sorry not sorry ; muke af

two

they said people get drunk to forget, but michael remember everything.

he remembered how shitty his dad was, how his mother had to work three jobs a day just so michael could eat, how he cried to himself every night and thought everything would be okay.

he remembered everything.

so, this little fake red haired pal, michael clifford, drank more. he basically chugged on the bottle and lick every liquid that came out of the weirdly shaped bottle, in hope to forget everything.

oh, michael. what have you done to yourself?

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and now back to the cinamon roll of this story, luke hemmings.

in case you didn't catch it, it was luke who let michael ride him into the sunset. it was luke who had to physically dragged him out of the club.

luke was just another boy last night at the club. he saw michael walked in with a bulky tan guy. he held michael's waist so tight, luke assumed he was his boyfriend.

it was like love at a first sight, you know. luke was mesmerized by michael. the boy was so stunning, he had that glow that no one had. and oh, how luke loved it.

at the first twenty minutes, the bulky tan guy left michael all alone. he left with a peck on the cheek and then lost in the crowd.

luke gulped down his shot, contemplating on should he approach the red haired boy or not. luke shrugged, he's a bit tipsy and probably won't remember a thing after this.

it's now or never, luke. he thought

he sat down beside the red haired guy with a nervous smile. "hi," luke said.

michael turned at luke with a goofy grin, "where have you been? i'm horny."

luke gulped. shit

"um, i'm luke. what's your name?"

"baby boy," the red haired guy smirked devilishly. "it's me, michael, silly. how drunk are you, cally wally?"

"cally who?"

michael, or baby boy, groaned, "let's go to your place. i want to ride you." baby boy whispered the last part, and luke was confused.

"ride me? you brought a car?"

seriously, luke how innocent are you?

michael giggled, "no, cally wally. wait, why is your hair blonde? but it looks good so i won't protest."

our little blondie here, luke, finally gave up and decided that the club maybe made michael like this (plus the shots) so he actually took michael to his place.

they went there with a cab, since neither luke hemmings nor michael clifford brought a car.

and luke managed to asked michael his phone number, though.

when they arrived at luke's apartment, everything went down hill from there.

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(a/n) i'm so into this new writing style lmao lmao

-bia