Rhythm || Ashton Irwin

Chapter Seventeen

Lauren’s P.O.V. 

I let out a staggered sigh as I kicked a pebble down the sidewalk in the middle of central park.  This place wasn’t the safest for me to be at night, but at this point I didn’t even care.

“You’re too young to be so sad,” I heard someone mumble from beside me, causing me to jump.  I turned my attention to the voice and saw an old man propped up on the side of a bench.  It was clear he was homeless by his bag of things laid beside him and the dirty clothes on his back.  I gave him a warm smile as I wiped my cheeks, trying to hide the tears that had been there.

“Whatever it was that made you cry, it’s not worth it,” he spoke firmly, giving me a small nod and a grin. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, reaching into my coat pocket and pulling out my wallet ready to give this man at least some of my money. 

“No,” he spoke abruptly shaking his head back and forth.  “I don’t want your money.”

Shaking my head back at him, I pulled out a wad of bills and held them out to him.  “I insist.  Go get yourself a nice cup of coffee and a comfortable place to sleep tonight.”

The smile crept onto his face as he reluctantly grabbed the money from my hand, almost afraid that this was a sick joke.  “Thank you,” he choked out as his own tears started to form.  “Thank you so much.”  I nodded, sending him another smile before continuing down the path thinking about his small piece of advice. 

What made me cry was not worth it.  In fact, nothing I had been crying about the last two days was worth it.  I had a roof over my head, plenty of money to get by, two of the most amazing best friends anyone could ask for, and I was working towards a career I really wanted.  Crying over a boy and something my mother said is not worth it.  I picked up my pace as I let my thoughts consume me.  Fuck them.  Fuck anyone that’s not willing to be by my side.  I don’t need that.  I don’t need anyone that doesn’t need me.

The only thing able to pull me out of my thoughts was the sound of someone singing Whitney Houston completely off key a few yards in front of me.  He was clearly drunk, but his two friends were trying desperately to keep him upright.  Giggling at the sight, I crossed the path trying to avoid that awkward interaction. 

“WAIT THAT’S A GIRL,” the drunken boy slurred, pointing in my direction.  His voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. 

“Michael, shut up,” one of the other boys whispered harshly.

Michael Clifford! Of course.  I squinted my eyes in his direction, just able to make out his red hair that was hidden under the hat on his head.

“Hello pretty lady,” he giggled waving at me. 

“Hi Michael,” I waved back, making him gasp in shock as I slowly approached him.

“THE PRETTY LADY KNOWS MY NAME.” 

“How the fu- Wait.. Lauren?” The closer I got, I could finally tell that Luke and Calum were the two sober friends holding up Michael. 

“Hey,” I waved awkwardly as I came to a stop a few feet away from them.

“Laaauuureeeen,” Michael smiled, tugging his arms free from Luke and Calum and engulfing me in a hug.  “Hi.”

I giggled into his chest as I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a small pat on the back.  “Hi.”

“What are you doing out here?” Calum questioned as I pulled away from Michael.

“Oh I was just-“