To Build A Home || c.h

Chapter 29

Calum's POV:

I was constantly seconds away from having a panic attack while telling the story, but Claudia knew exactly how to prevent it, luckily. It took up the rest of our session, and now that it's over I feel weirdly relieved. It feels good to have talked through it with someone. Maybe I should have tried it earlier.

I get out of the building and start walking towards Aunt Claudia's house. We're staying at her place until we get everything settled in our own house, and let me tell you; they are really annoying to live with when they're together. They talk and laugh loudly 24/7 regardless of what time it is or whether I'm trying to sleep or not. They never knock on the door before they enter my room, and they won't let me play my music out loud anymore. When it was just one of them, they never said anything, but now there's two of them and they've obviously had enough of my s.hit. I can't blame them though, I am pretty annoying.

I feel my phone vibrating and sigh as I put my hand in my pocket to get it. I always have it on silent because I can't stand the obnoxious ringing tone and I'm too lazy to change it. That, and all the other ringtones sound obnoxious to me as well. It's a struggle.

I fish up my phone and answer without even looking at the caller ID. It must be my mom, I mean, who else could it be?

"I'm on my way home now," I say immediately, guessing that she's calling to see where I am. Much to my surprise, however, it's not my mom on the other line.

"Thanks for the info, but that's not really why I called," a familiar male voice replies from the other side. I quickly remove my phone from my ear and read the name on the screen. 'The Crayon (or Mikey)'.

"Michael?" I ask, not bothering to hide my confusion. Why on earth is he calling me?

"Well, that took you long enough," he chuckles, making me roll my eyes. "Anyways, I—or we—desperately need your help."

"With what?" I ask suspiciously and narrow my eyes as I put my other hand in my pocket. Is this d.amned cold ever going to go away?!

"Well, we have this upcoming gig in a couple of days at a local café—our first, not to mention—but we still don't have a bassist and it sounds stup-"

"No," I say instantly, cutting him off. I'm not going to do that. No way.

"Please! Just help us out this one time! Please!" he nearly begs, dragging out the first 'e' in 'please'. My face remains stone cold, even though he can't even see me.

"No."

"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease! Just this once! We're f.ucked without a bassist!" he says way too quickly. I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose.

"Michael, I really don't-"

"Please! We'll do anything Calum, just please help us out!" he begs again. I sigh even heavier and shake my head slightly.

"Fine, fine, but only this once, and only because I'm tired of hearing you say 'please'," I say in defeat. I can't believe I'm doing this. What's happening to me?

"Yes! Thank you so much!" he nearly yells in excitement, causing me to distance myself from the phone to prevent losing my hearing. "I promise you won't regret this!"

"I'm already regretting this," I mutter, mostly to myself, but he hears and chuckles.

"I know you love us," he replies and I roll my eyes again, but I laugh nevertheless.

"You wish."

"I don't need to," he replies and I can almost hear him smirking on the other end. "How far are you from Carol's place?"