Fanboy (Michael Clifford)

| michael's pov | "You haven't been going out lately, Michael," my mum commented, pushing her glasses up from the bridge of her nose. She had a neutral expression on, telling me she wasn't as bothered as she should be. I nodded, eating the last portion of my burger. "I'm just tired," I replied, pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my hands. It was hard to lie, but it was partially true. I was tired. Tired of getting worked up over someone who I'd never meet. My mum nodded contently, "It's alright, but maybe you should go out sometime soon? I'm sure your friends miss you." She continued on with what she was doing, taking my empty plate and placing it in the sink. "Uh, yeah. I'll try." I gulped and headed upstairs, back to my poster-filled room. There wasn't a single picture of her, though. I don't think I could manage well with a photo of her stuck on my wall. Just the thought of her made my heart beat faster than it should. Lounging on my bed, I reached for my laptop and opened it. It revealed the blog I ran for about four months. It wasn't like I expected myself to have something dedicated to her and her band; it just suddenly happened. A click could change lives, after all. I did what I've always done, which was look, sigh, write, and sigh again. I never thought someone could have so much impact on me; it was unreal. I didn't think I'd learn this 'fangirl lingo', or even become who I was now- a mere fanboy. My eyes were teary, just from that. I could never imagine myself to be this easily affected. I was a guy, for f**k's sake. I always prided myself for being the strong one. I guess I just wasn't anymore. It was because there was always something clawing at the back of my mind; something very painful. It was a thought that always managed to get to me. It never failed to bring me down. "You're not worth it," I reminded myself. Those were the four words that stabbed me again and again. It was the only fact I needed to not keep me going. It was probably the sole reason for the pain in my chest. Because I knew I wasn't worth it; I wasn't enough for someone like her.