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You're More Punk Rock >> m.c

Oh my  god, I haven't updated in so long. Sorry :(

I'm gonna crush you.

In your dreams.

Oh it's on Clifford.

You met Michael whilst at trials for the football [soccer] team. Him going for goalie on the boys under 15 team and you going for the girls under 15 team. He saw your gift for the sport and challenged you. He bet that you can't score a goal against him, forgetting that you were going to be trialling for a position as striker. Also, not knowing that you were the star player in your previous schools' team. "Okay." You reply nonchalantly, standing behind the ball. Michael doesn't even bother to block the shot and you take the opportunity to kick the ball as hard as you can, narrowly missing the goalie himself by mere inches.

"Hey! I wasn't ready!" He defends, making you shake your head in disappointment, standing behind the next football. Michael does prepare himself a little bit, assuming that your first shot was just pure luck, he still doesn't necessarily put much effort. "Ready?" Michael nods, not really caring. No, not caring at all.

Your foot makes contact with the ball, a satisfying noise filling your ears as a squeal comes out his mouth when the ball is basically flying towards his head. Again, barely missing him. "Holy shit. I really need to stop underestimating girls."

Since then you two have been nonstop at each other's backs. Bickering constantly and always wondering who is better than who. And just saying, you're the better one. At least according to his little crew. Right now, you and him were going head to head in a game of FIFA. You've beat Calum and you're pretty sure he's better than Mike but he might've changed. You never know.

Thumbs furiously tapping on the controller, the obnoxious clicking noise the only sound filling the room. Both our faces etched with hints of concentration. Your furrowed eyebrows, his constant incoherent muttering, your frequent lip bites and his tongue barely hanging out of his mouth. You were in the zone, focusing on nothing else except for the game in front of you.

He started to tense when you scored a goal after forever of just knocking the ball around aimlessly. With the game nearing to an end, he had to do something. But he wasn't fast enough. The scores left him at 1-0 to you and you stood up and did a small victory dancing, sticking your tongue out at Michael. He threw the controller down in rage, nearly breaking it.

"It doesn't matter if I didn't win. I'm punk rock."

You heard him mumble under his breath, and you smirk again. Seeing that this was another opportunity to beat him.

"Little Mikey is saying he's all punk rock when I can clearly see a my little pony plush on his couch, beside a quilt that says 'I love my mummy'."

You tease, pointing at the couch behind you. Michael's face turns a shade of crimson as he takes the two and throws them somewhere. "You were not meant to see those." He goes all hostile, looking like he's gonna punch you. Even though you know he can barely hurt a fly.

"With those in your house, we can clearly see who's more punk rock." You gush, flicking your hair before plopping yourself on the couch.

"Is that a challenge I hear?"

"Oh you can read my mind."

He calls his posse over here and makes them swear to tell the truth and not be biased because they were apart of his team and there was a hot chick going against him.

His words.

You have the honours of saying the question. "Who is more punk rock?"

The three smile deviously, looking at both you and Michael up and down to see if they can decide who is the winner.

"Well, being punk rock isn't all about the looks." One of the smarty pants in the group who merely pretends to know the universes ins and outs when you tutor him every other weekend. Calum, is his name if you recall correctly.

"But it sure as hell helps if you looked the part." A tall, lanky guy with dirty blond hair and a lip piercing. Luke his name is. He's actually a pretty good friend of yours. Helped mentor you with the electric guitar, video games and football [soccer] becoming the a huge help in your journey to fame. Aka journey to beating Michael's poor ass in everything he thought he was best at.

"So, which of you look more punk?" Ashton. Glasses frames his face, honey brown ringlets spilling around his head. Nothing really to say about this man. You barely knew him anyway.

You look at yourself up and down as was glad at your fashion choice for today. There's a lot of pleather going on with your outfit. From a pleather biker jacket to your pleather ankle boots accented with spikes. Black skinny jeans with holes and tears adorned your legs whilst a simple white tank hung loose over your torso. Dark red lipstick added that edge you needed to end off the whole rock vibe. You had multiple ear piercings on both your ears and tattoos were peaking out from underneath your jeans and jacket. To top it all off, you recently had your hair done with streaks of purple, tied up in a high ponytail. Michael on the other hand...

You'll give him the fact that he has red hair which you thought was fairly punk. But first off, he just basically copied Gerard Way and it's starting to fade. Tattoos were on his skin, an eyebrow and ear piercing. His clothes weren't as punky as they'd normally be. Some random sweat pants and a loose Metallica band shirt. Uncoordinated and very horrible styled.

"Michael, you lose you know." Ashton splutters, a disgusted look on his face as he looks at Mike up and down.

"Fuck. Of course she's more punk rock."