Michael Clifford Imagines

Super rich kids

By: dipitin5sauce on tumblr
< Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean >
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It was only a few days before your big final. You weren't too worried since English was your best subject. It came so easily to you. However, for other people, it was a hard struggle.
"This is your grade so far," you overheard your English professor tell the student with the spiky hair, "That band thing of yours really isn't doing you well." The boy's lips formed a frown. His name was Michael Clifford. You and Michael had been friends since you were in diapers until you turned ten and his parents separated. You lost touch and didn't see each other again until high school when you were sixteen.
Michael was different now. His attitude had changed. He and his bandmates were intimidating and 'exclusive'. They only hung out with each other. His wardrobe changed too. He used to be that little kid in the khaki overalls and white socks that showed above his shoes. Now he was the guy with the black, band tank tops and black skin tight jeans. And his hair. It was platinum blonde. You had to admit, puberty had done him well.
"Well quitting the band isn't an option," he snapped back at your professor. It wasn't any of your business, listening into their conversation, but you couldn't help it. "I need to pass this class." Your professor let out a helpless sigh, slouching his shoulders. He handed him a book, "Then study up. Your final is in on Thursday. If you can get a B, your grade will rise to a C." Michael took the book gladly and started walking back to his desk. You caught eyes for a moment before you looked away. You hurried out the door, staring down at your feet, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks. You were in the hallway when you heard a voice call out your name.
"Y/N!" A deep voice called out, "Y/N wait up." You spun around to see Michael coming after you. You smiled, "Michael."
He let out a small chuckle and smiled at the ground. "I'm surprised you remembered me."
"I could say the same," you replied.
"Look Y/N," he said in a more serious tone, "I know this is the first time we've spoken since we were ten but I need to ask a favor from you..."
"What is it?" you asked although you already had a feeling of what it might be.
"I'm failing Robinson's class and I need to get a good grade on the final to pass. You've always been brilliant - especially in English. I was wondering if you'd help me study..." he bit the corner of his lip, anxiously waiting for your response.
You nodded, "Sure I'll help you." Michael let out a sigh of relief and hugged you by surprise. He pulled out a piece of paper and began writing something down on it. "Come to my house tonight, say around seven?" he said, handing you the piece of paper, "and we'll study."
You slipped it into your binder, "Alright."
Later that night, you drove to the address written on the paper Michael had given you. It took you all the way to the other side of town - the rich side. You parked your car in front of the given address. His house was enormous. It had tall black gate enclosing it and the house was in the very back. You pressed the intercom. Buzz. "Hey Michael," you spoke, "It's me, Y/N. Are you in there?"
You heard a buzzard and the gate started open automatically. You walked towards the house. The lawn was huge. The grass was trimmed perfectly and there were flowers bordering the edges. There were no cars in the driveway except for Michael's motorcycle which was parked near the front door.
"Y/N!" Michael cheered when he opened the door. "You're here!" He eagerly took the large book from your hands. "Follow me." The house was even bigger on the inside. It was incredibly spacious. Michael led you through the foyer, the kitchen, and into the family room. It was twice the size of your living room. Michael had it all set out. He had his pencils sharpened and laid out, his books stacked neatly, and bags of chips and soda with cups on the side.
You took a seat on the sofa and he sat beside you. You both pulled out your books and your study session began. After a few hours, you checked the time and saw it had gone by so quickly. "Shit, it's almost midnight," you said. Michael looked at the clock, "Oh you're right."
"I need to get going," you start packing up your things. You stood up and headed towards the door, with Michael following behind you. You noticed a familiar toy on the round table by the door. You picked it up, "Michael, is this the toy frog we won at the arcade on my tenth birthday party?"
Michael took it and examined it, "Yeah, I think so."
"And you've kept it all this time?" you asked, impressed. He nodded proudly. "It's funny because mine looked exactly like this. Too bad I lost it... Mine had my name on the bottom of it."
"It's my lucky charm," he smiled, placing it back on the table.
"Where are your parents?" you asked curiously. It was almost midnight on a weekday and they still weren't home yet.
He shrugged, "Hell if I know. My dad moved in with his new family, I don't know where. I haven't seen him in ages. I only live with my mom and stepdad but they're always gone too. It's pretty empty in this house except when the maids come to clean or if the gardener comes."
"You don't sleep here?" You were shocked at how much things have changed and how little you now know about Michael. He shook his head, "No. Luke made room for me in his room. We bought a futon and put it in his room. I usually stay there. It sucks here."
"Your parents must make bank to afford a place like this," you sighed, admiring the place. Michael shrugged, unaffected. "They're always at work. At least, my mom is. My stepdad's cheating on her and she won't believe it. She keeps lying to herself."
"I'm so sorry," you said sympathetically. He nodded, "Yeah, it's alright. Unlike my mom, I can face the hard truth. She took it hard when my dad cheated on her and rebounded on some dickhead who isn't any better than my dad. But she won't divorce him before she doesn't want 2 failed marriages. My stepdad doesn't like me. I hate him. My mom and I fight constantly about him. And my mom and him are just..." he shook his head, cutting his sentence off. "I've said to much." He seemed slightly embarrassed. "We're barely talking again and suddenly I'm telling you my entire life story."
You let out a small smile, seeing the Michael you once knew appear again. You used to tell each other everything. All the little secret you two had. It seemed like that again with Michael opening up to you. "We've got a lot of catching up to do," you told him.
"We do," he agreed. He walked you out and hugged you goodbye.
Thursday came around and you took the 100 question final and timed essay. It was just as hard as you had anticipated. But while you took your test, you worried for Michael. The next day, as you were walking around campus, you bumped into Michael who looked more than happy to see you.
"I've been looking everywhere for you!" he smiled. He pulled out the small toy frog (his lucky charm) from his backpack and handed it to you. "So after you left, I looked at the frog and saw your name at the bottom. Sorry Y/N, I must've stolen it from you or something." You laughed and said: "Keep it, it's your lucky charm."
He smiled, "No, I think you're my lucky charm. I passed Robinson's final. I got a B on the assignment and a B on the essay!" You gasped and jumped into Michael's arms for a celebratory hug. "You are amazing," he told you.
"I'm so proud of you," you said. He bit the corner of his lip again and shyly kicked the ground a bit. "What is it?" you asked him.
"Well, when you came over my house that one night, it reminded me of how much fun we used to have when we were kids. And it reminded me of how much I missed you," he admitted. You were about to say something but he kept going. "Wait, let me finished," he said. "I know I was a bit of a dick in high school but that was because family problems got the best of me. I wanted to talk to you again and tell you everything but you were so focused on school and you had your friends - I didn't want to bother you. When I asked you to help me study, I meant it. But I also used it as an excuse to maybe, try and hang out with you again. Like old times."
"Aw Michael," you hugged him. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you too but I guess we were both afraid."
"I need you, Y/N," he said sincerely, "I need my best friend. And my lucky charm." You let out a light chuckle and nodded. "Great, so are you doing anything later? I was thinking we could hang out or something."
You nodded, "Yeah, pick me up around six. I still live in the same place."