5SOS Preferences

Arguing

Ashton: "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME [Y/N]?!" Ashton screamed at you.
"How is it that IM the one in the wrong here when there are photos of YOU kissing someone else in EVERY magazine in the country?!" You argued back, keeping your tone as level as possible.
"Because YOU'RE the one who won't believe me! I didn't fucking do anything!"
You couldn't believe he was still lying to you, even after you had seen the pictures. You grabbed the magazine off the coffee table and threw it at him violently.
"THERE IS PROOF THAT YOU DID!" You yelled, finally losing your temper. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes, but you willed them back.
"After EVERYTHING that we've been through I can't believe that you would do this to me. I thought you loved me." You said, your voice dangerously calm.
"I..."
"Save it, Ashton. I'm leaving."
You stormed out of your apartment, only allowing the tears to fall when you were safely in the elevator.

Calum: the TV provided background noise in the kitchen as you went about making breakfast for you and your boyfriend, Calum. However, you turned your attention to the TV when you heard Calum's name.
"...Calum Hood of 5 Seconds of Summer has invested in some real estate! The global star has bought property in both LA AND New York; he's spending the big bucks! Bet his long-term girlfriend [Y/N] is thrilled!"
Calum hadn't told you about any real estate. Surely this was something he would have discussed with you first? He wandered sleepily into the kitchen with a smile on his face.
"Care to tell me about your new property?" You demanded. His smile faded immediately.
"I was going to tell you but..."
"But what?"
"Jeez, [Y/N], stop being such a bitch about this," he retorted, his tone changing completely.
"We're supposed to be this amazing couple but you just go and make life changing decisions without even consulting in me!"
"God, [Y/N], I didn't tell you. Get over it."
You couldn't believe he was being so nasty about this.
"Goodbye, Calum." You whispered, swallowing your tears.

Luke: "I am not stopping seeing him just because you don't like him, Luke!" You said firmly. You had been spending a lot of time with your best friend, Chuck, recently since he was going through a hard time at home.
"Can't you tell that he likes you? He wants more than just friendship, [Y/N]!" Luke retorted angrily.
"No he doesn't! I'm his best friend, nothing more! Why can't you understand that?"
"I know how guys work, and they never just want friendship. He wants you."
"Even if he did want me, which he doesn't, then what makes you think I would go with him just like that? I have a boyfriend, Luke!"
"Oh yeah, because if he admitted his feelings for you you would say no to him. I know how much you used to like him."
"I can't believe you don't trust me. I did like him. As in past tense. Now I have a boyfriend, but if I'm honest I'm not sure I like him that much either right now, so I'm just gonna go. I'll see you later, Luke."

Michael: "would you stop being such a bitch please, [Y/N]." Michael snapped at you.
"I've done nothing wrong," you fired back.
"Eva is not flirting with me and she does not like me, alright? We're just friends. Now would you get a fucking grip please?"
You gritted your teeth and smiled at him. This party was on a downward spiral, but you didn't want to cause a scene and make it any worse.
You wandered towards the bar and ordered a drink. As you were waiting, you heard Eva's annoying voice asking Michael if he would dance with her. Of course, he said yes. He thought she was harmless.
You sat at the bar sipping on your cocktail and watching them slow dance together, feeling the jealously burn in your veins like poison. Nothing would happen, nothing would happen... You blinked and they were kissing. Shocked, you dropped your glass, the shattering seeming louder and more violent than it should. Everything seemed to have gone into slow motion. Michael was staring at you from across the room and beginning to make his way towards you, but you were already running away from the party, away from him.