY

I STILL LOVE YALL

I SWEAR

IM SORRY

ILY ALL

xoxo gossip girl