Shattered (Continuation of: The Chase) ▹ Ashton Irwin

Chapter Thirty Nine

AN: fun fact, I started crying while writing the last chapter -ellena :(

-

"Ashton," I sighed, pacing back and fourth in his bedroom. I've been trying to get his attention for quite some time, but he wasn't listening to me. He's been crashed down on his bed, sobbing into the pillow that was stuffed in his face. I wouldn't be over-exaggerating if I said he has been crying for a couple hours. Literally, he's been sobbing for at least 3. The moment we stepped inside of his apartment he dashed into the bedroom, and I had to follow him in and watch him cry for hours.

"I hate them!" he cried. "I hate them I hate them I hate them!"

"Would you mind telling me what the hell happened?" I asked, loudly so he could possibly hear me over his own screams.

"I fucking despise them!" he yelled with a muffled voice. "I never cared about them!"

"Ashton." I snapped. He rolled over onto his back and for a moment I was shocked by how red his eyes were before he covered them with his hands. Little drops of both sweat and tears rolled down his cheeks and forehead and his mouth formed a crooked frown as he continued to cry.

"Come on," I said softer, walking up beside the bed. "Just tell me what happened."

"Michael is such a f-fucking," Ashton said shakily. "Jerk! I hate him!"

"Ashton-"

"And Calum is too I hate him just as much!"

"Ashton-"

"And fuck Luke too! I hate them all!"

"Ashton!" I groaned, climbing up on top of him to take his hands away from his face. He seemed pretty reluctant to want to look and talk to me, so I had no choice but to strattle his waist to give me more room to drag his hands away from his eyes. I took both of his wrists in my hands, and slowly held them down at his sides. He still continued to cry, shutting his eyes and sniffling.

"What happened?" I asked for the millionth time today.

"I don't..I don't know," Ashton shook his head as he spoke. "He was just...m-mad at me and then he was talking shit about y-you so I had to punch him in the face."

I sat up at that statement, more dismay washing through me. It's pretty obvious that Michael hates me, but hearing about him talking shit about me was never a good feeling to have. What did he even say?

"Oh," I nodded. "Well you didn't have to punch him in the face, Ashton."

"Yes I did!" He exclaimed, sitting up so I sat on his lap, facing him. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me to him, and I hugged him back in attempts to calm him down. He was shaking all over, and the only excuses he had for actually breathing were these quick and airless hiccup-type breaths. He had a black eye forming, and scratch along his left cheek, and he told me it hurt his ribs when he breathed in.

"He can't say those things about you," he said quietly. "I won't alow it."

"Well what did he say?" I asked, leaning back to reconnect our eye contact. Deep down I was glad that he still knew how to stand up for himself and fight, but it was extremely unordinary to actually see it happen. I haven't seen Ashton so angry or so up for fighting in a really long time, and the fact it was with his best friend was a little odd too.

"It's not important," he sighed. "I just...they hate me. I can tell."

"Don't say that," I tried to assure him, pushing some loose curls out of his eyes. "I'm sure you and Michael will make up."

"No they all hate me," he sniffled. He looked like he was about to cry again, and my heart sank in frustration. "That was so bad, Brooke."

"Come on," I said to him, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. I pushed more hair out of his face and ran my fingertips along the side of his face, carressing it while I inspected the scratch Michael had given him. It didn't look too deep, which is good... but I realized then that since Ashton had ran straight into here to cry when we got home, he wasn't the least bit cleaned up. I quickly got up and paced into the kitchen, finding the first rag I could and running cold water under it. I came back into the room to see a teary Ashton staring down at his hands. His hands were shaking as well.