M I K E Y
You watched from side stage as your dark-haired and green-eyed boyfriend strummed the black and white electric guitar in his hands. He glanced over at you, and you gave him a small thumbs up, making his entire face light up. When the song came to an end, Michael walked up to the microphone, running a hand over his hair. "This next song is for someone extremely special to me," He smiled, looking out into the crowd. "I only hope that she feels the same way as I do." He turned towards you slightly and gave you a little wink as the opening chords to Remembering Sunday began to play. You smiled widely as he sang along. Your smile dropped when he walked over to you and tried to take you out on stage. "Mikey, you know I don't like being out there..." you protested, but he only tugged on your arm harder. "Come on," he whispered. "There's something I have to do," His mischievous grin lead you to follow him out in front of the blinding lights. He held your hand as the crowd cheered and his bandmates sang the next verse. Right on cue, Michael knelt down as soon as Luke sang "I'm gonna ask her to marry me". Tears pricked your eyes as Michael smiled up at you, ring in hand. "You're so cheesy," you laughed through tears. "So is that a yes?"
C A L
You sat on the edge of your seat, literally, as your long-term boyfriend, Calum Hood, dribbled the black and white ball up the sidelines, angling his hips perfectly to shoot the goal. He pulled his foot back and the goalie braced himself for the shot, squatting down slightly and readying his hands as the up the field. Everything seemed as if it were in slow motion. You grabbed Ashton's arm as the ball flew forward. The goalie dove, and the ball spun off of his fingertips, hitting off of the side of the ball, and perfectly into the middle of the net. You were probably the first to stand up and cheer, shortly followed by everyone else. "Oh my God!" You squealed, just as the referee blew the whistle for . You bolted out onto the field soon as you could and threw your arms around your tall, muscular, dark-haired boyfriend. "That goal was for you," he panted into your ear, holding you tightly. "Happy anniversary," you smiled into his shoulder. "Now, let's get home. I'm whipped, and the only thing I want to be doing is curling up with you on the couch and watching a lame chick flick like you always insist on doing." His eyes crinkled up as he smiled at you.
A S H
You watched your boyfriend as the cameras flashed in his face, smiling ever so slightly, wondering how you got so lucky. He wasn't smiling, but there were still faint traces of dimples on his cheeks as he looked at a photographer with puppy dog eyes under long lashes, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. "Alright, that's a wrap. Good job, Ashton," the coordinator said. Ashton's walked over to him and whispered a few things, then gave a small wave towards your direction. Ashton looked over, and his eyes met yours, widening in shock. "(Y/n)!" He shouted, sprinting towards you. You looked at his black shirt, dark-washed jeans, and white Converse All-Stars. "Wow," You smirked. "You look like you could be a model," you feigned shock. He laughed. "I missed your sarcastic attitude so much," he murmured, resting his head on yours. "I missed you, too," you grinned enthusiastically and he stepped back, slinging an arm around your shoulder.
L U K E Y
You never wanted to come to Luke's matches, but you always felt as if you had to. He told you repeatedly that it was no big deal, but you wanted to be there to support him. Now, you winced as Luke's opponent landed a punch square on his jaw. You could see the rage in Luke's eyes, a rare expression for him, as he raised his arms to block the next blow. He was able to slip one of his arms down long enough to position himself for an uppercut and successfully pull off the move. His opponent's head snapped back, and Luke followed with a series of punches before the muscular man fell to the ground and the referee called knock out.You put your head in your hands, smiling wildly. He'd done it. You got up and made your way over to his bench, where he met you with open arms. "Gross, you're all sweaty," you scrunched up your nose, trying to push him away. "Aw, you know you want this," he chuckled as you allowed him to pull you tightly to himself. "I did it," he whispered into your hair, making you grin. "I'm so proud of you, Lukey," you sighed happily, burrying your face deeper into his bare chest.
