November Rain // muke

chapter two

Michael

"Please, for the love of all that is holy, Michael Clifford do not scare our new neighbors off. We want to make friends, not enemies." His mum warned him and he laughed loudly as he caught a small red handball inside of his hand.

"Me? Scary?" He asked and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not scary. All I do is wear black clothes and listen to rock n' roll."

"Just please... try to actually look normal for once." She begged him, and Michael sighed. "No overly ripped jeans or black on black on black on freaking black."

"No promises mama, my closet is only so full." He chuckled, uncrossing his legs as he sat up. "So, who's coming over?"

"They aren't coming over here. We're going to their house since we haven't had any furniture but our beds and couches come in. They also have a son your age too, so your father and I won't be the only ones making new friends." She told him and Michael nodded.

"Alright then. Don't worry about it, I won't look satanic tonight." Michael joked and his mum let out a breath of relief as he tossed the ball back against his wall. She left his room right after their little chat, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Neighbors. He really doesn't miss meeting their new neighbors, a routine they do every single time they move, but he can't deny that he's slightly excited this time.

He genuinely hopes it's that boy from across the street, the one with pretty blonde curls and a little flower in his hair. He kind of wants to get to know him, ask him why he wears the clothes he does and why he was staring earlier. It wasn't exactly normal for guys to wear clothes that showed their stomach so much, or to even wear denim jackets in such a baby pink shade. Not that it wasn't cute - it was fucking adorable, but it was kind of weird.

Maybe he can figure out if the boy is gay too, so he's not caught up thinking about someone who could never feel the same. He hates falling for straight guys.

"Please let him be as straight as his hair." Michael murmured, sighing in boredom as he continuously caught the red handball after throwing it at the wall.

This was possibly the worst part about moving. There's a solid twenty-four hours where he's stuck with everything but the things he enjoys. Yeah he had his phone on him, but he doesn't have his guitars, his video games, or even his TV. The three things he probably couldn't live without even if he wanted to.

It's gonna be a long day and night, he thought to himself as he looked out his window to the house across the street.

-

"Oh thank God," Michael's father muttered as he came downstairs. "You didn't put on that one jacket you love so much-"

"Oh, the ripped one?" Michael asked as he looked at his solid, rip free denim jacket. "I mean... I can go get it if you want-"

"No. Absolutely not." His mom cut in and he laughed as he pushed his silver fringe out of his face.

"I was kidding mama, calm down. I don't wanna go back upstairs anyways, it's too much exercise." He rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall. "Are we leaving now?"

"Yeah, are you ready?" She asked and he nodded as he headed towards the front door. "Okay. Okay, let's go now."

Michael unlocked the front door and then opened it, apologizing to his mom as it nearly hit her. "Did see ya' there, you're kinda short."

"Ha ha ha. Just go." She told him and Michael could feel the chilly wind bite at his skin through the holes in his black jeans. It wasn't bad though, he liked the cold.

When his parents went to cross the street, he felt his heart race. Were they going to that boy's house? The one who dresses like a girl? Because if so, maybe Michael should have put on cologne instead of only working off the scent of his laundry detergent, body wash, and shampoo.

Shit.

His parents walked up to the front door of the boy's house and Michael was biting the inside of his cheek as he slipped his hands inside of his front pockets. They waited a few moments, until suddenly a woman was opening the door, and she had the biggest smile he's seen all day. It was kind of creepy, but only kind of because he just wasn't used to people smiling around him.

She was short, slightly chubby, and had blonde hair that matched her son's almost identically. She didn't dress up too much, blue jeans with a simple purple blouse, but it's okay seeing as Michael has holes in his jeans, four too many to let him make fun of someone's attire without feeling guilty.

"Hi! Welcome! Come in, come in!" She beamed, and Michael let his parents walk in first. He could feel the heat come from the inside of the house, and though he wasn't cold, he knew his parents might be.

"Thank you." Michael smiled politely and the lady nodded, giving his outfit a once over before turning towards his parents.

"I'm Liz, it's nice to meet you." She finally introduced herself and they shook hands. A moment of silence fell, and Michael took this as a chance to look around their house, or whatever he could see.

It was all neat and pretty, pristine carpets and healthy plant filled vases. Picture frames were hung up on the wall and the wooden flooring seemed to shine and shimmer under the warm lighting. The modern look of white accented with dark colours was genius, and Michael thought that it was just a beautiful house, with gorgeous decorations.

"Hello there, I'm Andrew." A man spoke up as he came from behind a wall. He was tall with his shoulders pushed back and a heavy thump to his footsteps as he approached.

Confidence. He screamed confidence.

They all shook hands once again, and Michael's eyes caught movements from the stairs. He saw the same boy from earlier, only this time he was dressed in something slightly less feminine. He still had a crop top, but he changed his pink jacket and shoes for something darker - something black.

Was it even possible to look so good?

"This is our son, Luke." Andrew spoke and Luke gave the smallest, most timid wave to them as he bit down on his glossy pink lip.

Michael's family introduced themselves, and Luke caught Michael's gaze as he held a hand out. "I'm Michael." He told them, and Luke's thinner hand held his before shaking it.

Luke has the prettiest blue eyes that Michael's ever seen, and he thinks they're also framed by mascara coated lashes? Was he wearing makeup?

It was weird, unsual even, for him to see boys in makeup that's not smeared eyeliner in a failed attempt to be some punk rocker. He will admit that he liked it though. He liked the slight shimmer on Luke's nose, the gloss on his pouty lips, and the dark, long lashes he seemed to have. It just worked on him.

"Michael?"

He hummed, snapping out of his gaze. He looked around, finding that their parents had left them alone and Luke was standing directly infront of him with rose red cheeks. "Yeah?" He asked, and Luke nodded upstairs.

"Would you like to come upstairs with me?" He asked, and Michael couldn't believe this kid. Polite and gorgeous? Where has he been all his life?

Please be gay. Please be gay, Michael chanted in his head before nodding.

"Sure..." Michael agreed, following the blonde upstairs to his room.