Graffiti Girl // Michael Clifford

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I wish I knew you when eyes were white and innocent. If I could cut through time, I'd hold you close, make you mine.

«Unbreak» Ryan Star*

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"Okay. Here we go. This is Just A Little Girl by Trading Yesterday."

The boys all start strumming, creating a soothing and slow tone that takes a bit of the edge of the room off with the first chord.

Michael starts, focusing on his eyes on his strumming.

"You never cared to hear the other side. So why would you care to keep this thing alive? You paint me into the memory of all your pain. But I will not be drawn into the past again."

"Cause all of this is all that I can take. And I could never understand the demons that you face. So go ahead and bat your eyes and lie right to the world. For with everything you are, you're just a little girl."

"I never meant for you to feel this way. The Decembers were never meant to be our graves. It's not a question of who is wrong and what is right. But time cannot heal what you will never recognize."

The rest of the boys join in with back-ups in the chorus, trying to keep up with the new harmonies and chords. I can see the confusion and worry in their eyes with every beat as they play into the bridge.

"So go ahead and cry, go ahead believe that you were right. To keep away the dark. To help you sleep tonight. (Go on and decide. Who is wrong, what is right. Cause you know inside...)"

Calum, Ashton, and Luke keep shooting each other wary looks as they continue on with Michael's lead.

"Cause all of this is all that I can take. And I could never understand the demons that you face. So go ahead and bat your eyes and lie right to the world. For with everything you are. Cause all of this is all that I can take. And I could never understand the demons that you face. So go ahead and bat your eyes and lie right to the world. For with everything you are, you're just a little girl."

Michael's POV

Her tears are streaming harder when I look back up from my guitar. She still has on that stubborn look like she's still trying to be strong, but her lip is trembling and her eyes are terrified and hurt and broken. The gold glint is smaller and dulled, but I can still see it from here. She has spent hours studying my eyes, but I have spent hours watching her's. They change slightly with her mood. They are wider and brighter when she's happy. They are hooded and dull when she's not. I've come to know the latter more, but even so, there is always that hint of gold.

"What was the point of that, Michael?" she tries to say, but her strong tone wavers and her voice breaks. Her fists are clenched and trembling by her side and her lip, harshly bit.

I hold her gaze and take in a deep breath. I could do this. My only problem is if I should do this. Could she take it? I may not know the details, but I know enough to know that she is broken in more ways than one; more than she is aware of. All the theories in my head for why are simply theories, but they're enough to convince me that there is something to fix. I know she's terrified of feelings and getting close and trusting, but isn't that the cliché broken hearted girl you see in all the movies? And they always think they're on their own. Alandria is anything but cliché, but she is a broken hearted girl with a guy willing to heal her.

"Michael! What was the point of that?!" she repeats. I swallow hard and take a breath.

"We're different kinds of artists. We both know the world can be a shitty place. We both have ways of making our own parts of it better. You use spray cans. I use music. But I also know we both tend to hear words better with a melody," I sigh, trying to let out the tension in my shoulders through my breath. It doesn't work. I stand staring back at her for a moment before I work up the ability to move and turn to face the boys. They all rush to follow my huddle.