This Year's Love // Michael Clifford

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

Brittany Dawson

"I am literally screaming," I exaggerate. "I seriously cannot even breathe."

"You're neither screaming nor are you breathless," Michael says. "Your exaggerations are uplifting, though."

"I can't believe you got us Hoodie Allen tickets," I squeal for the hundredth time since the day Michael gave me the random gift.

"Well, I hope you believe it because we're here," he announces.

"Oh my god," I exhale, stepping out of the car before Michael even turns it off.

The venue was small. I didn't expect it to be big, but it was really small. Hoodie Allen isn't that popular so it's fairly understandable.

"I can't believe you like this guy," Michael comments as we begin walking towards the door.

"Hey, fuck you," I scowl. "He fucking rocks."

"He raps, Brittany," he replies.

"Yeah, but he's the best rapper ever. I seriously hate this genre of music, but you know I make an exception for Hoodie," I explain.

"I know, baby."

Michael grabs my hand as we walk. I swing them in between us, then open the door myself when we approach it. The inside is crowded, I will say, but that could have to do with the fact that Hoodie is doing a mini meet and greet before the show.

"And we get to fucking meet him," I make note. "How cool is this guy? The coolest."

"You didn't even get this wet when I touched you last week," Michael complains.

"I'm not wet, you pervert," I scold him.

"Still," he mutters.

We stand in the back of the line as we wait for it to shorten up. When we get near the front where Hoodie is, I feel my stomach churn. I'm about to meet the guy I've listened to since I was a sophomore in high school. I am not ready.

"Oh my god," I mutter under my breath.

"Yo!" Hoodie exclaims.

Should I call him Hoodie? Or should I call him Hoodie Allen? Would it be weird if I just called him Steven?

"Hey," Michael greets.

"What's up?" Hoodie asks.

"Not much, dude." Michael nonchalantly shrugs.

"What's up? What's your name?" Hoodie directs towards me.

"Steven. Wait, no. Brittany. I'm Brittany. You're Steven. Uh," I stammer.

Hoodie laughs. "You can call me Hoodie. Not Steven. Never call me Steven."

"Sorry." I blush.

"Thanks for the tickets again," Michael says.

"No problem, bro. Your band rocks," Hoodie replies.

So Hoodie gave Michael the tickets directly? Weird.

"Thanks, man. Brittany's a huge ass fan," Michael babbles.

I feel my cheeks heat up. "Yeah, something like that," I mutter.

"Cool. Do you want a picture and autograph or something?" Hoodie asks.

"Yeah." I nod. "That'd be awesome."

I hand my phone to Michael. I stand next to Hoodie and he wraps his arm around my waist (I almost fainted). We both smile for the photo. Michael takes a few before handing my phone back.

"What do you want me to sign?" Hoodie asks.

"Um, I guess my shirt," I reply.

He signs my shirt on my back shoulder blade, then Michael hands me a phone because he wanted a photo with Hoodie, too. Afterwards, we move along into the stadium. I was still starstruck about what had just happened.

"Thank you so much, baby," I say to Michael, kissing his cheek. "That was awesome."

"Of course," Michael replies, squeezing my hand.

An hour later and the concert was starting. I was jumping up and down from excitement. When Hoodie came up on stage, the entire venue erupted in screams and cheers.

"I'm gonna start with something old of mine," Hoodie says into his mic. "I'm gonna bring my bro Chiddy Bang out here with me."

When everyone realizes what song Hoodie is about to rap, the chants grow louder. Michael (who doesn't know Hoodie's music that much) even knows the song that's about to be rapped (as it is one of my favorites and I often play it on my phone).

"Yeah, yeah. First team, bitch. Stop. Hoodie Time."

I begin to rap along to Fame is For Assholes. I'm jumping up and down and screaming along with everyone else.

"Talk to me. Tell me your name. You want my life, I want the same. You say that it's meant to be, meant to be. You ain't no celebrity. So stop 'cause fame is for assholes."

////////

"That was so fun!" I screech, squeezing Michael's bicep as we crossed the street to reach our car.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he says smiling down at me.

"Thanks so much again," I say, leaning up against the driver's door as we near our destination.

Michael places his hands on either side of my face, leaning into me. "You're welcome," he says, bending down and kissing me.

"I love you," I say softly, touching his cheek and peering into his eyes.

"I love you, angel."

"I'm leaving in a week," I remind him.

"I know."

I frown. "I'm going to miss you," I say.

"I'll miss you, too," he replies. "But let's not worry about it. The night's still young."

"It's like midnight," I laugh.

"Yeah, but I have something planned for us back at the hotel."

"Oh?" I question, raising my eyebrows.

"Yes, now get in the car so we can hurry up and get there," Michael says.

I kiss him one last time before walking around to my side of the car. I hop in and soon we're off.

I wonder what Michael's surprise is.

///////

Michael's surprise will come about in the next chapter. It's going to be rather.... interesting ;)

Sorry for not updating in ages. School has been nuts and I actually have a life outside of fandoms. Imagine that! haha.

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