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kpophours · 5 years

Text

Inked Coordinates

➵ Seventeen: Jeonghan x fem. reader / one shot, soulmate AU / fluff, a bit of angst

➵ warnings: slight mentions of death (of a parent), mentions of terminal illness, mentions of alcohol/drinking

➵ word count: 2.4k

The concept of soulmates is strange one, at least in your eyes.

You know that there is apparently that one person for everyone out there. You also know that, when you meet said special person, coordinates of the place you first bump into each other will magically ink themselves on the exact same part of your bodies. You are seriously asking yourself if anyone has ever gotten their coordinates inked on their butt, but how do ask already mated soulmates such a... rather personal question?

You don’t know where the first soulmates came from - or when exactly, nobody does, apparently.

In contrast to most of your friends, you don’t feel the need to inquire any further and you don’t really give it much thought, or at least you try to. So you rarely engage in conversations about soulmates with them - while they are practically thinking about nothing else during your High School years - even though they always try to get you to talk about it. Most of the times, you just shrug and say “If I meet them, I meet them.” They always leave you alone after that.

If you’re being honest, you’re probably just scared. Scared you’re never going to find your soulmate - something not unheard of. There’s just too little knowledge about soulmates in general so far, so no one knows why some never find theirs. Maybe you’re scared that yes, you will meet him or her, but only very late in life - so you’ll spend most of it searching for your other half. Furthermore, the thought of needing “another half” is very strange to you - as if you’re not already complete the way you are. Maybe you’re also scared of losing the one person you are meant to be with, after finally finding him or her. Whatever the reason... you simply try to turn off any thoughts of soulmates.

Period.

It usually works quite well for you.

Some of your friends find their soulmates during High School, which is actually quite rare.

Some others find theirs during their first college years.

Some stay single, like yourself.

You are happy for them - really, you are. You also like every single one of their soulmates - something easily accomplished: they make your friends happy, so you are happy.

As time moves on, it becomes more difficult to ignore the side-eyes or sympathetic looks they often throw your way. It’s as if they want to say “Oh look at that poor thing - still no sign of a soulmate”. You try to pay them no mind and simply have your fun with a few men and women during your early twenties, all of which are yet to be mated too.

Still, the voice in the back of your mind, the one you always try to ignore, seems to get louder with every passing year.

Your brother finds his soulmate when you’re in your first year of college. They marry not even two months later, even though the concept of marriage is long outdated by now - it’s become rather outdated since soulmates first began to emerge. But some still want a simple gold circle around their fingers to signify their undying love for one another, so who are you to judge?

You get to wear a pretty dress, dance with other prettily dressed people and drink delicious wine. All in all, it’s an amazing day.

Then, there comes a time when you finally think about the real use of a soulmate... It’s when your father loses his - your mother.

Cancer sucks.

For all the wonders of modern technology and medicine, there is nothing in this world that is able to save her.

It’s during her funeral that you finally seem to realize what having - and losing - a soulmate can really mean. Your father, once full of life and love, degenerates into a shadow of his former self. Gone is the bright man you have known your whole life.

It almost makes you wish you’ll never find your own soulmate.

But as so often, the universe has different plans for you.

It's graduation day and you’re sure you’re dreaming. It can’t be really over, can it? These past few years have gone by in the blink of an eye.

You get your diploma, shake hands with some very important people - or at least that's what the university deems them to be - and whoop with the other graduates, while caps fly all around you. At the end, you still feel like you’re dreaming.

After taking thousand of pictures with family and friends, you finally have a few minutes alone to yourself. Taking a last stroll around campus, you smile a bit ruefully. You’re happy to have completed your studies, of course you are - but to say good-bye to your college years isn’t as easy as you thought it would be. You will miss the late night talks with your roommate; or being wine-drunk in the middle of the week, just because you knew you could always skip the morning lecture if you really wanted to. No more college parties - even though you’re not sure if you’re really going to miss those -, no more lectures, no more... Freedom. Or youth.

You huff at that thought. You’re still young, even though you just graduated. You’re also still free - a job doesn’t automatically signify the end of freedom. No need to get into such a melancholic mood. This is just the beginning of a new chapter of your life. You smile at that thought, closing your eyes and enjoying the warm rays of sunshine hitting your face.

Half an hour later, you go back and join your family, taking a car to an expensive looking restaurant your father has picked for this - his words, not yours - “special occasion”. Your brother just welcomed his first daughter this spring, an adorable little thing with big curious eyes and you hold her all through dinner, loving the way the little munchkin feels in your arms. One day, you want one just like this.

After saying goodbye to your family, you meet up with some of the other graduates and get a bit (a lot) drunk, dancing through the night with them. You finally tumble into bed when the sun is already rising again - you have no idea how you’ve even made it home (Uber, probably).

When you wake up around noon the next day, head spinning and stomach feeling queasy, you see them.

On your left arm.

Coordinates.

You can’t help it - you scream (thank God your roommate’s not home).

And immediately run into the bathroom, grabbing some soap and trying to get rid of the black ink - which stays exactly where it is.

So it is no cruel joke drunk-you wanted to play on sober-you. Apparently, you have really met your soulmate last night. The coordinates printed on your inner left forearm just prove this.

Dazed, you stumble back into your tiny bedroom, flapping down on your comfy bed. Lost in thought, you touch the coordinates for the first time; tracing them over and over again with your fingers. The same ones your soulmate has inked on his or her arm now, too.

"Who are you?", you whisper to yourself, voice lost in the gloominess of the room, “Where are you?”

You don't know what to do.

The logical thing would be to go to the location the coordinates determine, you know that - of course you do.

But... you are scared.

You don't remember anything from last night; the last thing being the delicious tiramisu you had split with your dad. After that... nothing. Blank.

Did you talk to your soulmate? Did you just bump into another, not knowing the significance of the other person? Did your soulmate recognize you as his or her soulmate? And decided to... ignore it?

Just like that, you’re overthinking again.

So you do what you always do in times like these - you call your best friend.

"Please tell me this is important.", her groggy voice greets you from the other end of the line, "My hangover is killing me and every word I hear or speak hurts."

"It's important, I promise.", you answer, heart beating frantically against your rib cage.

You take a deep breath, collecting your thoughts.

"Tell me now or I’m hanging up."

"... I’ve gotten my coordinates."

It’s dead silent on the other end now.

"You- WHAT?!"

You flinch at the loud sound, head still pounding from all the wine you have consumed yesterday - you are seriously regretting that now.

"I uh- think... I met my soulmate."

"You're sure drunk-you didn't chug too much wine and went to a tattoo parlour to mess with sober-you or something like that?"

You snort. She really does know you too well. "Honestly? That was my first thought, too. But, uh, the ink isn't coming off. And it doesn't hurt, which a brand new tattoo obviously would. So... Yeah, I'm pretty sure about the soulmate-thing."

"Ohmygod. It's finally happening. We can go on double-dates now!"

"...That's seriously your first thought after finding out I just met my soulmate?"

"No. My first thought was: why the hell are you on your phone talking to me, when you should be with your freaking soulmate?!", she sounds almost offended.

"Uh, that is kind of my problem right now. I don't know who it is. I... was pretty drunk." You wince when you hear her disappointed sigh.

"Are you really that stupid? Just go to the location of the coordinates! Aren't you supposed to be the smart one in this friendship, Miss I-graduated-with-honors?", she scolds you, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You stay silent for a few seconds.

"Why don't you tell me what your real problem is, Y/N?", her voice is soft now. She really does know you the best.

"What if my soulmate met me yesterday and decided I'm not worth it?", you whisper into the speaker. When you hear your best friend huff in exasperation, you almost smile.

"First of all, that's impossible. I mean... that person is your soulmate for a reason, you know? Furthermore, I don't think anyone could ever decide you're not worth it. I know this will shock you, but you're actually a pretty okay-person! Even if you can be astoundingly stupid sometimes."

You laugh at that. "I love you, too. And... thank you. I’ll call you later."

"No, you won't. Because you'll finally be together with your hot, new soulmate and won't even think about me anymore. And that's okay, because I love you too. And now go and snatch your guy! Or girl. Whatever. I know you go both ways."

Before you can reply anything, she hangs up on you. You roll your eyes, smiling. That was just the pep-talk you needed.

Two hours later - you have definitely taken too long to pick an outfit for today -, you are freshly showered, dressed and are currently nervously gnawing on your lower lip, already drawing blood. When you typed in your coordinates, Google immediately came up with this location. As you look around the area, you begin to remember this bar very darkly - electric music, gloomy lights, a lot of plants. Very hipster - but you’re pretty sure the wine was good.

It’s still closed, but that’s no surprise to you as it's still quite early in the afternoon.

It begins raining and you curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella today, beginning to shiver slightly. It's definitely unusually cold for summer this year.

Shoving both hands into the pockets of your leather jacket, you squint at the cloudy sky. Great weather for meeting your soulmate. You sigh and lower your gaze again, observing how the raindrops slowly begin to form puddles on the street.

It's strangely calming.

Suddenly, the rain stops - or at least, it stops just above you. Surprised, you look up. Warm brown eyes gaze back at you, curiosity written over a ridiculously handsome face.

"Uh. Hi.", you say, a bit dumbfounded.

The man has a beautiful eye smile, tiny lines crinkle around the edges of them when he beams at you. He’s around your age - that or he looks younger than he is.

"Hi.", his voice sounds like honey and you feel your heartbeat speed up. "I'm just going to take a leap. Do you happen to have freshly inked coordinates on you?", he asks, tilting his head to one side.

Blond dyed hair falls into his eyes and you have to hold yourself back from brushing them out of his face. Hope blooms inside of you and you nod carefully. His smile brightens even more and you swear, your breathing stops, your heart stops - everything around you simply seems to stop. How can such a beautiful human being even exist?

You return his smile a bit shyly. "Uh, yes, I actually do."

“... on your right forearm?"

At that, you nearly choke. You feel as if you’re being drenched in cold water.

Because no, the coordinates are not on your right forearm - they’re on your left. Seriously, how unlucky can you get?

"Oh. Uh, no. They’re not."

Panic contorts the handsome man's face for a second, before he facepalms himself - hopefully not destroying his beautiful face in the process of doing so.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry - I mean on the left arm, not on the right! I'm so stupid, oh God, sorry! I- uh, I have that cursed right/left confusion, so..."

He turns slightly red at his confession. It might just be the most adorable expression you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

"Oh well, at least it's not a right/wrong confusion, so I'm okay with it.", you tease him, smiling brightly and pushing your left sleeve upwards, exposing your coordinates.

When he spots the tattoo, he actually beams, showing you the exact same one on his inner left forearm. You look from his tattoo to your own and back at his (stupidly handsome) face.

You jump, when you feel his fingers on your skin. Carefully, he starts to trace the black ink on your forearm, making you shiver. Warmth returns to your body, making you feel blissful and happy.

"I'm Jeonghan.", he says softly, eyes lifting and boring into yours.

The intensity of his gaze makes your knees weak.

"I'm Y/N."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N. Uh, sober, this time."

You grin. "Likewise."

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bechloeislegit · 5 years

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Skyping While Sleeping

Based on an idea from Tumblr User ladygaybeale.

Beca was hurrying through the airport with her bags to get out of JFK airport to find Fat Amy. She had on a ball cap and sunglasses and kept her head down, hoping no one would recognize her. She had only been at this solo singing career for a little over a year, but she rocketed up the music charts with her first album. And now that she was in the middle of a world tour, she had become more recognizable.

Beca made it to the main entrance, and her phone pinged with a text message. Before she could check her phone, she was grabbed from behind. She let out a small squeal as she was lifted off the ground and spun around.

“Short stuff!” Fat Amy yelled from behind her.

“Put me down, Amy!” Beca said causing Amy to laugh as she set her down.

“It’s good to see you,” Amy said. “I have an Uber waiting. Are you staying with Chloe?”

Amy grabbed one of Beca’s bags and started walking towards the doors to exit.

“NO!” Beca said, and Amy stopped. “I mean, I’m not going to Chloe’s. Not yet anyway. I was hoping I could crash with you just for tonight. I really want to talk to Chloe, but I haven’t had more than two hours of sleep since I woke up yesterday morning. I’m too jet-lagged to have a decent conversation with her. Besides, what’s one more day, right?”

“I can’t believe you finally grew a pair and are going to tell her how you feel,” Amy said with a big smile.

“Yeah, well,” Beca said. “I realized a few things while on tour, and I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to tell her.” Beca yawned and shook her head. “I’m going to tell her tomorrow.”

“That’s fair,” Amy said. “Let’s get you out of here and over to my place.”

~~oOo~~

Beca was trying to keep her eyes open as she and Amy rode in an Uber to Amy’s apartment.

“I have to say,” Amy said. “I was surprised to get a call asking me to pick you up at the airport. I thought you weren’t due back to the States until later in the week.”

“I had three shows booked at the O2 in London, and they had some kind of an electrical issue,” Beca said. “They wouldn’t be able to get it fixed for like a week, so my shows were canceled. Since I had five days until I have to be in Vegas for the first stop on the US portion of my tour, I decided I would visit Chloe. And you, of course.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Amy said. “I miss you. I know Red misses you even more.”

“It’s been hard,” Beca said. “I haven’t seen her since before the tour started. Not even on Skype. The last time I was able to talk to her was over a week ago, and that was just a phone call. I’m so tired because I can’t sleep without her next to me or hearing her voice before I go to sleep.”

“You’re in looo-oooove,” Amy sing-songed.

Beca blushed and smiled. “Maybe.”

“I’m happy for you, Beca,” Amy said as the Uber stopped. “We’re here.”

Beca got out of the Uber, and she and Amy grabbed her bags. Beca leaned her head against the wall of the elevator as they rode up to Amy’s Penthouse apartment. She followed Amy out of the elevator when they reached her floor.

“Here you go,” Amy said as she opened the door for Beca to enter.

“Wow, Ames,” Beca said with a yawn as she looked around. “This place is awesome. I’m sorry I missed your housewarming party.”

“That’s okay,” Amy said. “You had just started your tour.” Beca yawned and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Let’s get you to bed. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Beca said and followed Amy to her room.

Beca’s her phone pinged again notifying her of a text message. “Shit, I forgot I had a text earlier.”

Beca checked her phone and saw that both texts were from Chloe. The first was asking her if she was done with her concert and could talk tonight. The second was just question marks.

“Amy, I’m going to Skype with Chloe,” Beca said. “I don’t want her to know I’m here so could you keep it quiet for a little bit.”

“Sure, Beca,” Amy said. “I’ll be downstairs ordering something for dinner.”

“Thanks,” Beca said.

Amy dropped Beca’s bag by the bed and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Beca smiled. It was a little after seven in New York which means it’s after Midnight in London. That’s not too late so she felt good that Chloe wouldn’t be able to figure out where she was. Beca pulled up Chloe’s text and typed out a response.

BMitchell: Sorry. Had some interviews. Give me ten and I’ll Skype you.

Chloe’s response was almost immediate.

CBeale: YAY! <3

Beca hurriedly threw on her pajamas and got comfortable on the bed. She was sitting up against several pillows with her laptop on her lap. She took a deep breath and initiated a Skype call.

“Hey, Becs!” Chloe said with a big smile as she answered. “How’s London?”

“I don’t know,” Beca said. “I haven’t seen much of it yet.”

“You look tired,” Chloe said with a frown. “What time is it there?”

“I’m not sure,” Beca said with a yawn. “A little after Midnight, I think.”

“You should go to bed,” Chloe said. “We can talk some other time.”

“No,” Beca said. “I, um, I miss seeing your face. Plus, the sound of your voice relaxes me. Helps me sleep better.”

“Aww, Becs,” Chloe said. “You miss me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Beale,” Beca said and covered another yawn. “So, tell me how your day was.”

“Nope, we haven’t spoken in like ten days,” Chloe said. “So, I’m going to tell you how my last ten days were.”

Beca couldn’t help but smile at Chloe; she was just so darned cute.

“Let’s see,” Chloe continued. “Ten days ago? Oh, yeah, I got to assist on a surgery. A dog had swallowed a kid’s toy, and it was stuck in his stomach. We got it out, and he’s fine now. The next couple of days were kind of the normal stuff.”

Beca continued to smile as she listened to Chloe talk. She could feel herself getting sleepier but forced herself to stay awake.

Chloe continued talking and got excited. “Today, I helped deliver some puppies. It was a difficult birth, but we managed to-”

Chloe stopped and couldn’t help the wistful smile that came to her face when she realized that Beca had fallen asleep with her head leaning back against the headboard.

“Becs? Beca?” Chloe called Beca’s name softly so as not to wake her if she was really asleep. She stared at her for a moment, and Beca stirred. Chloe didn’t want to wake her, so she decided to keep talking softly to help Beca stay asleep.

“There were eight puppies,” Chloe continued quietly and stopped again. She watched Beca and thought that this was her chance. The chance to tell Beca everything she had been keeping bottled up inside her.

“I miss you so much, Becs,” Chloe said looking at her laptop screen. She reached out her hand and traced Beca’s face on the screen. “I swear I can still smell your perfume, even when I’m at work. Although, whenever I get a whiff of it, I get a pain in my chest because it’s all I have left of you right now. I hug your pillow at night, remembering how you used to hold me while we snuggled together after I had a crappy day at work. I miss everything about you.”

Chloe wiped at a tear that fell down her cheek. “This may be the only time I’ll have the courage to tell you this, and I don’t want to regret not taking the chance. My biggest regret-”

Chloe stopped as she felt tears stinging her eyes. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat and put her head in her hands. She used her hands to cover her eyes as the tears started to fall. “God, I can’t even look at you through the laptop screen to say this to you.” She sniffled and, looking down at the keyboard, said, “My biggest regret is not being brave enough to tell you that I love you. That I’m in love with you.”

Chloe wiped her eyes. She looked at the screen, and all the air left her body. Staring back at her, her eyes wide and clearly in shock at having heard what Chloe said, was Beca. They stared at each other in awkward silence for what felt like a lifetime but was only a few seconds.

Chloe let out a sob and slammed the top of her laptop closed and tossed her laptop away from her.

“Oh, God, what did I just do?”

~~oOo~~

Beca’s mouth opened and closed before snapping shut as Chloe ended the Skype call. She sat up straight and looked at the blank screen. “Chloe?”

Beca sat there in shock as several thoughts raced through her mind. “Did Chloe just say she was in love with me? Was I dreaming? Did she really say it?”

Beca tried to initiate a new Skype call but got no answer. She jumped up and started pulling on clothes as she tried to call Chloe. Again, no answer.

“Amy!” Beca shouted as she ran downstairs, still half-dressed. “Amy! Where are you?”

“What’s wrong?” Amy asked as Beca came running into the kitchen.

“I need to get to Chloe’s,” Beca said as she dropped her shoes on the floor and buttoned her shirt and then her jeans. “I need to go now.”

“Okay, okay,” Amy said. “What happened?”

“Answer, dammit!” Beca yelled into the phone. She hopped on one foot as she put on her shoe, and did the same with the other shoe.

“Beca, you’re kind of scaring me,” Amy said as she grabbed Beca by the shoulders to get her to stand still. “Tell me what happened.”

Beca swallowed and said, “Chloe just told me she was in love with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Beca said with a smile forming on her face. “She thought I had fallen asleep and she said it.”

“And you said it back, right?”

“Um, no,” Beca said and grimaced. “I kind of froze. I thought I was dreaming and then she ended the call without saying anything else. That’s why I need to go over there right now. So, I can say it back.”

“Let’s go,” Amy said and grabbed Beca by the hand.

Amy led/dragged Beca to the curb and bumped some guy who was getting into a cab out of the way and shoved Beca in.

“Hey!” the guy yelled. “That’s my cab.”

“Sorry, but this is an emergency,” Amy shouted back at him as she gave the driver Chloe’s address and slammed the door. “Go get her, short stuff!”

Beca smiled as she sat back in the cab. “Could you hurry, please?”

“You got it,” the driver said and started weaving in and out of traffic.

~~oOo~~

It was barely ten minutes later when the cab braked to a stop in front of Chloe’s building. Beca threw way too much money at the cabbie and told him to keep the change.

Beca ran to the door of the building and took the stairs two at a time. When she reached Chloe’s door, she was breathing a little heavy and took a couple of deep breaths, and let out the last one in a rush. She raised her arm and calmly knocked on the door.

She thought she heard voices and her heart stopped for a moment when she heard a sniffle and a quiet, “just a minute.” She took another deep breath and let it out.

As soon as the door opened, Beca asked, “Did you mean it?”

“Be-Beca? How are you? What are you?”

“Did. You. Mean. It?”

Chloe gave Beca a teary-eyed smile and said, “Every word.”

Beca rushed forward and smashed her lips against Chloe’s, as she grabbed Chloe around the waist. Chloe let out a small gasp that got lost in the kiss. Beca pushed Chloe further into the apartment and kicked the door shut with her foot. The two stood kissing in the middle of the apartment until breathing became an issue.

“Ahem!” Beca heard someone clear their throat and looked around.

“Hello!”

“Oh, my gosh,” Chloe said and looked over at her bed.

Beca looked over as well to see Aubrey’s face on Chloe’s laptop screen.

“This had better mean you feel the same way,” Aubrey said looking at Beca.

Beca swallowed and looked at the smile on Chloe’s face and said, “Yes, I’m in love with her, too.”

Chloe squealed and kissed Beca again. They were both lost in each other and time seemed to stop for them.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Chlo,” Aubrey said. Seeing the two still kissing, she added, “On second thought, you call me later when you come up for air.”

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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cabaretcal · 5 years

Text

the 5 stages of grief / a.i.

Warnings: symptoms of depression, really sad stuff, mourning

Word count: 2.8k

Background info: the 5 stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

A/N: have tissues ready if you’re sensitive to these topics. If you think you may be too sensitive about mourning and depressing themes, I understand if you don’t want to read. Do what’s best for you! If you ever need to talk, don’t hesitate to message me!

—

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon; Ashton was waiting for you to come home from work. As he was putting dishes in the dishwasher, his phone rang. He quickly washed his hands and answered the phone.

“Hello, who is this?”

“May I speak to Ashton Irwin?”

“This is him.”

“You need to come to the hospital immediately. Y/n y/l/n was just in an accident. You were her most recent person on her call log, so we thought you were the best person to contact.”

His heart dropped. He hung up and quickly put his shoes on and left in his car. He drove way past the speed limit, but he wasn’t worried about that right now. He parked his car and ran to the information desk in the emergency room. He quickly asked where she would be and gave his own name. A doctor came out, standing in front of him.

“You must be Ashton. Ms y/l/n was in a serious car accident. Drunk driver hit her while going way over the speed limit. The car tumbled down a hill… she’s on life support.”

He felt his heart rate quicken. This could not be happening.

Ashton grew angry, “She could die because of some drunk driver not having the sense to not drive under the influence!? Where the hell is this guy? Is he on life support too?”

“I’m not allowed to give information on other patients if you’re not their family member Mr Irwin. Just hang tight.”

Ashton was hysterical. He called your mother, asking if she heard. She was already on her way from a state over. He wished she could come sooner. She always had the right thing to say. Ashton was scared out of his mind. He had no one to panic to. He texted Calum, pleading for him to come to the hospital. Calum complied with no argument, arriving a half hour later. Calum had seen Ashton cry, but this time it was the worst he has ever seen. He wasn’t sure how to make Ashton worry less. It was near impossible.

—

6 hours passed and Ashton had run out of tears to cry. Your parents finally made it to the hospital.

The same doctor came back, “can you come back with me, please?”

Ashton and your parents followed the doctor to a room with chairs and a desk. There were many pamphlets in piles.

Dealing With Grief

Are You Depressed?

When To Get Help

Losing a Loved One

Ashton was scared. He just knew that the worst thing possible happened.

“Car accidents are very common, you see. A lot of times, people live. But sometimes you know not everyone gets lucky. Road traffic crashes rank as the 9th leading cause of death and account for 2.2% of all deaths globally…”

Ashton began to cry. He knew what he was going to say. You were gone. Forever.

Ashton fought through his tears, “Can’t you just try cpr again o-or maybe put her on life support again maybe she just needs a little longer you know? There has to be a way-“

“We did all that we could, young man.”

Your mother was hysterical. Your father felt numb. Ashton couldn’t bear to be in the room.

“There will be a court hearing for the man responsible for causing the accident in a week… he will be charged with vehicular homicide. This is a felony that, upon conviction, will result in a sentence of between 3 and 15 years of imprisonment.”

Ashton couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and left, slamming the door to the office.

—

The funeral followed less than a week later. All of the boys came to support him. It was hard to be here. Ashton had never felt so much pain.

“We gather here today to celebrate the life of y/n y/m/n y/l/n…”

Ashton cried all through this part. He couldn’t handle seeing your picture. He would never see you smile like that again. Once it was time for speeches, he stood up and walked to the podium.

“Y/n was perfect. Perfect for me. She always brought out the best in me. I remember the day we met like it was yesterday. I came to the coffee shop she worked at and ordered an iced americano. She told me I had bad taste in coffee. She’s not wrong. And I just laughed, saying ‘Well I have great taste in girls, so how about I get your number?’ It was cheesy, but I got her number so it was good enough for me. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. I took her on a picnic and I just knew. She was the one. 3 dates later, I asked her to be my girlfriend. She said yes for some reason, but thank god she did. I planned on proposing on our 3 year anniversary next month. I have the ring and everything. I’ll always be in love with her. I’ll never meet anyone better than her. I’m a lucky man.”

—

It’s been a week since the funeral. Every single day at 6:30 pm he would wait for you to come home, hoping one day that maybe it’d turn out that he was just dreaming and you never left. He was in a constant state of denial.

The day after the funeral he woke up in bed, turning on his side to admire you, but all that was there was an empty side of the bed. The blanket usually ended up all on your side. You were known to hog the blanket. It looked like that wouldn’t be a problem anymore. He got up and made the bed, going downstairs afterwards. He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat at the kitchen table. You two always had breakfast together. He couldn’t bear to eat without you, it was tradition. He would feel guilty. He picked his bowl up and poured the cereal into the garbage disposal, flipping the switch. Ashton’s phone dinged, Calum had texted him.

Did you want to go out for breakfast today with the guys?

Maybe it’d be good for him to get out of the house. He said yes and went back to the room to get dressed. Calum offered to drive, so Ashton waited for him to arrive.

—

“I’ll just have a coffee, black.”

The waitress walked away and the boys continued conversation. It was just normal banter, like usual. Nothing was out of character.

Ashton looked at the menu intensely, trying to decide what to get.

“What are you getting, mate?” Luke looked up from his menu at Ashton, one eyebrow raised.

“I might get pancakes, but I’m not 100% sure.”

“I think I’m getting French toast.” Ashton’s heart dropped. You would always order french toast. But he kept it all inside, clearing his throat.

“That’s a good choice.”

The coffees arrived and Ashton began to drink his. Everyone was talking normally. He desperately wanted to join conversation, but it was hard. He just kept to himself until someone spoke specifically to him.

“So Ash, we were thinking about having dinner at Cal’s place tonight. Ya know, like we used to. You down?” Michael looked at Ashton with hope, wanting to get Ashton out of the house.

“Yeah of course, sounds good.” Ashton smiled weakly, the boys cheering ‘we’re trashing Cal’s place yeah!’. He slightly smiled, he was lucky to have the guys in his life.

“No one is trashing my house!”

—

Everyone went straight to Calum’s house straight after breakfast. Everyone was just messing around as the night came, and everyone was just enjoying one another's company. Ashton sat on the couch, twiddling his fingers anxiously and laughing when everyone else would laugh so he would seem less off.

“Hey Ash, come help me set the table!” Luke called out from the kitchen.

Ashton made his way to the kitchen, opening the cabinet and taking out the plates. Subconsciously, he got out five plates and five forks. He handed two sets to Luke and they both set the table.

“I think you miscounted, mate.” Luke smiled, taking one plate and set of silverware off of this table.

“No no it’s right it’s you, me, Mike, Cal and… oh wait um yeah I guess there’s only four. Sorry.”

Luke realized why Ashton got out enough stuff for 5 people. You would join the boys once in a while for dinner with all of them.

“It’s alright, Ash.” Luke smiled weakly, trying to hide his worry.

The boys filed into the dining room, sitting at the table while chatting loudly.

Ashton sat in the last empty spot, putting food on his plate as everyone else did the same.

The boys chatted normally, talking about music and shows that they were watching on the television. Everything was normal. Ashton didn’t get how they could act like everything was normal.

“How can you guys just act like everything’s okay?” Ashton’s voice was calm, but inside he was breaking.

“We just want to get you out of the house Ash we’re worried about you…” Michael looked at Ash with sincerity, “we just want you to be okay.” He had never seen his friend this way; he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Maybe if she wasn’t fucking dead I would be okay! Maybe if that guy wasn’t an idiot and drove drunk she could be here with us! Why do good people get the bad end of the stick? It should’ve been me!”

Calum tried keeping his composure, “Ashton don’t say that, it shouldn’t be either of you. I know you’re hurting-“

“You don’t know shit! You don’t know how I feel! You’ll never know how I feel!”

“Ashton bud just calm down-“

“I’m calling a fucking Uber I can’t do this I-I’m not okay I can’t pretend I’m okay.” Ashton got up from the table, walking out the front door.

—

Weeks had passed since he stormed out of Calum’s house at dinner. As he drank his third glass of bourbon, Ashton couldn’t stop thinking about all possible outcomes.

“It should’ve been me” he thought.

What if he would’ve taken you to work and picked you up that day? What if he could’ve kept you in bed all day so you’d call in? What if he would’ve asked you to stop at the store right by your work before coming home?

Ashton didn’t understand why it had to happen to you. He was confused and hurt. He didn’t know what the meaning of life was anymore.

He decided to call Cal, and he answered after a few rings.

“How are you doing, Ash?”

“I don’t know. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I don’t know what’s wrong what should I do? What’s wrong with me?”

“Ashton are you drinking?”

Ashton didn’t say anything.

“Ashton. I’m coming over.”

Then the line went dead.

—

“I don’t know, Cal. My drinking problem came back a-and I can’t ever sleep more than 2 hours. What’s wrong with me?”

“Maybe we should take you to a therapist?”

“I’m embarrassed, Cal! I can’t talk to a random person about how I feel.”

Cal sighed in frustration, “Fine, we won’t get you a therapist. But you have to let me stay with you. I don’t want you doing anything stupid.”

“Okay, fine.”

“First order of business: no alcohol in the house.” Cal went to the alcohol cabinet, throwing it all in the trash. He grabbed the drink from Ash’s hand and poured the rest in the sink.

“Let’s get to bed.”

—

11 AM came around and Ashton still hadn’t got out of bed. Cal got up from the couch and wandered up to Ashton’s room. Ashton was wrapped in a blanket, looking at his phone.

“Ash let’s get outta bed now, right bud?”

Ashton just mumbled a quiet no in response, burying his head in the pillow. Ashton couldn’t bring himself to leave the bed. In bed, nothing could go wrong. He would be away from the world and all the problems that come with it.

“Alright Ash you leave me no choice,” Cal sighed and tore the blanket from Ashton’s hands, pulling him up by his arms, “alright let’s get you dressed and start the day.”

“I really don’t want to…”

“You’ll feel a lot better if you do, I promise.”

Ashton sighed, walking to the closet and picking out a t shirt and joggers. He put them on, looking in the mirror. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. An excessive amount of weight had been lost due to loss of appetite. He was absolutely wrecked inside and out.

“There we go look at you! Ready for the day.”

“Yup, all ready.” Ashton smiled weakly. It was hard to see himself like that. He was so broken. He missed the old him, and how happy he used to always be.

“Okay let’s eat then.”

“I’m not hung…” Ashton stopped himself. He knew he had to eat. He didn’t eat yesterday at all, “Yeah let’s eat, what’s on the menu?”

“I was lazy today so I ordered dominos. Got your favorite pizza too because I’m the best. Thank me later.” Calum gave a cocky grin and Ashton laughed. Calum missed the old Ashton, and he was finally shining through.

Although, some days were worse than others.

Sometimes, Ashton absolutely could not get out of bed. He was losing weight rapidly, and Calum caught him crying constantly. Everything was crashing down faster and faster-what could Calum even do? He wasn’t a therapist nor a doctor, just a worried friend. As Calum sat in Ashton’s room while Ash buried his face in the pillow, Ashton finally spoke.

“I think I should see a therapist.”

“I think it’s the best thing for you, Ashton. I support you all the way.

—

The therapy room was cold. The walls were white and had some landscape paintings on them. There was a salt lamp giving off a faint orange glow in the corner, and the room was quiet.

“Ashton, you know it’s okay to not be okay, right? You know it’s okay to ask for help?”

“I was just afraid to burden people.” Ashton sat in the chair in the therapist's office, messing with a rubix cube subconsciously.

“Grief is a hard thing to go through without professional help, or help in general. You’re lucky you have a friend who stays with you and checks on you. He’s extremely worried about you. Tell me about y/n, what was she like?”

Ashton just smiled at the thought of you, “She was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. She had the prettiest eyes, and the voice of an angel. She was patient. She was kind. She helped me out of my alcoholism. I didn’t deserve it, but god I’m glad I got it. I don’t know if I’ll love again. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was gonna marry her… she was like the embodiment of sunshine. I don’t know how to live life without her. It’s like living in a world without sun. What’s a world without light? She was my light and now I just feel lost.”

The therapist looked Ashton in the eyes, “She may not be here physically, but I know she feels the same about you. And I understand that it feels like you’re just walking alone in the dark, but it won’t be like that anymore once you learn how to live without her presence.”

“I miss her… but I know she wouldn’t want me to go on with my life feeling like this. She’s seen me at my worst before already. It killed her… maybe I need to work on being okay. I just don’t think I can stop loving her.”

“It’s okay to still love her, Ashton, just don’t stop your whole life. You have so much ahead of you.”

—

Ashton went to therapy 2 times a week for 2 months. In those 2 months, he learned so much about himself.

Ashton thought about you everyday. He put a picture of the both of you on his nightstand. He loved you so much. But he didn’t let missing you stop his whole life. He finally got out of the house with his friends more often. He started to cherish some moments alone by himself. Calum still checked on him everyday. Of course he had his days, but he was primarily getting better. He knew you’d be so proud of him, and that kept him going. He was so in love. He would never forget the color of your eyes or the sound of your voice. He would celebrate you for many years to come and learn that it’s okay to not be okay.

——

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