𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚 ⚣ 𝙘𝙩𝙝+𝙖𝙛𝙞 ✔

7

their fits (ik y'all don't care what dylan's wearing so i didn't include it) (also he's not even apart of this one)
this chap gon make u feel some mixed feelings ok.

-

The music was loud, dominating the atmosphere. The frequently changing lights gave the room a sort of mysterious feel. The smell of cheap cologne, cigarette smoke and alcohol filled the air. It was a hundred different conversations all fueled by one thing: intoxication. The crowd was young, rowdy, and anything but aloof.

It was not Calum's scene. Not anymore, at least. He didn't know how to live his life. He didn't know how to get drunk and go home with a stranger. He didn't know how to be single, young, or free. Free to do whatever he wanted. Whoever he wanted. (The mere idea of that made him nauseous). In fact, the only reason he was there was to see Michael, who had insisted he come by and check out the place.

Calum was told it was a bar. This was clearly a club. A small, exclusive kind of club, but a club. (Then again, isn't that the way of most establishments?). Calum hadn't been to a club in years and years, but it wasn't like anything he remembered. He was not at all familiar with these type of people or this type of place. And he didn't want to get used to it.

He wasn't shocked by how packed the place was. Harry had a lot of friends. Business associates. Partners. Whatever he was calling them at the moment. But none of them were good people. Harry claimed to no longer be apart of that crowd, but both Calum and Michael doubted that. Still, it was money, and it wasn't illegal to make drinks.

"So this guy you met-" Michael started, pouring a beer for his maori friend. "What's he like?"

Calum instantly flushed at the mention of the man. "He's really sweet. And pretty. And smart."

"And what else?" Michael prodded, knowing Calum wanted to talk more.

"He has such a nice smile-" Calum gushed, taking the beer from his friend's hand. "He's such a gentleman and he compliments me a lot, but I don't understand why..."

"He compliments you a lot because you're worth complimenting, Cal."

"Nope." Calum shook his head. "That can't be it."

"You're so difficult." Michael let out a delicate, airy laugh.

Calum shrugged and took a drink of his beer.

"Well anyway, he sounds like a real catch." Michael smiled encouragingly. "When do we get to meet him?"

"We haven't even really gone on a first date yet-" Calum tugged his plump bottom lip between his teeth. "But maybe soon, if this turns into something. I'm still a bit of a skeptic."

"Naturally." Michael teased. He then had to leave to tend to customers, and that was okay. Calum wasn't really planning on going far, or hanging with anyone. He was just going to sit in his corner, enjoy his beer and people watch. Which is exactly what he did for a solid hour, until a familiar laugh rung out through the establishment.

"You've gotta be kidding me." He groaned. How the fuck was Ashton here right now?
Why the fuck was Ashton here right now?
The laughter that he had grown so accustomed to hearing each day filled the air once again. He didn't know why Ashton was even at a bar. He didn't drink. Did he?

The man told him he never drank, and that he most likely never would. He said it hurt too much. Brought back too many memories. Didn't appear as though that was still the case. But it was totally fine, because Calum didn't have to worry about him anymore. It wasn't his problem. Except maybe, deep down, he still cared about him. And maybe, even though he deserved to hurt, Calum didn't want him to.