They said I was just a fangirl. That my "love" for this band, and in particularly, Michael Clifford, was all a phase in my life. Some stupid "crush" I'll get over within a few months. Well, it's been more than a year, so why can't I stop loving him to death? Because trust me, I tried...

"Have you ever considered for like a second," I rolled my eyes at him immediately, "let me finish. Just a second, to try something your little uptight friends would disapprove of." I thought about it. "Obviously, I can't recall anything I have ever tried. Not a fair proposition." I sighed. This amnesia shit was beyond frustrating. "Even better. Think of anything. Something you've seen on a movie, read in a book, saw on MTV. Go wild." I smirked. I was going to do just that. "I don't remember ever getting high in the parking lot of a pizza place, then going inside to eat a shit ton of pizza." I smiled at the music video I still remember ogling at when I was ten, wanting desperately to be a teenager. "You got it." he started the car, and another unpredictable night began. In the midst of regaining her memory and getting her life back to where it was, everything gets twisted, to say the least- all thanks to one boy.

"The last person she expected to see standing on the other side of that door was Michael Clifford."

"I remember you." His words stun me. I know for a fact that I have never once actually met him. Copyright © 2015 by 5secofstfu All rights reserved.

dear damn diary, i hate myself for loving michael clifford. - carmina

her heart belonged to someone who couldn't stay.

Book #1 in the 'Texting Mikey' series A fan meets Michael Clifford over text. (COMPLETED 9/17/15) <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (Unknown number): 'hey Luke, can I come over? I'm so glad you gave me your new phone number. Could you imagine if I kept texting your old number??' Clarissa: 'excuse me? I think you may have the wrong number.' (Unknown number): 'oh, okay. Sorry love. What's your name?' --------------------------------------------------

Seventeen year old Elle Brooks knew she was going to behavioral camp. What she didn't know was that a certain boy with dyed hair was going to make it a lot more complicated.

"Clayne, can you come over? like, right now?" "no, Michael, i can't. i'm busy." "babe, please..." "seriously, what in the fücking hell do you want?" "uhh-well, I was just wondering if you could help me out in here because. .. . ugh! dammit Clayne, i'm horny as fuck today." "Michael Gordon Clifford, you know what? fuck you." // in which her bestfriend is one of a constantly horny guy; horny » m.g.c