twelve: better

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CHAPTER TWELVE:

| michael’s pov |

“I’ll see you again, I hope,” Belle said, taking my hand in hers to shake it. I tensed up at her sudden touch, but I was more worried about my sweaty palms and other insecurities.

All I did was nod and give her a small smile, which she tried to return. Tried to. It was like after I asked her about Ashton, silence sunk in. 

None of us attempted to talk anymore.

I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn't know what to ask.

What was your first impression of me? 

Do you like me?

Will you try to talk to me if I was Ashton?

I wasn’t as stupid to not know there was something going on between the two of them- Ashton and Belle. 

I didn’t know what exactly they are, but I wanted to know, badly.

“Yeah,” was all I told her, before turning on my heel and walking away. A handshake wasn’t enough for me, but I was almost sure that that was more than enough for her.

She doesn't like me, that's why.

Well, what could I expect, anyway?

Ashton was, by a million miles, better. 

I couldn’t stand a chance against him; I never could. Why would you spend a day with someone like me, when you could spend a minute with him?

My finger pressed the elevator button multiple times, thinking it would make it arrive faster. I just wanted to get out of here and get back home. I wanted to forget this ever happened, forget the subtle rejection. 

Though thinking about it now, I understood Belle. I didn’t like myself, either, why would she? I was just a boy from Sydney. I was just a fanboy from Sydney. 

That was all I was.

That was all I’d ever be.

fanboy ↦ michael clifford {au}Where stories live. Discover now