michael.

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Today was the day. 

After being home in Sydney for the past four weeks, I was itching to be back on stage doing what I loved to do. Honestly, I was itching to leave the house and get some fresh air. I know, I know. Thee Michael Clifford who loves being a hermit while playing video games wanted to be outside. It wasn't that I couldn't, but it was more of, I shouldn't. 

The news of being a father and taking Melody into my care spread through the gossip magazines like wildfire. The amount of articles that focused on me being a teenaged father outweighed the amount of stories written about our music. 5 Seconds of Summer was about to embark on the greatest and biggest world tour yet, in addition to releasing a sophomore album in about two months. The lads and I have been working harder than ever to make this tour the best it could be and all these stupid reporters just wanted to publish stories about Michael the father. 

Ugh. 

I descended the stairs, the smell of breakfast wafting into my nostrils and I could feel my mouth watering. The television on the family room was playing some cartoon and when I entered the kitchen, Melody sat at the table eating a plate of pancakes. Several stacks of phone books acted as a booster seat for her even though mum kept pestering me to buy her one. Sleeves rolled up, hair in a ponytail and syrup on her hands, this little girl who looked so much like her mother had my own mum wrapped around her tiny finger. 

"Good morning Michael," mum greeted, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Sit down and I'll prepare your plate."

"Thanks mum, but I can do it myself," I told her. She gave me a look, the same reprimanding look she often gave me growing up. I didn't want to argue with mama bear so I followed her orders and plopped down in the seat across from Melody. 

"Why the VIP service?" I asked. Melody had whipped cream on her cheek and I reached over to wipe it with my thumb. Melody gave me a glance and I smiled at her, but the 3-year-old swerved, looking back at the television screen. 

"Well son, you're leaving to the US in a few hours. I want to do one last thing for my baby before he leaves me for months," mum expressed, stacking food on top of a porcelain plate.

"Don't worry mum, I'll text you everyday and just let me know when you want to visit me. I'll buy your plane ticket and everything," I promised. Mum walked over, placing the plate in front of me before giving me a side squeeze. 

"I'm going to miss you my son," she rubbed my hair. She then switched her attention to Melody, prancing over to the little girl with a goofy grin on her face. Changing her voice to that annoying, high-pitched tone, mum continued, "and I'm also going to miss my favorite little princess. I don't know what I'm going to do without you." 

I rolled my eyes. Mum kind of adopted Melody, spoiling her granddaughter with new clothes, toys, and tons of trips to the park. Melody of course enjoyed all the attention, she just didn't get much from me. I wondered how things were going to be on tour now that Melody had to be my responsibility one hundred percent of the time. 

"I miss you too," Melody's tiny voice filtered my ears and it still surprised me. She rarely talked, well not to me at least. 

"Aw I love you sweetie," mum placed a kiss on Melody's nose, which happened to be a spitting image of mine. "Are you done eating? Shall we get you cleaned up?" 

Melody nodded her head without a word, and held out her arms. Mum lifted her off of the chair and onto the ground. The two of them left the kitchen, leaving me alone to my thoughts. 

"What shape is this?" My eyes drifted to the child-like voice coming from the children's program on the television. I groaned, grabbing the remote control and changing the channel. Bad decision. 

"5 Seconds of Summer begins their North American leg of the tour in a week, and I wonder if they'll be taking a crib along for Michael's daughter…" 

Click.

"…loses their endorsement deal with Nickelodeon's Awesomeness TV due to several complaints from parents who don't want a teenaged father to be a role model to their kids…"

Click.

"So in between the sets of songs on tour, will Michael Clifford have to run back stage to change diapers and tuck his daughter…"

Click.

Pissed off, I turned off the television instead, throwing the remote to the side. The force was a little too strong because the remote skidded off the table and plummeted onto the tiled floor. I let out an annoyed groan, not even bothering to pick up the controller. 

I couldn't watch TV, listen to the radio or even check Twitter without seeing, listening or reading something that had to do with Melody. The media used to be fun, despite the haters, but I had the best time using social media and doing interviews. Now it made me nervous because I had to sit in anxiety waiting for some pressing question about being a father. As horrible as it sounded, there was a part of me that wished I hadn't taken her in. 

"Look who's ready for tour!" mum's sing song voice rang through the stairs as she and Melody walked hand in hand into the family room. I had been waiting for the two of them for the past forty minutes. The car taking us to the airport would be here at any moment now, and of course the females of the house had to be fashionably sound. 

"Oh isn't she just adorable?" mum sighed, clearly satisfied with how she pampered the child. Melody was wearing 5SOS band merch. The black derping shirt was oversized for her tiny body but even I had to admit that she was kinda cute.

Honk. Honk.

"The car's here. Let's go otherwise I'm missing my flight to New York," I said, standing up from the couch and heading towards the door. I slipped on my backpack and grasped onto one of my very large suitcases and swung open the door. 

"Hurry up Clifford!" Calum stuck his head outside of the open window of the car, calling out to me. 

I rolled my eyes, "I'm coming you shithead." 

"Michael, language!" mum scolded. I turned my head over my shoulder to see my mother covering up Melody's ears with her hands and a shocked expression on her face. 

Oops. 

I walked out the door and towards the pair of black cars taking us to the airport. I could hear Blink 182 through the windows and the moment one of the car doors opened, the sound reverberated much louder.

Luke sat with a large grin painted on his face, "oh my gosh!"

"Hi Lu-- Luke?" my faced drooped as I turned around to look at the tall ass boy jump out of the car in a haste and run past me. He crouched lower as he approached Melody, who held out her arms ready for Luke's embrace. 

"How's my favorite girl?" Luke asked, picking up Melody and resting her on his hip. 

"Oh my gosh, is she wearing our merch?" Ashton gasped, leaping out of the car. "Aw so cute, she's our number one fangirl." 

"Let me hold her! Melody loves her Uncle Calum more," Calum protested, "besides, she looks more like my kid than Mikey's."

I sighed, silently agreeing with Calum. Both he and Melody did share a lot of the same features like the brown eyes, tanned skin, and dark hair. I left the boys alone with Melody as I packed our suitcases into the back of the van. 

It wasn't just my mum who inadvertently adopted Melody as their own, the lads did too in a way. They liked spending time with her and she seemed to respond to them. Melody seemed to respond to everyone else except me. Kids weren't my forte, let alone raising them. I couldn't connect with Melody the way my mum or my friends could. I guessed the more they were in her life, the less I had to do. 

I'm a super fab father, I know. 

The airport was crowded as balls. Our gate wasn't just surrounded by fans, but heaps and heaps of paparazzi. I was always surprised by the amount of support we had by our fans, but all the fancy cameras and flashing lights was making me feel a little overwhelmed-- especially because I had Melody with me. She's never been seen in the public eye with me before and this was going to be her debut. 

The car slowed down against the curb before it shut off. The screaming and camera flashes ensued letting me know that it was time. 

"Sweetheart, we're here," my mum softly tapped on Melody's leg to wake her up. She fidgeted for a while before her eyelids fluttered open, still clutching onto her favorite stuffed monkey. Melody looked pissed to be woken up from her nap prematurely-- she definitely gets that from me. 

The driver opened the door and just like that I was pushed into the spotlight. Fans screamed at the top of their lungs as I jumped out of the car. I gave them a quick wave before I proceeded down the sidewalk towards the airport doors. I kept my head low, following the other boys, Jude and our mothers into our specified gate.

"Hurry up boys, no time to stop," Jude dictated. 

It was like slow motion walking through crowds in the airport. All I would see were screaming girls asking for photos and tons of cameras flashing in my face. It was always fun to me, always a thrill to see all the support but this time it wasn't slow mo. It was in fast forward; jolting; rambunctious; overwhelming. 

"Michael how are you going to raise a child while on tour?"

"Michael how are you dealing with the social media backlash of being a young father?"

"Michael do you believe taking your daughter on tour is a responsible move?"

I didn't want to hear it anymore. I was tired of the stupidity and the audacity of these journalists. They were only looking for a good story to publish, something juicy for their readers. I never thought I'd say this, but for once I felt like Miley Cyrus-- and not in the successful type of way. In the, "Miley is scandalous" way.

"Michael… Michael… Michael!"

I snapped back into reality when I realized my name left the mouth of not a reporter, but from my mum. I turned my head to see mum holding onto Melody's hand, her face flushed and stained with tears. She was scared, frightened with the commotion she wasn't used to. My mum was struggling to keep her calm and the other boys were busy taking selfies with fans. I caught glimpse of the reporters who stood there just waiting for something to happen. They gawked at me with judgmental eyes; watching the fucked up teenaged rockstar father neglect his child. 

So I picked her up. I turned back, crouched down to Melody's level and lifted her off of the ground and held her to my chest. I gave her a back rub, as she continued to cry. 

"Melody, calm down," I cooed, walking through the last of the crowd, but she kept crying. Sniffles, hiccups, the whole nine yards, Melody was having a juvenile panic attack. 

"My monkey!" Melody cried, her high-pitched shrieks shocking my eardrums. I back heated up and grew nervous as her screams increased in decibels. 

She was reaching her arms behind me and I turned around to see that her stuffed monkey was lying face down on the ground. I let out a groan, turning on my heel and running to the damn toy, picking it up swiftly and handing it back to Melody. If this was just one trip to the airport, I wonder what it'd be like having her on tour for the next few months. 

Once we were out of the crowd and in the lobby area by the gate, Melody was beginning to calm down. I sat down on one of the chairs with her on my lap, her head rested on my chest and her little arms grasped onto her stuffed monkey like a safety blanket. I could feel her hiccuping as she tried to regain her breathing. 

"Mum, I need her inhaler," I knew that unsettling, rattle in her lungs. Melody wasn't just some 3-year-old with all the energy in the world. Asthma, an allergy to peanuts, and her undying love for that damn stuffed monkey plagued her.

My mum passed me the small pink inhaler, and I seized it from her hands, shaking the liquid inside. Popping open the cap, I put it by Melody's mouth, who kept it close.

"Come on, you can't breath," I told her. She still wouldn't open her mouth and I got annoyed. Like seriously, does she like the feeling of not breathing? "Melody, listen to me please, this is your medicine and you need it."

Her mouth remained shut.

"Melody my girl, take your medicine please," Luke pouted, taking the empty seat next to me and dipping his head to meet eye to eye with Melody, "for your Uncle Luke?" 

She reached her arms out, leaning towards the blonde boy. Luke looked at me and shrugged, taking Melody out of my lap and placing her onto his.

"Inhaler Mikey, she's getting worse," Luke stated, holding out his hand. I placed the inhaler onto his palm with a groan and watched as Luke was able to easily make Melody take her medicine. 

Feeling overwhelmed was clearly an understatement and I don't know how the hell I was going to survive the rest of the tour with a 30-pound keychain attached to me.

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5SOS and little kids are the cutest things and will seriously be the death of me. But just imagine their kids wearing 5SOS merchandise and tiny Converse or Vans and omg. I need to stop.

I hope you guys like this chapter. If you do, tell me what you think, vote for it and share it with your friends. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story.