WASTE IT ON ME

Nobody

nobody

martin jensen & james arthur

WHY?

   Why is this my life?

   "Try this one on, I haven't seen it in a hot minute."

   "Rebecca, if you make me try on one more shirt, there will be bloodshed."

   "Oh, come on, Ash! It's one night! One!" The younger sibling fights for compromise, an empty promise of the last time that she'll drag him away from his sorry excuse for an evening just one more time.

   Asher's face doesn't shift, amused disbelief sitting on his features like a mask—unmoving. "We both know that's a lie."

   "Ugh! James, please come convince my brother that a night out with actual people won't in fact, kill him."

   "It's not that I don't want to be around people, Bec, it's that I know we won't be home before dawn and I have work tomorrow. Remember? I'm a functioning human being with a job?"

   "Yeah, in a field that you hate."

   "That's not the point."

   "It should be." 

   Asher doesn't respond, rolling his eyes as he gives in and motions for her to toss the shirt she wanted him to try. With a squee, she does just that. Another four T-shirts, three pairs of pants, and five pairs of shoes later (yeah, he didn't he didn't know he had that many, either), Asher stands in front of the bathroom mirror, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. "Why am I so dressed up, again? There is literally no one to impress."

   "That you know of," Rebecca sing-songs into his ear, chin resting on her brother's shoulder as she stands on her tippy-toes.

   "She's right, you know," James says, poking his head through the door and sending a wink at her through the mirror.

   "Just because you party animals met at a club—drunk off your asses, might I add—doesn't mean I'll meet the love of my life the same way." Rebecca only giggles, following after her boy and tickling him until he begs her to stop.

   As much as Asher will never ever admit it, James and his sister were awful cute and he yearned for a connection such as theirs.

   But again, he'll never admit it.

   So he reluctantly climbs into the car, stopping only once to pick up a friend. Zeke was his name, and he tried to convince Asher he'd give up a year of alcohol if he'd just let loose every once in a while, and as much as the thought humored Asher, he turned down the offer.

   "Come on, man! Why are you so uptight?"

   "You guys, I know how to have fun, okay? Just not at eleven the night before I have a major meeting!"

   "At a job you hate," Rebecca oh-so-kindly reminds him.

   He bites his tongue, white-knuckling the steering wheel as they pull out of Zeke's driveway and toward the nearest club.

● ● ● 

"LET'S get it!" Zeke roars, opening up the door as Rebecca and James all but hurl themselves out of the vehicle. Asher takes his time, unplugging his phone from the charger, making sure he has his jacket, checking all the windows were rolled up and the doors were locked—he really doesn't want to be here, and judging by Rebecca's cocked eyebrow and death-stare of a glare, he got the reaction he's looking for.