Musical Theatre : One Shots

Cherry and Blueberry {Michael Mell x Reader}

~fluff~
~Cherry and Blueberry~

It's a sunny day in March, all of the teens are sweating puddles onto their desks and the smell absolutely reeks.
"Y/n, come to the front office"
The mic screams out your name. This wasn't a big deal, everyone gets called in nowadays, it's like the entire school is on some dark as shit emo phase, rebelling every chance they got.
You dodge the attention of a sulking boy walking past you, his bright red hoodie catching your eyes. After the boy walks past you turn to catch a last glimpse...
"Why is there a smudge mark on his backpack?"
You say out loud.
"He tried to erase the fact he's gAYEEEE."
The popular boy, rich, screams out to him.
"That's not very nice rich..."
You say quietly, watching the boy run out of the school.
"I'm looking for fun, feelings can be spared."
You sigh and keep walking towards the office.

> time skip babes <

"Mom, dad, I get that you're angry but this is completely unfair!" You shout to them.
"Completely unfair? GRAFFITI ISN'T SOMETHING THE SCHOOL TAKES LIGHTLY." Your father yells.
"Sir please do not yell; we can discuss this in a civil manner and come up with a solution." Your principal hushes your father.
"We're sorry, he just gets agitated." Your mother tries to maintain a good image, her smile seems fake and cold as her hands cautiously steady your father.
"Look, all I'm saying, is two weeks detention is insane. One week, I get, but two???" You plead to the principal.
"Very well, a week, but you're on thin ice y/n." The principal states. "You may go back to class"

>'nother time skip <

Riddddddnnnggg

The school bell had never sounded more like applause, you could see it as a
'good job! Another day alive!'
...It's nice to hear that after such a shitty day.

"Single file line everyone! Don't trump each other on your way out!" Some teacher commands. "Jake! No skateboarding indoors!" The same teacher pushes past you, causing you to lose balance and trip a little before you grab onto the rim of a trash can (ew) for balance. You stay there for a bit while you catch your breath and stiffen your noodle legs. Oh... what's that? Your eyes fix on a slushee cup, an empty one at that.

"Good idea." You say to yourself, how about to avoid Death By Angry Parent™️ you take a trip to 7 Eleven and stall the eventual murder of your innocent teen soul.

The walk was long, the only 7 Eleven was 5 miles away. At least the weather was nice, a warm afternoon on a Wednesday isn't the worst, you thought with a shrug.

By the time you arrive at the 7 Eleven it's nearly dark, the sun is about to dip over the myriad of suburban houses and parks. It's calm and quiet since the area is mostly rural, rather than busy shopping centers. The peacefulness of it all distracts you from the millions of miscalls from your parents.

You push open the silver-rimmed doors of 7 Eleven, and take in the smell of cheap snacks and jerky. The floor is shiny and the security TV greets you with a smile... sure it's your smile, but nonetheless, still a smile.

Now what did I come here for again...?

Oh right!

You walk through a row of shelves, bags of your favorite chips lean out to greet you as you walk by, all the way to an opening in the back of the store.

You step into The Realm Of The Slush™️.

Looking up, you see the five classic flavors, cherry, blueberry, strawberry banana, cola, and mango. The banana one seemed completely full and somehow pristine. "It's almost as if no one ever uses it." You say as you walk closer to the machine.
"Yeah... it's because banana sucks."
You turn to the left to see where the voice originated.
It's the kid from school, the one in the red hoodie.
"Oh... Hey! I think I know you from school"
You smile and step toward him, holding out a hand.
He seemed shocked.
"Really? You know me?"
He slowly outstretched his hand as well.
"Yeah."
You look down to see a cherry slushee.
"O-Oh..."
After a soft shake, he takes his hand back to pull his hood over his face.
"What's your favorite flavor?" He asks as he gestures shyly toward the slushee machines.
"Blueberry." You reply with a smile. Wether or not he could see you smiling was questionable, his hood covered a good percentage of his face.
"Mind me asking what's wrong...?"
You tried to keep your voice as warm as possible.
"My friend... he's popular now, and guess who isn't."
He held his slushee closer to him as he said that.
"I'd love to guess... but I don't know your name."
You use a singular finger to lift the hood slightly.
"Micheal."
He locks his eyes with you. You retract your arm and let the hood fall behind Michael's head.
"Well Michael... I'll be your new friend."
You smile again, this time, you know he sees you.
"First I need to know your name."
He says, the color coming back to his caramel skin.
"I'm y/n."

You talk for ages in that 7 Eleven, about your parents, about Jeremy, about slushees, about how dead you are when you get home, everything. He was kind to you, and after getting comfortable started to liven up a bit, he was still hurt by Jeremy, but he was okay again.

By now you've ordered their supply in both slushee and slushee cups, it's well into the night and the owner is starting to complain.

"- I think that's why aliens exist, who in there right mind would make up those stories! And what for!" Michael takes a sip of his red slushee .

"Yo what do you think aliens would be like though! Little green dudes with unproportional heads?!" You throw your now empty cup of Blueberry slushee.

"I don't know man but this sounds like a conversation we should be having high:" Michael pulls up his weed socks, showing them off.

"You got some?" You question, I mean you're already dead when you get home, what's a little green plant gonna do?

(Pls smoke responsibly fellas)

"Uhh OF COURSE!!" Micheal jumps up from the floor you both are sitting on. "At my place we can get as high as we want!" His headphones bounce against his shoulders.

"Sweet! Can I come?" You ask even though the answer is probably-

"Yeah, of course." He reaches his hand out for you to grab "My car is outside, I'll give you a ride."

"Sick." You two leave for Michael's house, and although you've already had an abundance of slush, you both get one cherry, and one blueberry to go.

>ooooo a time skip<

(Smoke responsibly)

You hand Michael the blunt.

"Ya know that Jeremy kid? Fuck him." You say "If he does come back around I'll defend you." You point to Michael "You deserve sO much better."

The blunt is passed back to you as Michael speaks. "You're right! Ya know,, you're not so bad. You're actually quite pretty." Michael smiles, it was supposed to be warm, but he's high so he looks like a doofus who's high on laughing gas from the dentist.

You chuckle and cough on the smoke. "Y-yeah?" You giggle more "You think I'm pretty?"

"Yah, aaaannnddddd," He holds out the blunt and while he moves closer to you "... I wanna know if you think I'M pretty." He laughs as the smoke circles around him.

"Mayyybee." You smile and place a hand on his side jaw, finger tips getting soft tickles of his hair. You place the blunt on the ceramic table next to you.

He leans in, and you lead his head with your hand, the smoke dances around the two of you, and you share a happy and soft kiss.

~End~