The Switch [COMPLETED]

Chapter 32

Paisley Monroe:

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. The mob seemed to collectively catch its breath for a split second of silence before we were once again bombarded. Tucker was yelling, "I'm sorry," over and over again in Asher's ear while Asher was steadfastly ignoring him with a look of pure malice on his face.

I was standing there stupidly, still trying to process what was happening as microphones and cameras were being shoved under my nose.

"When did you guys start dating?"

"Is it serious?"

"Who is she?"

"Are your days of being a lady's man over, Asher?"

"Are you in love?"

I began to feel sick to my stomach as the crowd pushed closer and closer. I had never been one to suffer from claustrophobia, but I felt like I was about to crawl out of my skin as the throng of bodies crept further into my personal space, and the camera flashes were giving me a headache.

"NO COMMENT!" I heard a familiar voice yell through the chaos. I turned to look beside me and saw Asher, his eyebrows pulled down into a furious scowl. "Come on - we're getting out of here," he growled, grabbing my hand.

This only made the paparazzi more feverish as they fought to get the exclusive shot of Asher Halen and his girlfriend holding hands in public, but Asher ignored them, pushing and shoving through the crowd until we were safely on the other side of the wall of people with Tucker following close behind us.

"I'm sorry, man, I'm so sorry! I panicked!" Tucker exclaimed once we were free of the crowd.

Asher said nothing, but continued to pull me towards the awaiting black van with more force than I thought necessary. The paparazzi followed us for a bit, snapping pictures the whole time while the fans in the mob were tweeting, Instagramming, and Facebooking like mad on their cell phones. By the time we crawled into the backseat of the van and slammed the door against the reporters' faces, news of Asher Halen's mysterious new beau was plastered all over the web. 

I was in shock. I stared blankly ahead of me at the back of the driver's seat, my mind completely numb while I dimly heard Asher berating Tucker next to me.

"What the hell, man?!" he bellowed once the van had pulled away from the curb and begun driving towards safety. I saw him reach over and push Tucker in the chest with all of the force his weak little arms could muster, and I winced. 

"I'm sorry, man!" Tucker groaned, rubbing the sore spot on his chest. "I told you, I panicked! It's not that big of a deal, though. We'll fix it!"

"How?!" Asher yelled angrily, running his hands through his hair. "Ugh, this is just...perfect," he mumbled, slouching down into his seat with a defeated slump of his shoulders. "I don't DATE," he spat to no one in particular before crossing his arms over his chest. "Especially not someone like Paisley."

That was all it took to finally snap me out of my daze. 

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" I snapped, glaring at Asher with offense clearly written into my expression. 

Asher looked at me and did a double take, almost as if he had forgotten that I was still there at all. 

"Oh, crap, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant -"

"You just meant that you don't date girls like ME," I said, masking the hurt I felt with anger. "You date supermodels and actresses and pop stars, not boring nobodies like me, is that right? Well I'm soooo sorry, Asher. I'm so sorry that I'm not good enough to fit in with your precious little 'image.'"