catfish // mgc

☼ f i f t y - f i v e ☼

/// can we please fucking talk about michael in blue jeans for a second cause please i am dying please send an ambulance or something pleASE fuck ///

Michael Clifford, The Chubby Chaser.

Michael Clifford's Rumored Girlfriend: The "Big" One

Michael and Mae; She's Got To Have A Good Personality Atleast, Right?

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I read each article that popped up on my Twitter time line. I knew how cruel articles could be, but I never knew how bad it actually was. And the pain that sat in my chest, I wouldn't wish on my enemy if I had one.

"Okay, what about this one?"

Kat, who'd come over a few hours ago in preparation for the concert tomorrow, handed me her phone. The top read "Michael Clifford Has A Girlfriend?!" and under that was a picture of Michael and I at the zoo, holding hands. I sighed and scanned the article.

"A fan spotted the alleged couple at a zoo in South Carolina holding hands just a few weeks ago (so cute!). While all the 5SOS boys claim they're single (we're on to you Ashton and Luke), we still ship these two adorable love birds. #machael4lyf"

I smiled softly, thankful that someone out there wasn't a complete asshole, and giggled at the ship name.

"See, people out there like you," Kat reassured me when I handed her phone back to her.

"I know," I sighed again, adjusting my glasses. "I just have to remember that not everyone is gonna like me."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I like you," she said matter-of-factly. I rolled my eyes.

"We've been friends for like, almost 15 years. You don't have a choice."

Kat laughed. "Tell me what it's like."

"Uh, well, you can be annoying sometimes but-"

"Not me, asshole!" She threw a pillow at me and I snorted.

"What's what like?" I asked, hugging the pillow to my chest.

"To love and be loved in return."

For some reason my cheeks heated up. I still wasn't used to it, being loved by someone other than my family or Kat.

"Well um," I began, trying to gather my thoughts. "It's like when you get home from a long day of school, or work or something, and you pull a fresh blanket out of the dryer and it's all nice and warm and soft and you just want to wrap yourself up burrito style for the rest of your life in your warm blanket. Or like when you see a stray cat and you smooch at it and it actually comes to you and lets you pet it. Or like when-"

"I get it," Kat laughed, her eyes full of wonder. "I always found love terrifying. Like, what if everything is just a big lie and they don't actually love you?"

"That's true," my eyebrows knitted together and I pursed my lips as I did a mental comparison of Dylan and Michael. I smiled. "I think you can tell when someone genuinely loves you. It's cliché but actions speak louder than words, y'know?"

"I guess," she shrugged, burrowing herself under the blanket. "You and Michael make it look so easy."

"It's not," I snorted, shaking my head. "I know he loves me, but sometimes it's hard. I mean like, with him being famous and all. I can't tweet anything without someone calling me a slut or saying I'm just using him. And with him being away, and being busy almost all the time, it sucks. I mean I understand it, but it fucking sucks Kat. I miss him constantly, even when he's around cause I know in just a matter of time he's gonna be gone again."