5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Michael Imagine

Tugging on the sleeves of my sweater, I take several deep breaths and close my eyes to will away the anxiety.
A new school. New friends. New everything.
I think I'm going to despise it - well, from the looks other students are giving me, I'm going to hate it.
Every student that walks passed judges me - looking me up and down, leaning over to discuss me in between their group of friends, disgust lacing their faces as their irritation flows from them in waves.
I'm the new girl, not Ebola.
Rolling my eyes at their immaturity, their actions giving me the impression they don't get many new kids in school, I walk through the large double doors and into the stuffy, warm building.
Inside is no better.
Large groups of people line the corridor - shouting, jumping, pushing, laughing, screaming, even fighting and flirting - and I try to avoid any awkward stares and collisions with anyone as I skirt around the groups towards the office doors at the far end so that I can collect my schedule.
"Oops, sorry," a soft voice says above me, my body stumbling backwards until his arms grab my upper body and still me, "I didn't see you there."
"It's fine," I mumble quietly, eyes looking up at his pale complexion, light green eyes and flame red hair, soft pink lips that have a friendly smile on them and pierced eye brows pulled together in confusion as he takes in the new girls appearance.
"Hey-"
Before he can finish, a girl lunges at his body and he falls backwards into the locker while she giggles loudly and clings to him for dear life. I take that as my opportunity to go, though I would have liked to have at least switched names with him. Or just stared at him a bit longer.
Slipping through the slowly closing door, I quickly make my way over to the reception desk where a portly woman in her 50s is sat with a fake smile, too much makeup and a greying perm.
"How can I help?" Her voice is sickly sweet, and I want to make my introduction with her as brief as possible.
"Y/N Y/L/N. I've come to collect my schedule," I flash a quick smile, not feeling up to cracking my usual resting bitch face I wear just to please someone I don't know.
She slams down a piece of paper on the desk, another fake smile sent my way, before she points me in the direction of my first lesson.
History.
All she said was "far end of the third corridor" and I've come to the end of one corridor that splits off into 3 on either side. This school is a lot larger than my previous one, and I have no real idea where I'm going. Doesn't help that the bell rang when I was in the office, therefore the corridors are empty and I have to search the school on my own.
Great start to a first day.
After 40 minutes of searching - the first 4 sets of corridors being useless - I reach my destination and silently cheer myself when I see room 302 - History written on the door. Why doesn't it have room numbers on the schedule? This would have been so much quicker.
I tap on the door quietly, waiting for someone to acknowledge my presence and let me enter, and I really hope I don't become embarrassed in front of my new class mates that have already formed such a low opinion of me for being in full length jeans and not shorts or a skirt.
"Can I help you?" A svelte looking man in his 30s holds the door open for me, his hair gelled back and black framed glasses on his face, and a neatly pressed suit that fits his slender body well. I take a quick glance into the room to see everyone staring at me already. Great.
"Sorry, i got lost. I'm Y/N," I stutter, my voice a whisper as I look at the ground and stare at my shoes like I'm being scolded.
"Figured as much. Office doesn't exactly assist in getting new pupils around," I glance up to see him smiling lightly, and he gestures to an empty seat at the back of the room, "sit over there. Michael?"
The red haired boy from before smiles when seeing me, his arm pulling out the chair next to him as I make my way down the rows of desks to my newly assigned seat.
"Michael," he offers me his hand to shake, his skin slightly calloused as I shake his hand and over my name to him, "pretty name."
I mentally roll my eyes at the lame line and, instead, just offer him a small smile that barely moves my lips as I turn to face the front of the class room to take some form of notes from the board.
The 10 minutes I spent in class flies by, and I reluctantly get up from my seat with my schedule in my hand to begin my search for my next class room. I wonder if I can find this one in half an hour?
"Michael?" The teacher from before beckons him over before he leaves, and his shoulders slump in frustration as he turns to stop in front of his desk, "y/n?"
I stop with my hand on the door and turn to look back at the pair of them, my teacher giving me a small smile while gesturing at Michael next to him.
"I've organised it for Michael to take you to and from class for the remainder of this week. He has a pass to leave class early to come and get you - that's if your schedules clash - and take you to your assigned class rooms before leaving for his own."
"I really don't think that is necessary," I reason, not wanting to seem pathetic for having a chaperone on day 1.
"I don't want you being late for anymore classes and missing out on education," he lectures, dismissing the pair of us into the slowly emptying corridors as people rush to their next period.
"What do you have next?" Michael enquires, and I shrug as I look over my schedule and talk.
"You can go off to your next class, it seriously doesn't bother me."
"What kind of student would I be if I let the new girl navigate the halls on her own?" He winks at me with a wide grin on his face, and I have to will myself not to blush - even though I can feel the heat creeping up my neck and my face getting warmer.
"I have English."
"With Mrs Ranowska?"
"Umm yeah?" I question as I look at the schedule once more to confirm it, "yeah."
"Awesome. I'm in the same class! Maybe we can be seat buddies again," he chuckles and I feel my body ease slightly. I've been so uptight today, and I'm definitely feeling more relaxed around Michael.
"So, how long you played guitar?" I question quietly, and he furrows his brow as he looks down at me.
"How did you-"
"Your skin isn't exactly soft, it's clear you play an instrument. You seem more of a guitarist than a drummer, probably the hair and the leather jacket," I shrug, noting parts of his appearance, and he smiles at the ground and bites his lip.
"You're right. I play both. I mainly play guitar though. Do you play?"
"No. My brother does though, he was in a band back home and he's off to college to study music," I inform him and he becomes really interested in our conversation.
"Really? That's awesome. I'm in a band with some friends, it's nothing serious but we have a lot of fun doing it," he says enthusiastically, and it causes me to smile widely at his excitement over talking about something he's so passionate about.
"That's cool," I look around and see the empty corridor, "hey Michael?"
"Yeah?"
"We're late for class."
He finally looks around us and mutters a profanity under his breath at the unpopulated corridor.
"I'm not doing a very good job at chaperoning," he jokes, and I let out a light laugh, "could skip?"
"On my first day?" He nods at my question and I shake my head, "as much as I don't want to be here - like, as much as a shark wants to be on dry land - I don't think skipping so quickly into school life is such a good idea."
"Fine, I'll take you out after school instead."
"Take me out?" I ask puzzled, wondering if he means-
"On a date? Yeah," he grins at me, his hand placing itself on my lower back as he begins guide me down the corridor, "but for now, you're making me attend a school day full of boring classes. Thank you, by the way."
"You're welcome," I grin and sarcastically remark, earning a chuckle from him and hip check that causes me to stumble away from him and his laugh to echo down the corridor.