ghost house · 5sos [being rewritten]

1.01

chapter one: house of entrance.
character: michael.
—

it was twelve in the morning and to think that four practically wasted young adults were driving down an empty road lodged within the trees of the thick forest just outside of their hometown wasn't surprising. nineteen-year-old michael clifford knew from that start that he shouldn't have ever touched the steering wheel after getting himself drunk, but he liked to think that the drive sobered him up rather quickly. he hadn't had much to drink to begin with, and it's probably the only reason he had found himself in the driver's seat of his best friend's car.

"scratch my car and you are literally fucking dead," ashton seethed from the passenger seat.

michael glanced over at him. ashton had his head against the window, his eyes closed. michael figured that out of the four of them, ashton would have the worst recovery. he was the most responsible, and so he never normally could be persuaded into drinking too much, if anything at all. it almost amused michael, but he also enjoyed whenever he and his friends could get him to loosen up a little. ashton always seemed so uptight, and michael constantly tried to push the older boy into drinking. he figured that the only reason him and his two friends (who were busy fooling around in the backseat) had ended up persuading ashton this time around was because it had been his birthday. ashton turned twenty the night before.

why they ended up in a car, driving aimlessly down that path through the woods after getting drunk off their asses would forever be a mystery to them all. michael just didn't have the heart to tell any of them that they were almost out of gas and that he was a bit lost, considering he had started off the drive drunk and all.

"here. i just found this one under the seat. you can have it."

michael raised an eyebrow, reaching up towards the car mirror and adjusting it so that it was fixated on his two friends in the back. the blond, luke, was busy handing another bottle of wine out to calum, who michael had never seen so drunk in his life.

"don't give that to him. he'll die," michael warned, although he didn't know if he wanted to stop them.

dryly laughing, luke mocked him. "don't give him that. he'll die."

michael scrunched up his nose, refusing to glance back in the mirror at his two idiot best friends. he thought that he had the right to consider them idiots. after all, they acted the same whether they were drunk off their asses or not. he chose to do the right thing by slamming down harshly on the breaks after making sure that they were the only vehicle on the road.

a seeming group effort of "ow" and "you fucking cunt" echoed throughout the car, and michael smiled proudly.

"what was that for?" ashton snapped, and michael turned his head to stare back at him.

"gas is low." michael wasn't exactly lying.

"bitch." luke was busy having an emotional meltdown in the backseat, and so michael chose to ignore him.

calum just giggled, and michael wanted to slap him.

michael shouldn't have invited calum to come along, but he couldn't help himself. especially, not when calum suddenly seemed interested in the group of friends again. of course, it was because it was ashton's birthday, but still. michael didn't think that calum had the right to ignore them for months, only to decide he wanted back in as soon as they all planned to go out and get recklessly drunk for ashton's birthday.

it's not that michael didn't love calum. he did. so much. but, he just couldn't take it. as soon as the night was over and done with, and they were all completely hungover, calum would up and leave them again. the only time michael could recall even seeing him around was whenever the trio were out doing something they had never done before, but looked cool. he wouldn't call calum a stalker, but it just didn't seem like a coincidence anymore. maybe calum was just jealous that they weren't going to let his absence affect their lives anymore. he didn't deserve the satisfaction, and michael wished he hated him.