A/N:
So as stated in the description, this story is going to center heavily on Mikaela Banes and her eventual relationship with Bumblebee, so turn back now if that isn't your thing lol. I recently watched the Transformers movie again after many years and was completely caught off guard by how much I liked her character when compared to Sam. I thought she was way more interesting and I couldn't stop the gears from turning in my head as I wondered what the movie would've been like if she'd been the lead instead. Sorry if characters feel ooc here, but I'm gonna do my best with what little of Mikaela we got on screen while also putting my own spin on things as I see fit. And no offense to Megan Fox, but I kind of prefer the way Mikaela looks like in the comics that tie-in to the movieverse more, so please refer to the cover image of Mikaela instead lol. I'm also gonna take a lot of liberties with Mikaela's background and ancestry since there's barely any information regarding her family, so don't be surprised if Megan doesn't fit the bill, it's what the cover image is for. I really enjoyed writing this first chapter, and I really hope you guys like the way I interpret her character going forward. :3
Btw, Happy Thanksgiving to those of you in the U.S.! I should totally sleep now.
Mikaela bit her bottom lip so as to keep herself from voicing her disgust aloud. Her father's jacket was on the floor in front of the main entrance of their trailer home, left in a messy heap alongside a pair of black stilettos she didn't recognize. Bracing an arm against the wall to help maneuver herself around, Mikaela nearly slips on something that crunches under her foot and curses. She kicks the object away and reaches for the light switch, discovering it had been a purple studded purse. Leading to her father's bedroom door were his scuffed boots, a different cell phone from the one she'd bought him months ago, and a tiny piece of fabric that Mikaela could only guess was a woman's thong.
She was internally screaming Ew before she could take another step.
And then the noises rose from the bedroom.
Oh, hell no.
Mikaela rushes out the door and barely manages to lock it behind her.
If she'd known ahead of time about her father's 'guest', she'd have asked to spend the night at Lindsey's after going clubbing with her earlier that night. Lindsey had been set on going all out with her girlfriends one last time before starting her new life at NYU, and despite knowing it wasn't typically her scene, she'd been able to convince Mikaela somehow into going with her. The night had gone as expected; The girls in their group wouldn't let Mikaela out of their sight, unanimously insisting they all travel as one large, living organism on the packed dance floor. And Lindsey had made some stupid rule earlier that night about keeping phones out of sight (with the exception of selfie-taking), claiming they'd only distract them from focusing on the real star of the party. God, she was a riot.
The "Going away party" wasn't supposed to go past midnight, though, and Mikaela had found herself panicking over having broken her word to her dad. Checking her phone now as she walked in the opposite direction of home, she could see that the message she'd sent him from the taxi was still marked as unread.
Mikaela shook her head. Getting mad at him for that wasn't the issue here. And, okay, she'd broken her word about being back before midnight. That was on her. It was the fact that he'd brought someone over and forgotten his daughter was going to be back at all, that pissed her off. Again.
Before heading out of the house himself, Dad had simply shrugged and told her he'd be at the bar catching up with his own friends later that evening. Mikaela couldn't understand why when he seemed to be doing more than enough of that since getting out of jail. First, it was drinking with friends, then taking trips to San Diego and gods knew where else. Now, it was bringing women home.
Mikaela drew a deep breath and continued down the sidewalk. Even as the blisters on the backs of her feet sang painful melodies up her legs, she refused to go back. The thought of sleeping next to such a thin wall made Mikaela want to vomit. It was going to be 2 a.m. and Mikaela wasn't sure what she was going to do. Lindsey had retreated to her boyfriend's, and Mikaela wasn't close to any of the other girls that had been invited to ask for favors.
She hugged her purse to her side as a man on a bicycle took his time going past her on the sidewalk. It was stupid since the road was currently empty, and the sidewalk was small and crumbling in comparison. When he blew her a kiss, Mikaela rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder after a few seconds to make sure he was gone. The street lamps in the area gave minimum effort to guide her through the darkness, and the distinct pops of gunshots in the distance didn't do much to ease her mind either. Sighing softly, Mikaela walked for fifteen more minutes until she arrived at an intersection she recognized. She stopped beside the tagged wall of a building she knew was a tattoo shop and took a moment to go over her options. The restaurants across the street looked like they'd been closed for hours, but there was a 24-hour liquor store on her right and a brightly lit laundromat directly in front of that. She considered the liquor store for a moment as she peers in its direction, but accidentally ends up making direct eye contact with a man smoking a cigarette in the parking lot.
The headlights of a passing car illuminate Mikaela from head to toe and she notices the same man turn to the opened window of a car parked next to him, and exchanges word with whoever sat inside. Without missing a beat, she turns in the direction of the laundromat and tries to pick up her pace, causing her steps to call for more unwanted attention as she made it across the street. She hadn't noticed from the angle she'd been at before, but there were more people hanging around the entrance of a small bar next to the liquor store.
Mikaela let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Crossing the street had been the right call, she thought, but stopping by the laundromat probably wasn't. It was too bright inside, and the large glass windows that replaced the walls didn't do much for coverage. Catching a glimpse of a neon sign announcing free wi-fi and HBO several blocks away, Mikaela squared her shoulders and walked past the laundromat. If it was a motel, she'd scrounge up whatever money she had left in her purse and try to get herself a room. If that didn't work out, then she may just end up walking all night.
Mikaela fought back the urge to tug at the dress that hugged her hips as someone hooted and whistled from the bar's entrance. She doesn't bother responding.
If dad hadn't ignored my messages...
But he had. He didn't even have the decency to wait until they'd reached the bedroom to start stripping. That woman's underwear was probably still laying on the floor of their home and would be all night.
She frowned as someone from the bar continued to cat-call her even as she made it to the opposite end of the street. If she hadn't panicked back there, maybe she could've had more time to think. To plan. Not run out of her home like some scared little brat.
Mikaela should've gone to her room and grabbed herself a jacket, or better yet, shoes with heels that weren't four inches tall. She should've brought more money to spend on a taxi. She should've gotten the keys to her workplace that she'd left hanging from a hook in the kitchen, and gone there instead. She knew Bonecrusher would've loved the company, and as long as she left well before Joaquin arrived to open shop... Well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And now that she thought about it, there was also the existence of the motorcycle she left parked behind the house.
God, she was an idiot. This wasn't like her at all.
And if Sam were here, he'd probably say the same thing.
What? No. We are not thinking about, Sam. We're not doing this, Mikaela.
"Hell no," she murmured under her breath.
"You say something?"
Mikaela tensed and glanced up to find two women leaning against the front door of a vape shop holding cigarettes. Both wore matching waitressing uniforms and one of them had their shoes set on the ground beside them.
"Cute, outfit," one of the women jeered.
Here to blow more than a little steam, I see.
Mikaela kept a steady pace and ignored them even as they asked her where she was going. The sidewalk must've been uneven on the spot she stepped next because her right heel wobbled unsteadily beneath her, causing the back of her footwear to jab painfully at her blister. Mikaela's upper body flew forward from the sudden momentum and she had to quick-step to keep herself from falling.
She was unable to contain the loud, "Fuck," that sputtered from her lips.
Laughter exploded from the women behind her. Mikaela felt tears sting her eyes from the freshly torn blisters on the backs of her ankles. She wanted to flip them off. She wanted to do something with the embarrassment she felt, with the anger that had formed like a hard, coiled knot in the pit of her stomach.
Mikaela inhaled the cool air fast enough between her teeth for it to sound like a hiss.
Fuck this.
She bristled at the sensation of being watched by more individuals up ahead.
I'm over it. I'm so fucking over it.
Mikaela refused to move aside for a handful of similarly dressed people and forced them to go around her. She scoffed at the exaggerated exchange between the two women and their coworkers. Look all you want you bastards. I don't give a shit. If her feet weren't screaming with every step, she would've stomped even louder.
God, it hurt.
It seriously hurt.
Mikaela stopped further down the side of the road and repeatedly blinked up at the sky as her vision blurred from incoming tears. The act was one she'd perfected over the years to stop herself from crying and ultimately ruin her makeup. She was practically a master at this point. "Stupid. Why are you worrying about your makeup now?" The absurdity of it all caused her to smile. She shook her head, laughing to herself even as a tear leaked from her eye and loose hair fell around her face. She must've looked like a maniac. "God, who cares?" Mikaela dragged a hand across her cheek and bent down to remove one of her high heels, hopping for a bit on one leg before removing the second.
"Hey pretty lady," sang a male's voice, "Wanna go my way?"
Mikaela's breath caught, and when she turned to face the owner of the electronic voice she nearly fell over in her haste to see him. "Bumblebee?"
"Hi, Mikaela," the Autobot greeted gleefully, his voice clipping through static as he stressed her name. It must've been a trick of the light, Mikaela thought, because the yellow camaro seemed to be absorbing whatever light was coming from the street lamps around them and was absolutely glowing.
She ran her fingers absently through her hair and stood barefoot in front of him, high heels in one hand, in the middle of the sidewalk. She stared for a long moment, and felt embarrassed by her brief shock when his engine purred, urging her to come closer. Mikaela smiled. He was really here. Bumblebee, the autobot who'd fought tooth and nail to protect her and Sam, who'd put his life in her hands and helped fight the Decepticons those two years ago. Her friend.
"Cat got your tongue?" Bumblebee asked.
Mikaela felt the uncharacteristic urge to run up to him, spread her arms wide and hug the yellow camaro silly. The urge was so overpowering that Mikaela had to force herself to cross her arms and settle for leaning against the opened passenger window instead.
"No. I just didn't expect to see a friendly face. There hasn't been a lot of those around tonight, and seeing you... like this, I just-"
Mikaela jolted at the sensation of someone swatting her butt and gripped one of her high heels in her hand as she turned to attack.
Bumblebee's rear door flew open so fast, Mikaela nearly missed the sweet sight of it nailing the jerk square between the legs. Lyrics to "Mama said knock you out" blasted from the camaro's speakers appropriately when said jerk landed in a heap on the ground, falling unconscious from the looks of it. Mikaela snorted as Bumblebee shook on his wheels and patted his roof affectionately, all hesitation gone. "Like I said, I'm really happy to see you, Bee."
The passenger door opened for her to hop inside, and Mikaela enthusiastically obliged.