5SOS Sickfics

Ashton - Bad Days

* TRIGGER WARNING *

There have always been bad days, for Ashton. Ever since his dad left.

He's never really thought anything of it; they're just there, and he thinks they probably always will be, so what is there to worry about?

His bandmates disagree, but of course they would. They're so proud of themselves, of what they've accomplished, that there's no time for them to ever really be sad (of course Ashton's proud too, how couldn't he be? It's just that on bad days, it's easy to lose track).

So he's stopped telling them when he has a bad day. He doesn't need their sympathy, he decides. They don't understand.

But today, it's so hard not to. It's one of those days when all he wants to do is curl up and cry under a blanket, and his wrists itch where the faded white scars lay, and his head is pounding and it's all shit, it's all so, so shit.

And fuck, of course this had to be a really hectic day, where his bandmates' tempers are running high so he couldn't tell them even if he wanted to.

The first thing that day is an interview, and for one reason or another Michael and Luke aren't talking to each other and a string on Calum's bass snapped this morning so he's in a bad mood.

And it's down to Ashton to force a smile onto his face, for the fans' benefit because he doesn't want to let them down and the giggly happy Ash is the one they expect - hell, it's the one everyone expects, and he thinks maybe if he tries hard enough today it might be true. Usually it's not a problem for him, but on these days where he's inexplicably sad it gets pretty hard to keep the smile from sliding off his face.

But of course the interviewer had to be a bitch, and the only thing she was interested in was the newest Twitter trend. #KeepCuttingAshtonYoureTrash.

Sure he's heard about it but normally it doesn't affect him, so he's never checked it out. She rambles for a bit about the hate, and he tugs nervously at his bracelets. When she abruptly turns back to him, he tugs one so hard his fingernails drag across his wrist and he tries to ignore how good it feels.

He answers the questions as best he can, but his voice cracks occasionally when she reads some tweets out. When he turns to look at his bandmates for comfort or help, because he has no fucking clue what he's doing, Michael has his headphones in, Luke is glaring daggers at him across the sofa, and Calum has managed to sneak his phone in and he's texting.

Ashton doesn't know what to do. When he's managed to get through the whole interview, they're bundled back into the car for the next one and his bandmates entirely ignore him.

"... Cal?" he asks quietly.

Calum huffs and turns away slightly to look out of the window.

"Mikey?"

"Jesus, Ash, please shut up for once in your life." Michael snaps, scowling.

Ashton's confused. "What did I do?"

"There are four people in this band, Ashton, not just you!" Luke frowns. "Do you know how humiliating it is to be in that interview but not get to say a word because, no, Ashton has to be the centre of attention."

"All the fucking time," adds Calum.

Ashton whimpers slightly and curls up into a ball, blocking out his bandmates.

Luckily the next interview is a little better, though he doesn't say a word the whole time, leaving it up to his bandmates in the hope it'll improve their moods.

It doesn't. When they go for lunch, they're still ignoring him. It only serves to add to the shittiness of his already shitty day, and his what had been a slight headache this morning is now morphing into a migraine, making him feel physically sick.