gay || afi (side lashton)

Prologue

Ashton Irwin.

A name I wouldn't-couldn't forget even if I tried to.

He currently lives in New York but he once lived across the street, back here in Sydney. We used to be the best-est friends and we almost always did everything together. It was like as if we were each other's other half. Everything was perfect......until I screwed up four years ago.

It was 11 o' clock on a Saturday night and I was in my pink, sheep-printed pajamas, watching the newest episode of Family Guy on my laptop on some pirated website that asked if I was a robot or a human and asked me to fill out a survey just to prove that I am in fact, human. I was lying on my front with a bowl of popcorn by my side and I was fairly happy with how I'm spending my Saturday night. Nights like this have been rare to me especially now that my grandmother's Alzheimer's disease had gotten worse over the years and she'd frequently have panic attacks every time she saw one of us, claiming she didn't know any of us. There are times though that she knows us, sometimes even baking cookies for the family or even brushing my hair with an old antique comb she has kept (according to her) ever since she was a little child. My phone suddenly beeped I reached over my bedside table, laughing as Peter made a funny remark about Meg. I plopped down on my spot once again, eating a mouthful of popcorn before checking my messages.

"Ash: I AM FREAKING OUT (11:16)," it read. I rolled my eyes and typed in a reply. Ashton was usually like this-every time he forgot to do his homework, or maybe forgot to do his laundry or broke his mother's precious porcelain vase. It wasn't rare for me to receive texts like this. Especially from him.

Me: What is it this time? (11:16)

I placed my phone beside me and continued watching. I wasn't going to let this ass ruin my peaceful Saturday night. I was in the middle of watching Quagmire trying to flirt with Meg when suddenly my phone beeped once again. Maybe it's not as important as I thought it'd be since it took him like five minutes to reply back. I decided to check the text message later and continued to eat my popcorn, watching Quagmire and Meg in her room, showing each other flash cards. I groaned internally when I heard my phone beep again. I tried my best to ignore it but it kept beeping and beeping and beeping until I couldn't take it anymore. I instantly sat up and snatched my phone, crossing my legs beneath me. I opened up my phone only to see 8 messages from this doofus.

Ash: I AM HAVING A CRISIS (11:23)

Ash: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY (11:23)

Ash: LIKE SERIOUSLY CARRIE WTF WHY AREN'T YOU TEXTING ME BACK (11:25)

Ash: THIS IS A SERIOUS MATTER (11:25)

Ash: I AM GOING TO DIE I AM SO DEAD (11:25)

Ash: SRSLY BRUH IM DEAD (11:28)

Ash: like as in I need you right now (11:30)

Ash: Carrie, I need you right now. (11:34)

Once I read the last text, I jumped up from my bed and ran to my door. The whole house was asleep and I tried to be as quiet as I can be, tiptoeing past their door (I can seriously hear my dad snoring) and carefully climbed down the stairs. Luckily, I had a spare key to the back door (in case of an emergency) and hurriedly exited the door. I ran around to the front and across the street, wearing my stupid pj's and pair of flip flops. Thankfully, the lights on their front porch were still on which meant that Ashton's there probably waiting for me. Once I reached their doorstep, the front door suddenly opened up (before I can even knock), revealing a very tired-looking Ashton (which only proved that he was in fact, waiting for me). I walked the rest of the steps, running towards him. The look in his eyes was pure confusion and I was pretty sure that something's up.

"Ashton," I said softly, reaching my arms out to him and he pulled me in, engulfing me in a big warm embrace. I pulled away from him, "Why?" I asked. He looked at me for a moment, muttering a small "I don't know," before walking back inside, leaving the door open-a cue for me to follow behind. I trailed behind him as he led me to the living room. I took in my surroundings, the smell of sweat and cheese instantly filling my nose. I sat down the pillow-filled couch while he went off to kill the lights. The TV was on, showing re-runs of an old episode of Spongebob with a bag of Doritos (probably why it smelled like cheese) and a large Coke resting on the coffee table.

"Why did you call me up?" I asked as I narrowed my eyes at him. He sighed and sat down beside me, rubbing his face with the palms of his hand. "Carrie," he sighed slowly, "I think..."

"What?" I put my hand on his shoulder, "Tell me."

"I, um, I," he turned his head to look at me, "I think I'm gay."