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(Bad era-- Michael isn't famous in this imagine, and he does not sing or dance. He is 21 years old, and you are 18)
(Chrismas is in this imagine, and he plays your older brother)
Author POV
Michael walked through the alleyway whilst his friends conversed. He watched his feet and was just dreading having to go home. His father was pretty absent in his life and when he was around he was drunk and beating on Michael and his siblings.
"Mike? You good, man?" Max asks, nudging Michael a bit, knocking him out of his thoughts.
"What? Oh yeah. I'm alright. I should probably get home. My mom's prolly trippin' right now." Michael says, turning and shaking Mini Max's hand and walking in the direction of his house.
"Aight man. Be safe." Max shouts behind Michael, to which Michael raises his hand in acknowledgment.
Michael began to walk to his home in Boyle Heights. As he walked, leaves crunched under his shoes, and the wind blew causing him to pull his dark grey coat closer to himself. The sidewalks were empty, besides cars on the road and papers flying around freely on the ground. The autumn night air was nippy, but the sky was a dark shade of blue and clear. The moon was full allowing a nice white light to be out, but no stars could be seen.
Michael POV
I approach my apartment complex and take a deep breath. I push open the glass door to the complex and make my way up the grey carpeted stairs to my flat. Before I even get 5 feet to the door I can hear my mother screaming and what sounds like things being thrown. Shit. I gulp and tap my foot anxiously deciding if I want to even go home tonight. I had been spending a few nights at Mini Max's house since my parents couldn't seem to stop arguing. I hadn't been home in about a week, and I'm sure they didn't care where I was.
I shake my head and make my way down the hall to Chris's house. He lived on the other side of our complex along with his sister. The rest of his family was in New York, but he was making his own living by his own. We'd been friends ever since he first moved into this complex when he was 19. That was 4 years ago and now he was like my big brother, and his home was like my hideout.
Once I finally reach Chris's door, I eagerly knock on the door, checking my surroundings.
Loud footsteps approach the door, and I can hear Chris's muffled voice. "It's well after 9, and I don't know that boy!" Finally, the door opens and Chris turns his face in my direction, his eyebrows crinkled in frustration.
"Mike!"
You
I flop down on my bed and peered out my window. my white sheer curtains lined my window and the moonlight poured into my bedroom, along with my blue lamp on my dresser. I had wanted to go out with a few of my friends, but Chris found out that 2 of them were boys and he wasn't having it. I understood Chris's overprotectiveness over me, especially after what happened in New York. But I still wanted to live and have a bit of fun for once.
I got up and walked down the hallway, and abruptly stopped. Michael, Chris's best friend was sitting at the kitchen table, and Chris was nowhere to be found. I had always been around Michael, but it was usually uncomfortable silences or short conversations. He seemed like a cool guy, and he sounded really sweet. But Chris didn't have sweet friends. They all were something. Killers, Shooters, robbers. Something.
We made eye contact and we just sat there for what felt like forever. "Hi, Y/N," Michael says, breaking our stare. "Hey." I shyly said, noticing my clothes. I was only in a mint green T-shirt with the words 'Mash Daily' printed in white, and black champion shorts.
"How's school?" He asks, leaning back on the wooden chair, his hands lazily finding their way to his wide-open legs.
"Nice. I graduate in about a week so that's nice." I reply, sitting down on one of the chairs.
My leg bouncing up and down slightly.
"Well, there was something I wanted to ask-" Michael starts but gets interrupted by Chris bursting through the front door.
"I thought I told your Lil ass to stay in that room!" Chris exclaimed from the door, a bag of takeout in his hand. "What am I? Your puppy now?" I smartly reply, snatching the bag out his hand and walking back to the table. I begin to take the contents out the bag, and distribute them to the 3 of us. Chris and Michael began a conversation already, but what the hell was he going to ask me?
