Fly // 5sos au

13

I didn’t see my father or Carrie for the rest of the day. We just watched Mikey watch his American Horror story marathon. I was a little creeped out at some parts, but it was really funny to merely see Michael’s facial expressions. Still, I was zoned out. I left couches and went to my room, I had to be alone. I felt like I was being suffocated by their carefree personlatlies.

I need to change, I thought as I passed my mirror. I let my hair out of its tight bun and frowned. My long dark hair was another reminder of Raven because she never let me cut it. I was only allowed to keep it in a tight bun in the middle of my head, so I didn’t understand the big deal, but then again my opinion didn’t matter. As I looked at my hair, I noticed the random ridges in it. I smiled at it, because my mother’s hair was pinned straight, and I was different. It almost felt okay to be different. Our hair color contrasted too, mine brown and her’s blonde. It was safe to say I looked more like my dad, but I felt like she was written all over me. I looked plain, with my hair up. With it down, I could pass for something worth looking at.

 I hated my face; it was hollow and colorless beside the light freckles that littered my face. My eyes weren’t as almond like as Calum’s, but they weren’t fully Caucasian either. They were a honey brown, with a stripe or two of green, but you couldn’t notice unless you got close enough. There wasn’t anything extraordinary about me.

I cupped my face, smoothing it out as I tried to think of what I wanted. I was done with being a shy and cowardice girl; it was time to grow up. Hanging around the boys for even two days changed me enough, and they will probably help me more in the future, so I felt my appearance should evolve with it.  But I didn’t even know where to start.

Giggles were heard so I excited my room, deciding that I had looked at my disgraced face. I erupted into a fit of breath taking guffaws as I looked at Michael’s hair.

“What?” I managed to get out as I clutched my stomach from laughing pains.

“You dipshit!” Michael yelled at Luke, who couldn’t stop his laughter either. His pink hair was tarnished by random spots of blue. Calum looked like he hadn’t processed respiration in minutes, and Ashton’s words were inaudible.

In the minutes following, I learned that Michael had already dyed his hair blue, and he wanted white. Why anybody would want white hair still confuses me to this day, but Luke pranked him by giving him, quote, “Rainbow Dash-esq-Hair”. Luke proceeded to actually dye his hair the color he wanted. The girlish banter slowly died down, and I found myself looking at the dye bottle. I tried to imagine myself with blue hair, but it seemed out of this world.

“Michael?” I asked gingerly.

“Hmmm?”

“Could you dye my tips blue? Just in case I don’t like it?” The idea popped, it didn’t seem too risky if I could cut it off if it didn’t suit me. A devilish grin crept on his face.

“OF COURSE!” Michael screeched, and the boys gave me questioning faces.

“’Of course’ what?” Luke interrogated, CAUTION written across his forehead.

“I’m dying her hair!” He stood out of his kitchen stool, patting the seat. I rolled my eyes for the first time, but still obeyed.

“Are you sure A? Michael’s pretty stupid,” Calum warned. I gave a heads up, too jittery to speak.

The words you called me after Mikey was done with my words are inprinted in my memory like a branded cow:"Hella rad".  I only knew myself as ordinary, but you cahanged my view on myself. I'm not plain anymore. I'm hella rad. Luke Robert [Love of my Life] Hemmings, you are hella rad. Don't forget it, beautiful.

(HeY tHeRe It Is SUPERB OWL DAY. >colbeart ugh< I WENT TO THE FESIVAL THING THERE WAS NOTHING OKAY happy superbowl sunday or whatever

Should I even countinue doing this anymore?-m)