Clifford the Red Headed Big Shot

chapter nine

That's how I ended up in jail for a night.

"You get one phone call," the police officer said. "Make it quick."

The only person I knew well enough in this town was Christian, but he was kind of in the hospital and I doubted he wanted to bail me out of jail after he was the reason I was in here anyway.

There was only one person I could possibly call.

"Hi, Michael? I'm in a bit of a pickle."

-

Michael showed up looking hotter than ever. His red hair, his leather jacket, his skinny jeans, a toothpick between his teeth. Damn.

"So, what are you in for?" He asked from the outside of the cell. The smirk on his face gave me butterflies.

"I punched this guy in the nose and he was unconscious." I shrugged. "I need you to bail me out."

He sighed. "I don't know. It might put a dent in our wedding savings."

I rolled my eyes and playfully punched him on the arm. "C'mon. Get me outta this joint."

"Hey now, don't go punching people. That's what got you here in the first place."

He soon bailed me out and we walked out of the police station, only to be stopped by a swarm of paparazzi.

"Oh" was all Michael said. He grabbed my hand and politely pushed passed all of the microphones and cameras.

"Michael Clifford! You're in the hottest new band of the year! What are you doing bailing random people out of jail?" One interviewer yelled, shoving the microphone in Michael's face.

"I'm not bailing random people out of jail. I'm doing a favor for a close friend of mine. It doesn't deserve all this attention. Really," Michael replied politely. He squeezed my hand and we continued to walk. We got into his black van and started to drive away.

"That was weird," I stated blankly.

"What?"

"I don't know. It's just--You. You're famous. It's weird. Like, now everybody in the world knows 5 Seconds of Summer. And you're not just Clifford the green haired guy. You're Clifford the red-headed big shot. You're not just my little secret anymore."

Michael grinned slightly and rested his hand on my thigh. "I'll always be yours."

I took a deep breath and looked into his green eyes.

"Like seriously," he said, "Even if you hate me, I'll always be there. Watching. Waiting."

"Waiting for what?" I giggled.

"I don't know. Something amazing, I guess. Like for you to realize you're still madly in love with me." He smiled. "And that you need me as much I need you."

"But you're a big shot now. You don't need me dragging you down."

"It's not called dragging me down. It's called keeping me grounded."

Well, that did it.

I was still in love with him. I did want to spend the rest of my life with him. I just didn't see how it was possible. I had a job. I had a life. Without him.

But the thing was, I hated my life without him.

I had spent all these months pretending to be happy. Pretending I was someone totally different than the girl back in Sydney. I had denied myself happiness. I was looking too far ahead in my future.

Then, as Michael sat there, his hand on my thigh, his green eyes staring at me like I was made of universes, I thought, To hell with the future. I want to be happy now. Why do I have to worry about the life ahead of me? I want to live in the present. So that's what I'm gonna do.

"Hey, Mikey," I whispered. "I'll always be yours."