Selfish Appetite [5 Seconds of Summer]

[35]

"Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire."

- -

Sloan

"You did what?" Ally asks, her amusement palpable as we make our way downtown.

The warm summer breeze, relentless and biting, flays against my skin, and sweat steadily drips down my temples, pooling at my jaw.

Michael, attempting to cool himself, repeatedly pushes his damp hair back, and Ally grumbles about the heat, her fingers tugging at the wild curls she spent hours straightening earlier that morning.

The sun lingers, unwilling to dip behind the horizon of this unyielding summer day. Even as it eventually sets, I suspect the heat will remain—an oppressive weight in the thick air.

"I rented a beach house." Michael says with a long, exasperated sigh, as though the admission itself bruises his pride.

"Why on Earth would you do that?" I chuckle, my voice a mix of disbelief and amusement as we turn left, the street opening up before us.

The tar beneath our feet feels oddly soft, as if it's been cooked to a pliable state under the sun's unforgiving rays.

Ally wrinkles her nose at the unpleasant smell that drifts from the street, her face contorting with distaste.

"I was high." Michael mumbles, his voice a little sheepish. "And now they won't refund me."

"Oh, this is priceless." Ally quips, delighting in his misfortune.

"What's priceless?" Calum smiles, his voice light as we settle into the booth.

I slide in beside him, and upon noticing the flush of heat on my face, he slides his drink toward me with a knowing grin. "You look like a tomato." he teases, his eyes twinkling as they trace the redness blooming across my cheeks and forehead.

"Dipshit got high and rented a beach house. Now he can't get his money back." Ally bursts out laughing before Michael has a chance to respond.

My eyes accidentally meet Luke's, and I quickly look away, the heat in my chest flaring.

It's been a couple of weeks since my birthday, and every time I see him, the tension thickens in the air. I'm not ready to deal with whatever has shifted between us—not now, not yet.

His insufferably holier than thou attitude is slowly driving me crazy.

"Maybe don't browse real estate websites when you're high?" I jest lightly, earning a middle finger from Michael in return.

As Micah arrives, he brings over extra popcorn and chips, offering them on the house with a small smile. Ally gratefully takes the bowls from his hands, and he lingers briefly, his presence a quiet comfort in the chaos.

Luke slides one of the bowls to himself and settles in, intent on his food, ignoring the conversation that swirls around him.

Ashton arrives shortly after, and Ally—true to form—wastes no time in retelling Michael's predicament, thoroughly enjoying every moment of it.

"The poor guy is out a thousand bucks and you're actually laughing?" Ashton scolds, his voice dripping with mock concern.

"Oh, please." Ally smirks. "You've picked a stellar moment to become the stern, older brother."

A new group of boisterous patrons fills the booth next to ours, their loud laughter and clinking glasses cutting through the air.

We exchange glances, the shared discomfort briefly palpable, but soon enough, we turn our attention back to one another, immune to the noise.