FanMail | Malum

^Five^

{um, this is full on girly! Michael now, Sorry if that bothers you}

[miss_lovatic ]

Dearest Ashton,

i legit want to suck your dick bruh Bc i hear it's massive

Love always,

Kayla.

P.s. You should let me tour with y'all Bc I'm flawless

Dear Kayla,

Unfortunately, i ain't about that life.

But 20$ is 20$ so

Ashxx

P.s ok fine

----

Michael's P.O.V.

I like to feel pretty.

It's something i'm proud of, something I've always known about myself.

From flowers to panties, it delights me.

It's just something i don't make obvious about myself because it doesn't define me, it doesn't make me a bad person because of it. I like guitar, bands, video games, I'm human. So i don't want to be known as 'the dude who wears girly stuff' because there's so much more to me as person.

Or maybe I'm just too paranoid to accept myself, either way.

The shirts and lipsticks are from the privacy of my own bedroom. When I'm not stalking Calum on Twitter, or watching YouTube endlessly, I'm trying different makeup styles or outfits with a panic {at the disco} in my stomach that mother might walk in on me.

I wonder if Calum would still like me if he knew I was like this. I doubt it.

All I know is, I've been avoiding this very day forever and it's finally come. I'm sitting at my full length mirror, legs crossed, pastel pink skirt adorned, lipstick mid way to my mouth when i hear a light knock at my door. I usually do this at night, but today was desperate. Today, I needed to feel myself. [a/n: Omfg I'm crying]

"Shit," I mutter under my breath. That could be anyone. I have no time left to do anything, before the door is swinging open, and someone steps inside my room.

I seriously need to learn how to lock my door.

Putting my tube of makeup down slowly, i keep my eyeshadow covered eyes trailed to the carpet, staring at it as if it was the most intriguing thing in the world. Whoever has entered my bedroom is not saying anything, so I keep quiet, my black knee high socks suddenly making me feel uncomfortable rather than pretty now.

I feel a presence dip beside me to sit, and I take a breathe of relief. It's not my asshole of a 'boyfriend' then. He'd flip the fuck out if he saw me this way.

"Mikey..." I stop clutching my fists together so tightly after hearing that voice. It's Hannah, my best (and only friend) in the entire world since kindergarten. I trail my eyes over to hers slowly, exhaling when I see no judgment in her eyes, only curiosity. "Mikey," she says again, tucking some of her brown hair behind her ear.

"Brown is so not your color." I stare at her incredulously for a few moments before we both burst into uncontrollable laughter. I'm gasping for air trying to get my words out.

"S-says you! Your eyeliner looks like a hog that covered it's eyes with shit before applying!"

"What the hell, Mike?!" We just laugh some more before she takes my hand. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm a beauty guru you know, I could've been helping you this entire time." I grin.