deluded ♔ hemmings

michael, grow up

deluded; michael, grow up

b l a k e

        I'm going to strangle them.

That's all I could think about as I try and focus on writing my English paper. It's my last year of high school, and I'll be damned if I let my brother and his friends be the reason I fail.

        Just block the music out. Just block the music out, Blake.

        I repeat in my head. However, the thoughts running through my head actually make the situation worse. How the hell am I supposed to write if I have thoughts running through my mind that aren't related to the five-page English paper, and loud ass music coming from downstairs?

        With a groan, I stand up, making my way over to my door, and then down the stairs. As I walk down the stairs the music only gets louder, and I can hear the laughs of my brother and his friends.

        Standing at the bottom of the stairs I see the four of them huddled around the TV, playing some video game. Why does that not surprise me?

        "Do you guys think you could turn the music down before I throw the damn speakers in the pool? I'm trying to write a paper."

        My words go unnoticed as the four continue to play their game. Of course, they can't hear me.

        I close my eyes, clench my fists, then reopen my eyes. As I scan the room, looking for the speakers, a smirk makes its way onto my lips. I walk over to the back wall by the kitchen, once again going unnoticed by the boys. Wrapping a hand around the plug, I pull it from the wall in one swift motion. The sound of the music instantly shuts off, causing the four to turn around and look at me.

        Oh, so now they notice me.

        "What the fuck, Blake?" My brother, Cal, looks at me, the controller that was once in his hand now on the couch beside him. He crosses his arms over his chest, looking at me with a slight glare.

        "I'm trying to write a paper and I can't concentrate with the sound of Blink-182 filling the house." My words come out calm as I shrug, twirling the plug around slightly. "I asked you guys to turn it down, but clearly you couldn't hear me."

        "So you had to turn the music off? You couldn't just turn it down?" Michael groans softly, looking at me with a frown.

        "Michael, grow up," I speak, trying to look serious, but probably failing due to the small smile on my face.

        "Sorry, Blake. We'll keep it down." Ashton apologizes, making my smile widen.

        Michael Clifford, and Ashton Irwin.

        I've known these two for about nine years, and I can honestly say they're like my brothers. They're annoying, sometimes rude, but at the end of the day, I'll always love them.

        They always know how to make me smile, and laugh. Michael even threatened a kid when I was fifteen because he called me ugly. I came home from school crying while Michael and Cal were hanging out. They demanded to know what was wrong, so I told them. The next day, Michael took me to school and made me point the kid out. I'll never forget what he said.

       "Now you listen to me, boy. Blake is nowhere near ugly. She is beautiful and kind, and you're just too much of an idiot to realize it. If you ever say anything rude about her again, I'll be sure to haunt your dreams until you're forced to crawl back into bed with mommy."