We're Getting There // A.I

Chapter 15 // Aerosmith

shoutout to all the badasses that picked up on the Percy Jackson reference last chapter ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

~*~

June 20 : 144 days till due

~Ashton~

"I'm choosing to forgive you"

I spit my wine back into my glass, drool dribbling down my chin as I rush for a napkin.

"WHAT" I splutter, wiping my face.

"I don't like that you lied to me, Ashton. But I'm willing to forgive you for some simple compromises" Erica says, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

"You mean you're staying with me? Why?" I ask, baring my teeth and scrunching my nose up on one side.

"Because we love each other. That's what love is. Compromise" Erica explains flatly. She has no emotion when she speaks, which leads me to believe what she's saying to me isn't true.

"I am going to be having twin babies in like 4 months, Erica. I honestly thought you took me here to tell me it's over" I say.

Erica stares at me blankly. She has her dark hair pulled into a tight pony tail, slicked back with hair product and shiny to look at it. I'm distracted by the blood red opal hanging at her throat on a silver chain, and I haven't been able to stop staring at it all night when I speak to her. I explained my whole story about Charlie and the babies to her pendant.

"Ashton. I'm forgiving you, why are you arguing?" Erica questions, raising her eyebrows and stabbing a piece of lettuce on her plate.

"I'm not arguing, I'm saying you're insane. You should hate me. You shouldn't want anything to do with me anymore. I wouldn't even blame you if you threw something at me, to be honest" I say, my hands on the table.

"Why should I be angry, Ashton?" She asks exasperatedly. "Because Charlie Moreau was?"

I clench my jaw and grind my teeth but say nothing. I want to kick my table in, maybe throw some plates and wine glasses, but I don't.

"Anyway," she sighs, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. "The compromises you're going to have to make."

She eats a bite of food and looks up at me, waiting to see if I'm listening.

"The first one is, I want you to wait for me to tell you we're broken up before you go and have a one night stand with a 20 year old girl" she says, dabbing at her mouth with a serviette.

Watch your fucking mouth, is what I want to say, but again, I stay silent.

"Two, is that you commit to this relationship. Even before you proposed you didn't have your heart set on it. You seemed distant since long before any of this happened. I thought it was just you finally becoming homesick, but I believe now that maybe you wanted to sow your wild oats, as people say. Experiment with other people. You've done that now, so you can fully commit to me. No more running off and having babies, okay?" She says, laughing at the end. Her laugh cuts through the conversation at the restaurant like a bell chiming and I fist the material of my pants so hard my fingers burn. She thinks her joke is really funny, but I think it's not funny at all.

She thinks I'm just galavanting around impregnating women left right and centre, likes its a hobby. What'd you do on the weekend? Oh, just got a couple chicks preggers, no biggie.

"Thirdly, Ashton, the final compromise you have to make to me is, you may never, ever, see that girl Charlie Moreau again" Erica says firmly.

Pause.

"That's fucking stupid, Erica, I'm not gonna do that" I say instantly.

"Don't swear Ashton and yes, you will" she demands, her eyes flashes briefly.

"No I won't. Cause she's gonna have my babies, and I can't just not see my own kids" I say. I also couldn't stay away from Charlie if I tried, but I don't mention that to her.

"Oh sure you can Ashton. You're a man aren't you? Don't you only get attached when you see your children? I thought this one would be easy for you, no guy wants kids when he's in his 20's!"

"What?" I ask.

"You can't possibly want the children, can you?" She repeats, smiling.

"How dare you" I growl, standing up from the table abruptly.

"Ashton sit back down" she orders, rolling her eyes.

"No....no!" I say, "don't even suggest that! I'm not gonna just walk out on my kids. Fuck that. Do you want two little kids to not have a Dad? Do you even know what it's like to have no Father? Fuck you."

I get up and leave as she calls after me, but she doesn't even really sound like she wants me to come back.

~*~

I don't remember singing Lady Gaga, but now that I'm going into my third song on karaoke, I guess it's not that surprising.

I stormed out, went home, then decided I couldn't sit still. What Erica was saying to me kept popping back up in my mind, so I went out to the nearest bar that wouldn't have Charlie in it and got insanely drunk.

Now I'm up on stage singing karaoke like I've never hit a right note in my whole life and occasionally cry in between sips of beer.

"dON'T WANNA CLOSE MAH EYESSSSSSS CAUSE I MISS YA BABEH" I moan into the microphone, stumbling around. "AND I DONT WANNA MISS A THANGGGG."

"Ashton!"

I look down and guess who's standing at the foot of the stage but Dr. Hemmings, dressed in normal clothes and looking pretty weird without a stethoscope around his neck and his usual green scrubs on.

I decide to ignore him and keep on singing.

"CAUSE EVEN WHEN I DREAM OF YOU - THE SWEETEST DREAM WOULD NEVER DOOOOO" I wail, getting down on my knees and holding the microphone stand close to my body.

"Mr. Irwin!" Dr. Hemmings yells, but again, I ignore him.

He gets up on stage and wrestles the microphone out of my grip. My small audience of equally drunken men boo, apparently enjoying my public display of embarrassment.

"What's going on?" Dr Hemmings asks, standing me upright and walking me off the stage.

"I'm a prick!" I answer sadly, letting him sit me down at a booth. He slides in opposite me and folds his hands in front of him.

"Do you do this often?" He asks and I shake my head.

"No, usually I sing Miley Cyrus, sometimes Kesha" I answer and he shakes his head.

"No, man, that's not what I meant."

He looks legitimately concerned for me and I admire that, but I'm in the middle of doing my own thing at the moment.

"You kind of cramped my style" I tell him in a whisper.

"You were really embarrassing yourself" Dr Hemmings points out. "There was really no style to cramp."

"That was below the belt" I mumble, tearing up a paper napkin.

He looks at me pitifully, his blue eyes sad.

"Can I drive you home?" He asks, putting his hand over top of mine.

I look him up and down then snort.
"Are you even old enough to drive?"

His face hardens but he takes his keys out of his back pocket anyway. Dr Hemmings jingles the keys in front of my nose. "The state of New York sure seems to think so."

~*~

Sorry for the increasingly short chapters im just not feeling that creative flow im not sure why it makes me v angry

Anyway thankyou dont forget to vote have a nice day/night I hope someone cute kisses you