Burn ▹ Ashton Irwin

forty one

A few days passed after Ashton and I discovered the mystery of the missing money, and unfortunately the mystery has only grown since. I continue to ask Ashton if he has any idea of what happened to the 600 dollars that disappeared over the weekend, but every time I ask him he gets irritated and tells me to drop it. I think he's just as confused and frustrated as I am.

Business has been surprisingly slow since we arrived in Las Vegas, and I'm a little disappointed because Ashton had said this place would be crawling with drugs to deal and stores to rob. From the 600 dollars that went missing, we've only gained about 200 back. Which is okay, but still. Our net loss of 400 dollars is a major step back for us, for Ashton and I don't have the time for all this. It's already nearing the middle of July, and September is just around the corner. And the day the calendar turns to the 1st of September, is the day Ashton will either live or die. I don't even want to think about those possibilities, and that's why we need to be safe.

I woke up on what I think was a Tuesday morning, in the same motel we've shared since we got to Vegas. The curtains were closed so no sunlight came through the window, giving me extra time to sleep in without and disruptions. The reason I did wake up, however, was because I began to feel peculiarly lonely. The bed instantly felt empty when I was alert enough to feel it.

When I blinked my eyes open and sat up, shaking my messy hair out of my face, I turned to my right. I was expecting to see Ashton next to me, snuggled up and drooling into his pillow like he always is, but he wasn't there. The bed was empty, Ashton wasn't anywhere in the room, and of course I immediately start to panic.

"Ashton?" I called out, throwing the blankets off my legs. I staggered off the bed and ran to the middle of the room, turning in all different directions. "Ash?"

I speed-walked to the bathroom and shoved the door open, but it was empty, too. I spun around and drastically searched his side of the bed. His phone was gone, his shoes were gone, and when I put my hands on the sheets they were cold.

"Oh no," I backed up against the wall and vigorously shook my head. Where was he? I thought. And of course, in my current state of mind, I automatically assumed the worst.

I dashed to the other side of the room, tripping and sliding a few inches forward on my knees to get to my backpack. I grabbed some shoes and shoved them onto my feet, already on the verge of crying. I stood up and prepared myself to run out of the room and most likely get myself lost as I desperately search for him.

Just as I was about to grab my phone and book it, something caught my eye on the bed side table. There was a little note sitting up against the lamp, written on the motel's complimentary pad of paper. I know that surprisingly neat handwriting anywhere, so I grabbed it and let my eyes scan over the words.

Dear Stubs

I couldn't sleep so I went to watch the sunrise and most likely sit in the paris hotel. I know you said you wanted to watch the sunrise with me next time, but you just looked so fucking cute while you slept. Don't worry, I'll get you a burrito. -Ashton

And, as if on queue, the moment I finished reading Ashton's note, the front door squeaked open. I glanced over my shoulder as Ashton wobbled in, with (of course) a take-out bag in his hand. He smiled when he saw me, and then set the bag down on the bed. "Hi, Skylar." he said, tugging his hoodie off his body.

I let out a sigh of relief and tossed the note back down on the bedside table. "Oh. There you are," I breathed. "Hi."

"Sorry. Did I worry you?" he asked. I only shrugged in response, not wanting him to be suspicious over the fact that I was very worried.