5SOS imagines and preferences

He Calls You Something Hurtful

Michael: "I just don't understand you, (Y/N)!" Michael fumes, as he stands defensively. 

You were quickly growing more angry at your boyfriend with each passing moment, "You don't understand what?" You retorted.

"I don't understand why you have to be such a bitch all the time!" 

"...Well, this bitch doesn't need you!" You reply, your voice becoming venomous as you spit out each word. You turn to walk out the door of the tour bus, and quickly get into your car, hopeful that there were no fans milling about to see you trying to keep your hot tears from brimming over.

Thrusting the car into drive, you speed down the highway, your foot never letting off the gas pedal as you navigate towards your small apartment. Replaying the exchange again and again in your head, you barely registered arriving and getting into your small apartment until you collapsed on the floor, just after closing the front door. 

Calum: You could taste your salty tears as you rushed past the photographers, not even trying to hide your face from the flash of their cameras as you exit the small venue; Calum jogged after you and was able to quickly catch up to you. Grabbing your arm, he spins you around to face him, his face flushed from exertion. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He says harshly, still gripping your arm tightly. 

You stared and him for a moment in disbelief, "I'm done. I was done and I'm trying to leave..." you say quietly, trying to tug your arm out of his reach.

"This isn't what you should be doing, (Y/N). You know how bad this will make me look in the papers! You're so damn stupid." 

Calum is surprised to see the smile cross your face as you break into a peel of laughter, "I suppose it's time for this 'stupid' girl to wise up then. Bye, Calum!" You say loudly, gaining confidence and jerking your arm away from your now ex-boyfriend. 

You could hear Calum cursing as you walked away, but you didn't even  look back, for fear of him seeing the faux smile and forced laughter fade from your face and the heartbreak settle in to stay. 

Luke: "You were chatting with your mates and I'm a big fan of his, so I told him. I don't understand what the big deal is...?" You ask, after Luke had interrupted your talking with another male artist, dragging you to the back of the large hall.

"The big deal is that we're at the damn Grammys and my girlfriend is chatting up another dude!" Luke bellows, not noticing the others that are beginning to stare.

You place your hand on his chest, looking up at him with imploring eyes, "Calm down, Luke. You know I didn't mean anything by it...." 

"Please, you're such a whore, (Y/N). I know you definitely meant something by it. Did you guys get a chance to make plans to fuck later or did I interrupt that?" Luke retorted, his eyes full of malice. 

Taking your hand off his chest, you quickly look away from him as you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You make your way to the door, holding your dress up to escape the situation faster; as you open the door, you look back to see Luke simply staring at you, mouth agape as if he meant to yell after you but you quickly walked out the door before you heard what else could come out of Luke's mouth. 

Ashton: "...Whatever, Ashton!" You said, your voice rising, "You're going to do whatever you bloody well please anyway!" Your words were a blade, cutting through the previously calm environment. You stood in the middle of the hotel room, Ashton several feet away from you and your anger. 

"Why are you so damn dramatic all the time, (Y/N)?" Ashton huffed, striding towards you. He towered over you. 

You said nothing, only thinking about how much you'd love to storm out. However, an outburst of that nature would only support your boyfriend's argument and you refused to help him.

Several tense moments passed between the two of you and he smirked, "Trying to prove a point, darling?" He said, his voice sick with contempt, "I can fill your shoes this time. I'll be back later ... maybe." Ashton moved away from you and the argument, grabbing his leather jacket and slamming the heavy door as he left.

You stood in the same spot for what seemed like ages as you lost track of time, replaying the confrontation over and over. Funnily, no tears came, only the sadness that accompanied spending another night alone in another hotel.