Dynasty Decapitated

Claw My Way Out Through These Walls

((Hey guys um why is Luke bad at like wearing clothes? Feel like that's a pretty cut and dry concept and yet he's just..... bad? His brother owns a CLOTHING LINE and he's still that BAD??

Whatever okay title from Young Blood by the Naked and Famous, who are on the phone with their lawyer right now,))

There are few things that can distract Calum when he's deep in thought. One is Ashton, usually, who has a terrible habit of seemingly waiting patiently until Calum starts getting carried away in his mind before saying something. It was usually a voiced thought, a phrase that only mattered to the point of getting Calum out of his head and back into the real world. Now, Ashton is gone, and Calum's been stuck in his head for a day and a half. He's laying in bed, water bottle in hand, moving his other slowly to place small pieces of granola in his mouth while his thoughts run rampant.

He's stuck in a loop of what if Ashton had woken me up before he left and what if I'd woken when Ashton had left when he's pulled abruptly from his head and shoved back down to earth. His heart is pounding in his chest, beating against his already sore ribs, as cold air rushes to his warm, fuzzy brain. He freezes in place with his fingers covered in granola, halfway to his mouth. Whatever had pulled him out of his haze seems silent now, apart from footsteps thudding in the distant stairwell. His neighbors coming home.

He glances at the clock and sees it's around 6 pm, they're probably getting off work and rushing home for dinner. There's a soft patter of rain against his window and a low rumble of thunder from outside. But that's usual. There's nothing out of the ordinary about the noise, so he doesn't know what could have possibly woken him so abruptly. He senses danger, but he doesn't know what danger.

Maybe his connection with Ashton has suddenly decided to work and alert him to something going wrong. But he can't feel the typical tugging in his chest that comes with his spidey senses.

Calum sits up and bed and looks around, trying to observe every sound his ears can bring at once. Nothing sounds unusual. Nothing is alerting him to anymore danger. After a few minutes of listening, he figures it must have been some sort of hoax and rubs his hand down his face.

Since he's already out of his head, he stands and stretches, first reaching towards the sky and then touching his toes. He's thinking about making his way towards the shower, twisting his body to the left in an unlikely attempt to crack his back. His fingers reach under his shirt and rub over the two small bumps on his side from Michael's damn knives.

When he stretches right, he closes his eyes to try to wake up a little more, but opens them up when he hears a soft scraping from the hall. Behind him, a figure is standing in the doorway, whole body heaving, droplets of water dropping off the big hoodie and sweatpants. A flash of lightning catches soft wisps of red hair and Calum breaths a soft sigh of relief.

"What the fuck do you want?" He mutters.

Michael throws the hood off his head when he realizes he's been spotted, splattering raindrops over the framed photos lining the walls of the hallway. His eyes are wide and focused, he's not wearing his suit. Calum rarely sees his skin, so he flinches automatically at the sight of the red bumps and flaws. Someone must have died for him to take off his suit and come all the way across town without it.

"Y'alright?" Calum drawls softly. He slowly turns to face Michael while thunder rumbles behind them again.

Michael says nothing, but pulls a flip phone from his pocket and holds it out. Calum looks at him suspiciously because he knows for a fact that Michael owns an iPhone 4 for no reason. Eventually, he takes it, fingers scraping against the bumpy skin of his palm, and opens it slowly. There's a single photo on the phone screen, so Calum navigates over and clicks it, quickly realizing it's a video. He presses play and glances up at Michael nervously.