1974 || 5SOS

Chapter 5

Scarlett

A radio somewhere was playing Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain," the voices drifting in and out like a ghost. The morning light cut through the haze, casting a faint glow on the posters tacked up around the room—Janis, Jimi, Bowie. I blinked, piecing together fragments of the night and half-wishing I could slip back into the haze. I heard the sound of voices, low and muffled, slipping through the cracks of my hazy dreams. For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the memory of Ashton's kiss from the night before—the warmth of his hands, the way his lips had felt like a promise. But as reality set in, the conversation filtering through the door pulled me back to the present.

I recognized Calum's voice immediately, stern and yet careful, as if he were trying to say something important without tripping over his words.

"... Just let me know next time, alright?" His voice was soft but clear, like he was walking a tightrope.

The response was quieter, but unmistakable. Ashton.

My heart jumped at the sound of his voice, smooth and familiar, the same one that had whispered to me in the quiet of the cove. But something in his tone made me sit up—detached, like he was already halfway out the door.

I kicked off the sheets and hurried to the doorway, my pulse quickening with every step. But when I reached the front room, Ashton was already gone.

Calum stood by the door, running his hands through his curly hair, in frustration. His eyes widened when he saw me. "Morning, Scar."

"Where's Ashton?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Calum hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "He... uh, left."

"Left?" I echoed, disbelief tightening my chest. "When? Why?"

He shrugged, shifting on his feet like he wanted to be anywhere else. "He didn't say much. Just that he had to go. You know how he is—always leaving, always moving."

The knot in my chest tightened. "He didn't say anything to me."

Calum gave me a sympathetic look, but it didn't help. If anything, it only made the ache worse. "Yeah... he does that sometimes. Disappears without notice. It's kind of his thing."

I stood there, stunned, the weight of his words settling over me like a heavy blanket. My mind raced, replaying every moment from the night before. The kiss, the way he'd looked at me, the things we'd shared. I'd felt something real between us—something that mattered.

Hadn't I?

"Did he say when he'd be back?" I asked, my voice smaller than I wanted it to be.

Calum shook his head. "Nope. Could be a couple days. Could be a couple weeks. That's just... Ashton."

I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back the rush of emotions bubbling to the surface. Embarrassment, frustration, hurt. I'd let myself believe, just for a moment, that I meant something to someone. And now, they were gone—just like that.

"You okay?" Calum asked, his voice soft, like he already knew the answer.

"Yeah." I forced a smile, though it felt flimsy and fake. "I'm groovy."

But I wasn't. Not even close. I wanted to believe it, to be that effortless, sun-soaked girl who shrugged off things she couldn't control. But the words felt like slipping on a pair of shoes two sizes too small—tight, uncomfortable, wrong.

Calum rubs the back of his neck and says, "He always comes back, Scarlett. It's just how he's wired. He drifts, but there's this part of him... it always circles back."