His English Love Affair; A Michael Clifford Fanfic

Boarding Pass

The taxi slowly approached the airport car park.
"Going anywhere nice?" the man asked, rising his head so he could look at me through the mirror.
"England. Rainy England. Home, I guess" I've lived here for about a year now. Since I was 17, anyway. I choked. It was too early for this. It was 2.35am. I tend not to speak to anyone, as my anxiety would always take over and make me mess up.
"You're leaving this sunshine for rain, dear? Ah well, good luck. Doing anything nice?" He chucked. He got out and opened my door. I grabbed my case and slumped out of the taxi.
"I'm seeing my family. My cousin is taking me to a concert. I'm in the mosh pit, too."
"You know, I remember my concert days. Who are you going to see, doll?" He asked. Someone was asking me about four important people who are the most important people to me... Wow.
"Um.. A band called five seconds of summer." I muttered.
"Ah. You know, my daughters seeing them when they come back to Australia. She never shuts up about Ashton." He chuckles.
"Or.. When ever I ask her if she wants ketchup she giggles and says 'yeah, so I can give him back to 5sos and Ashton will fall in love with me.. Strange." He scratched his head and looked confused.
"Um, anyway?. Have a safe flight darling." He muttered loudly. I nodded reassuringly. I freaking hated planes. Maybe he just jinxed it..
I put my black suitcase on the ground, and wheeled it along, making a sound every time I went over a little lump in the sidewalk. Taxi's were everywhere. EVERYWHERE. I checked my coat pockets to make sure I had my passport and boarding pass. Just like I did in the taxi about 8 times, and before I got into the taxi a few times. Oh, and made the poor driver wait while I went back to my house and check quickly. Just incase. As to my surprise, there was hardly anyone in the section I was in. I was so late. The traffic was terrible.
My plane boards in 40 minutes, which left me to run down to the terminal within 10 minutes. Luckily for me, it wasn't that far away. I travelled a lot over the past year, so I know this place like the back of my hand.
I didn't want to run, incase I were to fall. But I knew if I didn't I would miss my flight. Tugging my case behind me, I lunged forward while I heard my vans batting against the squeaky, shiny airport floor. My lilac died hair felt the wind coming from the fans. It looked terrible.
No, legit FANS. WHY.. Why are there fans here? Why are they around MY terminal? Oh shit.
I just.. Swept it under the rug. I thought it could be maybe some kind of old act. But then I realised the fans were mostly girls aged 12-20. Odd.
The adrenalin was running out, but my terminal was the next one ahead. I was already out of breathe, but I just walked as the cue hadn't boarded yet. No need to fret. I joined the end of the cue, as the young lady at the desk sweetly smiled at us and politely and clearly said
"Families with small children under the age of 5, please board." And so on. But then it was my turn.
"First class, please board." The only reason why I was first class was because my aunt Quinn wanted me to "have the best flight," after all it was about 22 hours of being stuck in a tin death trap. I handed her the boarding pass. "
Take the back exit, and have a great flight!" She smiled sweetly.

It took a while to get onto the plane, as of corse some of the kids had a hissy fit with the fact they had to walk in the now rainy weather. I walked up the steps of the plane. My hands were sweating, it was probably nerve. But there was a bald guy dressed in black. A body guard perhaps? He looks familiar, but before I could figure it out I was greeted by another flight attendant. I was seat 25 b. Great. Some stranger would be sitting next to me.
Anyway, I shoved my case in the over head cabinet, and quickly opened it (while standing on my toes so it hurt like hell) and got out my pillow and a blanket, and sat down, fixing my hair. I switched my phone on, and put my music on shuffle. Just when 'English Love Affair' started to play, I heard a group of lads fighting.
"No dude, I'm not sitting alone next to some stranger!"
Well they sound pleasant. Can't wait to get to know them. Maybe we'll become best friends, and get married with 26 kids. (That was sarcasm by the way.)
The fighting stopped, but then started. But it turned to "..I wanna sit next to the pretty girl!" ..Pretty girl? I closed my eyes and giggled, still relaxing. Foot steps came near me, and someone sat down.
"Losers, now go away. I got here first. Shit heads." He laughed.
Fuck, he was already annoying. But he had a familiar voice. I turned up my music, then it suddenly changed to rejects. I was too focused on those idiotic guys fighting. Then the dick had the nerve to snatch my earbud.
"Do you fucking mind?!" I shouted at him, opening my eyes.
Fuck. Fuck. ShiT. HOLY SHIT OH CRAP NO NO NO FUCK ME NO.
"I see you like my music.. Want to be my English love affair, sweetheart?" He chuckled.
SHITTING HELL IT WAS FUCKING MICHAEL CLIFFORD WHAT THE FUCK DO I EVEN DO.
Me being me, I punch him.
Nice move, Ainsley.
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A/N

hey guys, this is my new fan fiction. It's actually based off a dream I had last night. This was as far as it got, but Michael kissed me but that's a little too sudden, don't you think?
Anyway, thanks for reading :)
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Twitter; sweetkissesmgc
- Cerys xx