Badboy // M.C.

Chapter 11

Songs:

-My Only One by All Time Low

-Carry You by Union J

-Trumpets by Jason Derulo

-Feeling Good by Michael Bublé

"Hello," Michael smiles.

"Come in, my parents are just finishing dinner," I say. "I promise to make this as painless as possible," I add in a whisper.

I hang his jacket on our stupid coat rack and drag him inside.

"Hi. You must be Michael," my father comes walking in the living room and holds his hand out to shake.

"Hi, Mr. Webster," he shakes my dad's hand.

"I see you have a few tattoos."

"Yeah. I've always liked the way tattoos looked," he claims shyly. And I can feel my dad silently judging him.

"Is that an Australian accent?" my dad asks. I've notice this before, but I never asked him about it.

"Yes. I'm from Sydney. We moved here when I was 15 when my dad got a promotion for work."

"I love Sydney. We took a family trip there a few years ago," my dad makes conversation.

Before Michael has the chance to respond, my mom shouts that dinner is ready. Alex descends from his room and comes down the stairs.

"Hi, Michael," he says awkwardly.

"Hey," my boyfriend responds just as awkwardly.

We go into the dining room and I just want to get this over with. I didn't really want Michael to come, but I knew he had to if we were going to be in an actual relationship. I don't want to put him through this.

"Tell us about yourself," my mother says passing the food around.

"Well, I'm from Sydney. My dad works for some fancy company. I don't even really know," he laughs lightly.

"What's your last name, Michael?" my dad inquires.

"Clifford."

"As in Richard Clifford?"

"Yeah. He's my dad."

"I though you looked familiar. I know Rich. He's a good guy."

That wasn't expected, although it should have been. My dad knows just about every rich and businessy person within a 50 mile radius.

"What about your mother?" my mom asks. Oh God!

"Um... she's... uh... she's dead."

"I so sorry!" my mom blurts.

"It's fine, really," Michael says cooly.

I'm not really loving how this is going so far, and it's only beginning. I don't really appreciate my parents wanting to do this with every single time somebody of the opposite sex walks through the door.

"And what do you want to do? After high school?" my dad asks.

"I want to stay as involved with music as I can. I'm actually in a little band thing," he smiles. He's talking about something he actually enjoys talking about.

"And do you intend to go to college?" Alex asks.

"I'd like to. There's not really anything stopping me. I just have no idea where I would even go."

"What about your band?" Alex says.

"If everything works out, I would love to go big and tour or something, but that's pretty hard to do."