Band Tees ~ 5 Seconds of Summer

One boy with too many soccer trophies, one boy with too much hair dye, one boy with too many drum sticks, one boy with too much ego, and one girl with too many band tees.

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7. VII

“Come on, Michael, you’re meant to be helping me.”

Michael groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. “I hate choosing clothes. I’m a guy, not a fashion guru.”

“Michael, I have two dresses, so just help me pick. Please.” I jutted out my bottom lip and pouted. “Pretty please with cherries on top.”

He lifted up his head to face me. “Ugh, I hate you.” He groaned again but looked at the dresses I was holding. “Go with the plaid so I won’t be the only plaid-wearing person.”

I looked at the two dresses I was holding and held the one Michael had chosen to my body. “Does it suit me?”

“Yeah, it looks punk but dressy so wear that one.”

I looked at it one more time and studied it close. The body was red and black plaid with no sleeves and the skirt was black leather that reached mid-thigh. “Yeah, you’re right. It does look good.” I smiled, glad I had finally chosen what to wear to the party. "I'm gonna get changed now."

“Do you want me to leave the room or look away?”

“I honestly didn’t care.” I was proud of my body, not ashamed at it. Yes, I had stretch marks on my thighs and scars from accidents, but I felt no reason to hide them. These little imperfections were what made me, me. I pulled off the shirt I was wearing followed by my shorts, so I was just in my underwear and bra. I then unbuttoned the dress front, stepped into it, then buttoned it again. I smoothed the front and looked into the mirror. The dark eye makeup really matched the dark clothes and the red plaid really brought out my dyed red hair. I opened up my wardrobe and pulled out a selection of shoes.

Michael groaned again. “Don’t make me choose shoes, I’ll do even worse.”

“Don’t worry, I can choose shoes.” The selection I had gotten out from my wardrobe consisted of black boots, black Converse, and black heels.

“You have such a wide selection of colours.” Michael laughed.

“I know right. I think I’m gonna go with boots but I have such a range of boots.” This was a joke because all my boots were the same. I grabbed a pair and slipped them on my socked feet.

A knock then resounded around the house and Michael looked up from his phone. He pushed himself up and looked out the window.

“It’s Calum,” he announced. “Better hurry ‘cause his mum’s in the car. She’s sweet but doesn’t like to wait.”

I nodded and grabbed my phone. I tucked it down the side of my bra as my dress didn’t have pockets and held out my hand for Michael.

“Come on, lazy bum, let’s go partay!” I shouted and Michael laughed.

We quickly made our down the stairs and stopped outside the front door. Michael pulled it open to reveal Calum standing there, leaning against the side of the house. Calum was wearing one of those baseball shirts (the one with red sleeves and a white torso) and jeans, along with his signature black Vans.

“Bye mum!” I called out then pushed Michael through the door, not waiting for a response. “Hi Calum.” I smiled widely.

“Hey, Sam. You look nice.”

“Thanks. Is that your mum?” I pointed to the car parked outside of my house.

“Yeah, that’s my mum. I apologise in advance, she’s going to grill you once you get in.”

I laughed. “That’s okay, it won’t be the first time.”

Inside the car, I met Calum’s mum, and she insisted I didn't call her Mrs. Hood (I refused). She asked me questions about what my hobbies included (listening to music and taking photos), what my subjects were, how I met Calum, why I had moved around a lot, etc. They were standard questions; ones I had become an expert in answering.

The drive was short, twenty minutes maximum. Mrs. Hood stopped outside of a large house, which looked to fancy to have a party full of teenagers in. In fact, I could see a chandelier through one of the large windows.

Michael, Calum and I piled out of the car and waved as Mrs. Hood drove off.

“Are you sure this it the right place?” I asked Calum. “It looks too...fancy.”

“Oh, I just asked mum to drop us off here. We actually need to walk a block to get to there. I just told her to stop here because where we’re going is a bit of a dump.” I gave Calum a look; why would we be going to a dump for a party? “Well, not a dump. It’s the home of this nineteen-year-old who used to go to Norwest. It’s a big place but some parts are a bit ruined. It’ll be fun, though.”

Michael and I nodded. We began walking towards the party venue and by the time we were on the block, it was dark and we could hear music pumping through large speakers. The area around the house was also slightly rundown so I figured the neighbours wouldn’t mind the noise.

Calum was the first to go inside the house, Michael was second, I was third. Inside, the lights were off but there were a few strings of fairy lights dotted around the house. Loud music was bursting through the speakers, and I was pretty sure it was My Chemical Romance. However, the bass had been increased and people were shouting so much that the music was distorted and I could barely hear the words.

Bottles of beer were being passed between people, and I was pretty sure I saw a few joints going around. I split off from Michael and Calum, and gravitated to the beer. I didn't do it intentionally, but whenever I went to a party and I wanted to have fun, I'd have to have some alchol in my system. When I was on my fourth drink and my feet had gotten tired from dancing for an hour, I sat down on a couch that had been pushed to the side of the room. The couch was large but the cushions had hardly any stuffing in them. Once I was comfortable sitting, the guy next to me put his arm on the back behind me. I ignored him and began singing to the AC/DC song that was playing throughout the house.

"You know Touch Too Much?" The guy beside me said.

"Uh, yeah, who doesn't?" I asked.

"Lots of people." He retorted.

"People with good taste in music know AC/DC."

"But there aren't many people with a good taste in music."

I had to admit that this guy was right; there weren't many people who knew songs by AC/DC and other amazing bands. Most people at Norwest didn't even know who Blink-182 was.

"I'm Sam." I introduced myself and held out my hand for him to shake.

"I'm Ashton." He smiled and his eyes shined. I had to confess that Ashton's face, combined with his dimples, distracted me for a bit. With a black fedora perched on top of his curly brown hair, hazel eyes, large biceps, and tan skin, he was definitely attractive.

...

“I don’t understand why you don’t like Snuff, it’s a good song!”

“It’s not heavy metal, it’s too slow for me. Heavy metal is meant to be fast and loud, Snuff is the complete opposite of that.”

“I’m sorry, Ashton, but you’re wrong. Snuff, whilst not the usual heavy metal, is still a good song.”

“I’m not saying that it’s a bad song, I just don’t like it as much as, um, Dead Memories.”

I sighed. Snuff was a good song, Ashton just couldn’t see it; and it seemed there was no way I was going to make him see it. “Alright, whatever.” I huffed. “We just have different ideas.”

“Have you ever been to a Slipknot concert?” Ashton asked.

“I haven’t. I wanted to when they came to Australia last year but my mum didn’t let me. It was also an eighteen-plus concert and I didn’t have a fake I.D. at that point.”

“So you have a fake I.D. now?”

“Yeah, I actually got one so I could buy a pet fish.” I admitted and Ashton laughed. “But the fish died because I forgot to feed it. So then I started using it to buy alcohol.”

“Ooh, you naughty girl. So you’re not legal? Does that mean I can't kiss you?" He then winked.

"Even if I was legal, I wouldn't kiss you. I mean, you're attractive and all, but I kinda like this other guy."

"Oh yeah?" Ashton sounded a little disappointed.

"Yeah, he's such a cutie. Don't think that I'm not kissing you because I don't like you. You are extremely attractive and I would love to kiss you but I think this other guy is amazing and I definitely like him. Or it's just the alcohol talking, I'm not sure."

"Are you planning on telling him?" He asked.

"Maybe. I might need a little bit more alcohol, though." I laughed then stood up to get myself another drink.

I know that's a bit of an awkward space to leave it but I couldn't think of anything else to write without it copying the next chapter. But I hope you liked this chapter, I definitely liked writing it. Just know that I've never actually been to a house party so this party is completely from my imagination.

Love you all, bye!

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