Good Girl Or Bad?---A Five Seconds Of Summer FanFic---

Katrina Clifford. Bad past, empty future. She reunites with her brother Michael and old best friend Calum, as well as meets her brother's band, which includes Calum and two new faces. One boy in particular demands her attention, which is both hard to ignore and hard to give into. He could never like her and she could never let herself like him. Except that you can't control these things. They control you. Things happen, for better and for worse. It's called life. You don't always get to chose how you live.


1. Chapter 1

        I am a little ashamed to admit, even to myself, that I'm actually nervous. I haven't seen my brother in close to four years. What if he doesn't like me? What if he hates the way I look or is disappointed in the girl I've become? I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, or even dad. Or if I lost both of them? I couldn't take that! 

        Snap out of it, Kat! Everything is going to be fine! They are your family and they love you, otherwise, they wouldn't be taking you in like this. And the things that are in the past...Well, there's no sense in reliving them. There's no way I'll let that happen again, so why bring it up?

        I scramble through the airport, my suitcases trailing behind me. I look around as I walk, spot a flash of green hair in the distance, thinking of my brother instantly. Only him, I laugh to myself, shaking my head. I'm quickly grabbed from behind, somebody pulling me back. I'm flung by my stomach into the waiting area, chairs surrounding us. I squirm, push away to face... "Calum?"

        "Hey, so you do remember your old buddy!"

        "Of course," I gloat, hugging him although I was purely in shock. He looks older, yes, but still the same as before. Though his hair is longer, the tips frosted white, pink smudges here and there. There's a piercing in the left corner of his lower lip, he has a septum piercing, and, from what I can see, both of his arms are tattooed. He's honestly kind of hot.

        "I didn't recognize you at first, KittyKat." I stuck my tongue out at him in response to the playful use of the nickname he gave to me years ago as kids.

        "Katrina?" I hear said behind me. I turn, being faced with three boys, one of which in particular I launch myself into the arms of.

        "Mikey, I've missed you so much!" I whisper into his arms, which were starting to crush me. He pulls me away from the hug, probably hearing my breathlessness. But he doesn't let me go. He holds himself away from me and just stares. I shift my face to the ground, self conscious. I knew he'd hate me! But glancing back up, I look around at his friends, look around our circle that's formed in the waiting area. Taking them in, I don't see how I couldn't fit in here.

        Once upon a time, you could have told Michael and I as siblings by our matching blonde hair and similar eye color. Both of ours are green, but his are a paler color and mine are darker, brighter, and kind of blue. Now his hair is some kind of green and mine is both black and red. We both have an eyebrow pierced and I have tons on my lips. He has one.

        His friends are similar, as well. The one to my brother's right is the odd one out. No tattoos that I can see, or piercings. There's a bandanna in his brown hair, where you can see flashing tints of dark purples and blues. He looks like a rocker, but his friends are all out punk. The boy to my brother's left, just looking at him made my breath catch in my throat and my heart theoretically stop. His nose is pierced on the same side that his upper lip is, and his lower lip on the same side as the eyebrow he has pierced. From where his t-shirt ends, I can tell his arms are tattooed as well as his neck, shoulders, and chest, which, again, disappear underneath the shirt. A black shirt, with a picture of himself on it. A little conceited, but what would you expect from a boy in a famous band? 

        A little conceited, but still does himself justice. His hair is slicked up into a perfect style made his own, his hair fiery oranges and reds. And his eyes, oh his eyes! A beautiful blue. That are squinting at me in a glare, his lips forming an unattractive smirk. I'm staring at him. I beg myself not to blush and look away. I look back up at my brother, who smiles at me, drapping an arm over my shoulders. "See boys, told you she'd fit right in."

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