I met her at a party.

It wasn't a special party or anything, just your usual cesspool of drunkenly making out girls, people throwing up over the backs of couches and seedy guys trying their hand at the newly legal college chicks. Just your usual hangout when you can't think of anything better to do with your life.

That was exactly the issue, for us. Luke, Calum, Ashton and I had a day off, and we wanted to do something as a band that wasn't being a band. We walked three feet and were immediately swarmed by a hoard of screaming teenagers.

When all the selfies were taken, when all the girls who needed to faint got it over with, when are hands started cramping up from giving so many autographs, we found there was nothing else to do. We were a band. We were best friends, sure, but we'd been doing nothing but music together for the last three years. Somewhere along the line, we forgot how to be friends that don't need to be singing or filming or trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep wherever it's available. It kind of sucked.

I pushed those thoughts aside with another sip of my really shitty beer. Friendship was trivial, for the moment. My only goal as just another young guy in a bar was trying to find dateless girls through the haze of flashing lights mixing with the sweaty bodies and the thumping music mixing with the hooting Neanderthals.

This was about the only place my friends and I could find that wasn't festering with teenage girls. As much as I love my fans, I would rather not be trampled to death before I turn twenty five.

A bar. A pretty goddamn sketchy one at that.

The closest thing to 5 Seconds of Summer fans in the area were the few middle aged moms who cared enough to get our signature for their daughters and were probably drinking more than the suggested amount of vodka to be ingested on a school night.

When I shoved my hair backwards, a few strands of bright red slipped off of my scalp. Calum was always nagging me about not dyeing it so much. Maybe he was right about that, but in the mean time he was doing shots, surrounded by a gaggle of douchey looking guys of about 24. I had to suppress a smile; I spent most of my time joking about how he shouldn't be Cal-Pal, but the Human Magnet, seeing how quickly he made new friends in any and every situation, even if it isn't quite the right time or place for being super-social-rainbow-happy-Callie

I decided that, while I was on the topic of Mr. Hood, I should take a head count. Lord knows the other's wouldn't bother, and it didn't look like I would be nailing any chicks all that soon either.

It didn't take much to spot Luke. He was completely towering over the group of ten or so (Mostly blonde and large chested) girls he was sharing a couch with. They all looked really hardcore. E.g. Girls who would most likely have no idea what 5SOS even is. But that didn't seem to stop them from staring intently at his crotch and giggling like idiots over everything he said. I rolled my eyes. Lucas Fucking Hemmings, everyone.

My eyes went a little further to the left and landed on Ashton, who was talking to a singular female. Well, she was talking. He was mostly just nodding and swishing his drink around in his cup. He waved when he saw me staring and went back to the girl. Ashton had a dreamy look on his face that said he had just found his soulmate, but, then again, he found a new soulmate every week.

Then, I hit the jackpot.

Another girl. Tan in a way that suggested she was born with it, hair cut choppily around her shoulders. Maybe a little older than me and completely decked out in black clothes and silver accessories. Exactly my type.

She was standing next to Ashton and his soulmate, wearing an expression of sheer boredom. It didn't take a genius to tell she had come with Ashton's new bae and his taste in girls was completely ruining her night. She caught my eyes and held them for the count of three heavy bass notes pounding from the speaker, and then kept going.

Her eyes were a deep dark brown and oddly demanding. As if she were asking me whether I was going to stand there like an asshole, or go up and talk to her, save her from the untimely cock-blockage.

I took a chance. I felt her silently laughing at me as I straightened my shirt and checked my breath, but I still managed to saunter over to her with enough confidence to make Kanye West feel insecure.

She leaned against the bar and smirked a little as she saw me coming. A small part of me, somewhere in the base of my skull, already knew I was in love with her.

Author's Note:

I AM SO ASHAMED D':

I GODDAMN PROMISED MYSELF I WOULD NEVER WRITE FANFICTION ABOUT A REAL PERSON.

BUT, NOOOOOOO. YASMINE YOUSAF (KREWELLA) AND MICHAEL CLIFFORD (5SOS) HAD TO MAKE A SHIP IN MY BRAIN.

So, that happened.

I may continue this, I may leave it as it is...IDK. It depends on how I feel about Michasmine three weeks from now.

Sorry to all Michael girls who have been potentially scarred for life by this and sorry to all general fans if I slipped in bits of trivia that are incorrect.

Reviews are appreciated (Positive or Negative) and I hope you enjoyed!

I'm just going to go curl up in a ball and die now.