College years

The player

This chapter is dedicated to StaceyStonier for voting for earlier chapters.

I swear they are absolutely crazy. How the hell would I, Michael Clifford, get a scholarship to anything. I never cared about school. I never cared about anything really but somehow my uncle managed to convince the dean that I was worthy of a scholarship with early admission. He must be able to control minds or something. It's practically impossible. Yet he managed to do it. He couldn't have used facts because I barely turned up for school, and when I did it was only to find another girl to hook up with. Because I was never in school, I never took tests and so I failed on default. I didn't care anyway. I already had my life planned out. Music. Music is the one thing that I really care about. I was going to be in a band with my amazing guitar skills. There was only one flaw in that plan. I needed a band. all the other bands that I had been in previously had never lived up to my high standards, I left and they fell flat on their faces. they needed me but I didn't need them. Well, I did but they just weren't good enough. I'm actually embarrassed to admit to being in some of these bands, even if it was only for a short time (the shortest time was three and a half hours). But anyway, here I am. Sitting in my dorm room, waiting for my new room mate.

The last room mate that I had was a complete control freak and he always insisted that everything was tidy and in order, but I'm me so that was never the case, and so he got moved as soon as the term ended and there were rooms available. I was glad to be honest. That guy creeped me out. Not just his weird obsession with tidiness but his biology posters on his side of the room. There was many nights where I couldn't sleep because of the giant half dissected frog staring across at me. I wonder what happened in his childhood to make him so disturbed. Something must have happened because every time I said his name or touched his shoulder to get his attention, he flinched. Maybe he was just scared of me. there was normally a different girl in my bed several times a week but that didn't bother me. Maybe it bothered him.

Anyway, all I was told about my new room mate is that his name is Ashton Irwin and he would be arriving that day. I also found out that he was a year older than me but would be in the same year as me because he had taken a gap year. Lucky boy. I wasn't given a gap year. I wasn't even given the option of a gap year. Just carted away, to the other side of the planet. I can't blame my parents though. All I did was cause trouble and taint their image. I'm not the best at first at first impressions. Or second impressions. Or any number after that. I have never made a good impression. Only bad ones. The only good first impressions that I have ever made were to the girls that I later slept with and then never spoke to again so it didn't last.

I was getting late and I was actually getting bored of scrolling through my twitter feed, when I heard a key in the lock. Seconds later, a soggy boy stepped through the door way, dripping water all over the carpet. It's not like I cared anyway.

"Ashton Irwin?" I lifted my head to ask him the question. He nodded in response. "I'm Michael Clifford. Welcome to 2.3B. Come join the party." He laughed under his breath and shook his head.

"I think I've heard that name before." Ashton spoke in a similar accent to mine.

"I doubt it. Where are you from? I recognise your accent." I scoffed

"Australia. Sydney to be exact." He said, making his way over to the unmade bed.

"I knew it." I placed my hands behind my head and leant back against the headboard.

"Knew what?" He asked.

"That you were a fellow Aussie."

"You're Australian? I couldn't tell." He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side.