Torn In Three | Malum, Muke, Mashton

Chapter Eleven

-Ashton's point of view-
"Michael, you're scaring me"

I watched as Michael's unreadable eyes faded to a dark green: his grip was still tight on my arm and I wanted to scream in the physical, and mental, pain he was causing me - but I was afraid one wrong move would set him off further. After long seconds of hard eye contact, Michael's breathing finally decreased and relief surged through my body as he let go of my now blood covered arm.

"What's wrong with you?" I managed to speak up, mustering up as much confidence as I could infront of the intimidating boy infront of me.

"What's wrong with me? I'm not the one who won't accept a fucking apology." Michael growled: his voice was angry however his eyes now told me otherwise.

"You think you can get away with everything you want just by one simple apology? I thought I knew you... Guess I was wrong." My reply was obviously not the one Michael wanted as I was slammed hard against the corridor wall. I groaned in agony from the pain Michael once again caused me.

"You know me Ash; you know I don't like to lose in situations like this. You know I'll get what I want, and when that day comes, oh God you will be thankful" Michael sickly smiled and leaned forward closer to my face that was now pressed hopelessly against the cold wall.

"You've done a fucking bad thing, Michael. Don't think you can ease your way back to being number one" I spat, not letting Michael's menacing look overcome me.

Michael moved the hand that was only previously stabbing my arm towards my lower region: he grinned as my breathing increased when I realised what he was doing. To my regret, I made no effort to stop him. Michael palmed me slowly and my body mocked me as I began to grow at his touch. This wasn't fair. "You are going to forgive me, babe. Promise"

Unexpectedly, Michael pulled his hand away from me and I felt a pang of disappointment. That quickly faded away as I moved my head upwards to look at the wicked boy infront of me. He couldn't be forgiven so easily, not after what he's done to me and my best friends.

**

Michael disappeared after my brief conversation with him. He never turned up to the taxi back to our hotel, so we left him. It wasn't as if we wanted them there in the first place anyway. Luke seemed dazed, as if he saw something he shouldn't have: he was pale and fidgety, like he was getting withdrawal from something - or someone. Calum seemed unfazed by the lack of Michael's presence; he stared out of the window absentmindedly as if holding his feelings in. Even being one of his best friends, I didn't feel it was my place to ask him what was making him so silent. So I kept to myself.

What Michael told me replayed in my mind for the rest of the evening:
"I'll get what I want"

What did he mean by that? More importantly, what exactly does he want?

**

-Michael's point of view-

I'm a mess. Although not regretful of what I said to Ashton, my thoughts were wild and I couldn't control it. Is this what guilt causes? Crazy over sex.

If I wanted a plan to how to fix this, I needed space. Time away from the boys who need fixing - fixing from ignorance to my apologies.  Something worked with Luke, so why not Calum and Ashton? Nothing lasts forever, I knew that the moment Luke and his sexually frustrated mind came along, yet no one said anything about setting things to right. A right that makes us all happy, of course.

Sitting down on a pavement outside the venue, I looked up towards a bar. It seemed welcoming, and since I had nowhere else to go, I made my way towards it. Once stepping in, a strong alcoholic odour entered my nostrils and I felt somewhat satisfied; the aroma pushed me deeper into the dark bar.

After buying a light beverage, I made my way towards men not too far from my age. They were all mindlessly drunk, but I just needed a human to talk to.

"Hey" I said as I approached them.

The group stopped what they were doing to face and analyse me: hopefully they liked the punk rock image I aimed for.

"'Sup" one of them said, pulling their arm forward for a handshake, which I accepted.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot, it's not like we have anything better to do" one man who's skin was covered in tattoos replied nonchalantly.

"Say you're dating your three best friends, and they find out, do you pick one or try to build back each relationship?"

"Whoa, dude, that's a pretty bad situation." A different man replied. "If I was in that situation, I would make up with all three before anything else. Then see how it plays out and decide who you love first"

"Decide who you love first," I repeated, "thank you. You helped"

"You're in that exact situation, I'm guessing?" Another new face asked me.

"You guessed correct. Guilt is taking over my life" I sighed, looking down at my untouched beer.

"You're not alone in your thoughts, mate. We practically live in this bar if you ever want to talk again"

Smiling, I nodded. "That means a lot, I'll come back"

"Looking forward to it," the men raided their glasses and I followed, pushing them together to make a loud 'clink' come from the thick glass making contact.

The drunk men were right: I need to be forgiven so that it is possible to decide who I want the most - does it matter that two out of three will be jealous? Maybe. But saying that, how can I choose a favourite out of these boys?