Promise » [cashton] √

3.2

[ 12th of September - Cardiff ]

Ashton was on one end of the couch signing vinyl inserts, and Calum was on the other editing photos for a brand deal. His job description was growing every day; that being said, he had actually signed a contract for it, so at least he was getting paid. The photo was stunning. He and Ashton had taken them in the dressing room in France, but he was debuting his new Signature Melody Maker at tonight's show. So Calum was putting the final touches on the edit so they could post it tonight. It was a gorgeous guitar, and Ashton had let Calum play around with it after they'd finished taking photos. It was a deep brown colour, with warm hazelly knotting through the wood. It reminded Calum of Ashton's eyes, but obsessed as he was with the younger man, he wasn't quite sappy enough to say that aloud.

In the photo, Ashton was staring at the camera, holding the guitar by its neck, a grin across his lips. Calum had earnt that grin by teasing him and asking if he knew how to play Smoke on the Water. It was gorgeous, but maybe Calum was biased. He transferred the photo over to his phone, ready to save it as a draft as he fumbled with the caption.

So pleased and honoured to have my very own Signature Melody Maker! Find it under 'Ashton Irwin, signature melody maker'. 500 units available until sold out.

Luke had said something about tagging it as an ad, but Calum couldn't remember whether he said he had to or that he shouldn't. Fuck. He hadn't spoken to Luke since he'd barged in a few nights ago; they'd been avoiding each other and doing an amazing job at it, might he add... He could go over Luke's head and ask Sierra... but if she was busy, he'd be in trouble.

The sound of Ashton's felt tip pen running over cardstock was the backing track to his crisis. Surely Luke would be civil. Ashton had chewed him out; Sierra had probably chewed him out too. All he needed to ask was, 'Do I need to tag this as an ad?'. He let out a breath, mentally preparing himself as he stood. Maybe he could ask Ashton? Ashton would have no clue; this is why they were all paid, so Ashton didn't have to know.

"Where ya going?" he asked, not looking up from his signing.

Calum looked at him for the first time in a while and realised he had made a decent dent in the pile of slicks in front of him, "need to ask Luke about this Instagram post,"

"Luke's not here, remember?" Ashton's voice went up at the end as if Calum should already know that, "you can call him, but I don't know if he's home yet,"

"Home?"

"I thought Sierra or Michael would have told you, sorry," he explained, finally looking from his pile, and Calum could see his brow was furrowed, "he left for LA yesterday morning?" He said as though he was trying to jog the older man's memory.

Calum was quiet, trying to process that Luke, the bane of his existence, the antagonist of his every move, was seemingly no longer going to be a problem. A panic needled in his chest. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? Sierra warned him, and then he did that the other night. I told him Sierra would book him a flight home,"

"He was sent home?" Calum felt like he was processing information at 1/8th his usual speed. Luke had been sent home. Luke had been sent home, and it looked like the first thing he'd done since was get Ashton to give him a blowjob. Fuck. Fuck that looked bad.

"Yeah," Ashton said, nodding slowly and twisting, pen still on the slick he was signing.

The words were out of his mouth before he'd considered the weight of them, sitting himself back on the couch, brow furrowing without his permission "I don't know if you should have done that,"

Ashton rolled his eyes, turning back to his signing, "You don't even like him,"

He tried to think about his words carefully, "That's not the point; he's your best friend. How are you supposed to fix things with him from the other side of the world?"