Ashton: Coincidentally, you had fallen asleep on your couch, watching Friends reruns until you literally couldn't anymore. It wasn't just the banging at your door that made you wake up, but the yelling, too. "Please." The mysterious voice sobbed and slurred, "Just let me in." It sounded like a he, so that's what you were going with. "I'm so sorry! I want to fix this, p-please!" What sounded like nails against wood soon replaced the banging, and you thought it was one of two things: 1. A very large cat that could talk, or 2. A guy with very long nails. Nervously, you brought your tired body to the door, peeking through the peephole only to see that it was a human male. "I really just," Hiccup, "Want to talk to you." Hiccup. Worriedly, you unlocked the door and opened it a few inches, watching his face crinkle in sadness. "Who-" Hiccup, "who are you?" He was pouting, and still slurring his words. Clearly drunk, and not hiding it. His face resembled a small puppy's when you leave them behind to go to the store, and sorry filled your heart. "I'm Y/N." You told him concerned. "You're not my girlfriend." It didn't sound like "girlfriend" because as the word came out, he began crying. In all your life, you had never seen a man cry like this before. There's always a first for everything, though. "Are you alright?" Opening the door wider, you reached for his arm, wanting to help him in any way you could. The estranged man shook his head no, and you rushed him inside, plopping him down onto the couch where you had just been sleeping, and snoring. "Here," You ordered, sliding him the box of tissues, and making sure he had them. Hurrying to the kitchen to grab him a bottle of water, you heard him blowing into tissue after tissue; you expected the box to be gone by the end of this. "Take this." You handed him the bottle of water, sitting down next to him, and watching patiently as he calmed himself down. "Thanks." He hiccupped. "Who were you trying to see tonight?" You waited a few minutes to ask the question, hoping it would give him enough time to be calmed down enough that he wouldn't burst back into sobbing. "My girl-" He began with a shaky breath, "My ex-girlfriend." It was no mystery that the artery was still painful, and you didn't want to pry too much into his business. After all, he was only there by drunken mistake. "I'm sorry." You consoled, giving a sympathetic smile. You weren't sure he was even at the right apartment complex, but there was no way he would be able to navigate in the condition that he was in. "It's really late." You began, and he chimed in. "I know, I'll leave." "No!" You said too quickly, "I mean, it's already 3:18, you might as well just crash here. I promise I'm not going to steal anything from you." His smile mirrored your own, "Dido."
Michael: It was way over due, and we're talking a year and a half's worth of relationship cramped into a box that you were half tempted to catch on fire, or throw it in front of a large freight truck. Either way you'd be able to watch in glory and take in the triumph of feeling done with him, ready to take on the next step in your life. However, both of those scenarios, while ideal for you, were both dangerous and well out of your midst of ability. The probability of your apartment catching on fire, or you being thrown in front of the truck instead, was highly applicable. So, instead of risking your life, and wellbeing, you rested on the idea of simple tossing it in the large waste removal tin that was right outside the back entrance of your building. It was considered an alleyway, but not big enough for cars to fit down it. It was also where your balcony sat facing, with the fire escape and stairs leading down to the floors below and above. The box wasn't all that heavy, but the more you thought about it, the more it was a struggle to handle. With your hands securely around it, you began your journey down the steps of the building. It was only five floors, and you were on three, so it wasn't hell trying to walk 10 flights of stairs. You were on a roll, with limited sight because of the box, you had managed to make it down 2 flights of stairs. You were ok until you abruptly smacked into someone else, making the box slip out of your hands and spill out some of its items onto the landing. "So close." You mumbled, peeking up to see a man, quite attractive on at that, staring at you, startled. "Sorry." You told him, "I tried to go as fast I could without falling, but it didn't work." He began laughing. At first you thought it was at the situation, but then you realized he was looking at the spilled items from the box. Among them were a small teddy bear, a very embarrassing photo of you and your ex, and some more teddy bears. "Getting rid of your childhood?" He snorted, holding his stomach from laughing so loudly. "No!" You hurried to put the items back into the box, quickly so he wouldn't have time to poke fun at anything else. Once you had it all situated, you took the box back in your hand and stood back up, glaring at him. "If you must know, it's stuff from...a breakup." Your voice became soft, and you could feel his eyes on you soften from a harsh laughter to one of sadness for you. "But I'm getting rid of it, so that's a good sign!" Your sudden cheerfulness made him smirk. "Yeah!" He cackled, "When you're done disposing of those, how about having a beer with me?" It was such a quick proposal, but seeing as you were officially closing the door in your hands, you were more then ready to open the next one.
Luke: "I had a really nice time, Luke." You lightly kissed his cheek as you sat in his car, already there was a comfortable silence amongst you. "Do you want to come in for a little bit?" He asked, reaching over to give you thigh a squeeze. At first you were unsure if you wanted to take that risk, the risk of going inside, because there were so many different scenarios that could happen. Of course your mind raced through every single one so quickly. Still, you grinned at him, "Sure." Luke removed his hand from your leg and you both shuffled out of the car. He walked with you like a gentleman up to his front door, swiftly taking a key from his keychain and unlocking the door. "You have such a nice place." You told him, twirling around in the entryway, doing a quick 360 of what you could see. Family pictures decorated the wall, making it seem like the most perfect family home, happy faces in each picture were shown and made you smile to yourself. Luke reached a hand behind your back and escorted you to the living room, "You can make yourself at home if you want." His voice was so soft and delicate, just like his touch, something else you had come to admire about him in your brief four dates. You hoped things would get serious, after your last relationship was a complete disaster Luke seemed to be everything you were missing out on. "Do you want something to drink?" "I'm ok." You replied, watching him strut away, into the kitchen to fix himself something. In the time that he was gone you took it upon yourself to sneak peaks at all the pictures that were hanging on the wall of the entryway. There was something about big families that felt nostalgic, and when you got a better look at some of them a wide, beaming smile spread across your face. You chuckled here and there as your eyes carefully scanned over the goofy pictures that were thrown into the bunch. Your eyes were crinkled with happiness until you spotted a familiar face in one of the photographs, although for you, it wasn't a friendly familiar face. "Y/N?" Luke's voice perked into your thoughts. "Oh, you've found those gems." He laughed at you. "Um, who is this guy?" You had to make sure you were seeing things correctly, and hopefully it was all a misunderstanding. "Him?" Luke stepped closer, looking at the same picture. "That's my brother, Jack." Replying nonchalantly, you gave him a furrowed glance. "Who?" You choked out. "My brother." He repeated with a chuckle. Jack, the same ex-boyfriend you broke up with only a few months ago was the same brother of Luke's. "I um, I have to go." It was a clear mistake to let anything happen with Luke if it meant you were going to be near Jack every now and again, even if that mistake meant giving up something you wanted so badly.
Calum: You thought you were in the clear. It had been three whole days since the breakup, and you were only now getting the chance to be alone and cry in solitude. Triumphantly, you had gone through the first five stages of the breakup. You were desperate for answers Tuesday at 9 pm, in denial at 10 that night, the next morning you were willing to do anything to avoid accepting that it was over, then during lunch you relapsed and tried getting back with your now ex, then you were angry the rest of Wednesday. Now, Thursday was around and you were ready to cry. Even if crying yourself to sleep on Tuesday wasn't enough, today would have to do. Your roommate had told you she had some errands to run and wouldn't be home for a couple of hours, so you took advantage of the time and drew yourself a nice warm bath and sat in the tub for a little while, crying until you were sure the tub was filled with your tears and not just the water. "Um Y/N?" Frantically, you tried to cover your body as the door to the bathroom opened. "Calum?" Your roommate's friend was standing in the doorway shocked that he just walked in on you in the tub. You hoped he didn't see anything that would make things awkward because you barely knew him as it was. All he was to you was your roommate's friend. "Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry." He covered his eyes, but stayed in the doorway. "Can I help you?" Wiping your face on the back of your hand, you snatched the towel that was sitting on the counter next to the tub, hurrying to stand before he opened his eyes. "Are you feeling ok? I heard you crying in here." Chuckling, as your way of being sarcastic, you allowed the tub to drain. "I don't know." You shrugged. "You can open your eyes by the way." "Oh, sorry." He peeked through his fingers and removed his hand. "Do you want to talk about it?" You thought curiously why he would be offering a shoulder to cry on, but a shoulder to cry on was exactly what you needed. Minutes later you had your biggest pair of sweatpants on, with a hoodie, your hair in a gross bun, a box of tissues in your lap. "And I just don't know why. Things were going so well." You sobbed that line a thousand times by now, making this Thursday's spewing top the record. "It'll be ok. If you want my opinion, he was an asshole anyway." Calum made you smile, a genuine stretch that you didn't expect would come until much later. "Well," Calum shuffled off the couch and to the TV. "I bet if we watch a movie, you'll feel better." "Oh yeah?" He nodded, "How does A Million Ways to Die in the West sound?" You grinned, another genuine notion, "A goofy comedy never sounded better then it does right now." That night, you were able to get through the next two stages of grieving a breakup: acceptance and hope.
