violet skies / michael clifford

epilogue: rolling stone

are you making up for lost time, michael?

If someone told me three years ago, when I was sat in a smelly van on the way to the first gig of our first tour, that my band was going to be on the cover of Rolling Stone, I'd probably call them a fucking liar, flip them a finger and walk off.

But that's exactly what's happened.

We're about to get naked for a covershoot, I'm sweating under the studio lights, and Luke keeps making stupid jokes about getting an accidental boner. "At least Mikey will be fine, nothing his hands won't cover."

They're all waiting for me to say something back, but I don't. I'm completely stuck for words, eyeing the girl setting up the lights.

She's got my heart pounding against my naked ribcage. Just my luck, seeing her again for the first time in three years, and I'm only wearing pants.

Either she's ignoring me, or trying to act professional. I don't care which, I just wanna talk to her.

"You made it," I say, as she moves past me, close enough for her to hear me.

"So did you," she responds, pushing the light into position.

"How have you been?"

"Good, thanks. You?"

I'm reaching for things to say, wishing she'd at least look at me. Sighing, I brush my hand over my face. "Can we skip the awkward conversation? I've missed you."

"It's been years, Michael." Her brown hair is tied back, showing off the soft features of her face.

"So? Why does that have to make things awkward between us now?"

"Everything has changed," she says. "You said you would let me go."

"And I did let you go." I'm forcing the tears back, because I don't want to have reddened eyes in the pictures. "You didn't even come say goodbye. I waited for you. And you never showed."

"I couldn't do it."

"I don't blame you. But we're both here now, things are different. Do you want me to ignore you? Pretend like we don't have history?"

"My life has changed. I'm struggling to pay rent, I have to deal with rude famous people thinking they can walk all over me or tell me to only take pictures from their good side. You wanna know something, Michael? A horrible person has no good side, they're ugly from all angles!"

"Woah, slow down," I say, chuckling softly at her little rant, "I'm still who I was back then. I wouldn't treat you any different. The only thing that's changed is my bank balance and my hair colour."

"I like it red, it suits you."

There we go. Her face finally warms up, even if it's just a little.

"I've missed you."

"I cried myself to sleep every night. And I failed my exams," she says, "Would have been better off just dropping out, like you said. Got in contact with this person, though, who'd seen my work online."

"I knew you'd make it."

She shrugs her shoulders. "I got to shoot some cool bands."

I won't tell her I put in the recommendation. To be fair, it was about time someone spotted her talent. She might say shitty people are ugly from all angles, but she sure knew how to make me look good.