#5sosfics

Warning: angst, fluff, crying,

Summary: Ashton tries to fix what he did.

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Part1

A few hours passed and Ashton returned to the room around 11 and it was freezing out side. He opened the door to find that the Y/n hadn't taken the opportunity to take the bed. She however left a note for him on the bed.

Ash, you take the bed. I know that you get back pain sometimes because of how hard you play the drums on stage. I called rooms service for some extra pillows and blankets so I can cozy up in the bathtub. -(first initial)

Ash felt a prang in his chest. Even after what he had said to her, she still was being so kind. Placing the letter on the bedside table, Ash made his way to the bathroom.

As quietly as possible, the boy turned the handle and opened the door. There she was curled up in a makeshift bed that didn't seem as though it was very warm, looking so peaceful with her light snores filling the bathroom.

Ashton's heart swelled and hurt at the same time. How could he have been so... horrible to someone so sweet? Ashton sighed, feeling awful. He couldn't let her sleep there, one it was far to cold and more importantly she deserved better than that.

He exited the bathroom and pulled open the covers of the bed, before coming back to Y/n. Moving the blankets away, as gently as he could, Ashton lifted Y/n's sleeping frame into his arms taking her to the bed.

Pulling the covers over her, Ashton paused regretting how he had chosen to block it all out, thinking of everything they could've and might've had together. He believed that anything that there could've been was now gone. During Ash's brief pause, Y/n stirred awake confused at her change in surroundings.

"Ashton what are you doing?" Y/n mumbled, half asleep.

"I'm not letting you sleep in the tub, okay." Ashton told her.

Y/n let her eyes adjust to the dark room. "Ashton you won't be able to play very well with a sore back." Y/n got up and began to go back to the bathroom. "I really dont mi-"

Before she could continue opening the bathroom door, Ashton put his hand over hers on the doorknob and pulled it shut, turning Y/n in the process. It all happened so fast, Ashton didn't even think about what he was doing.

Now all he can think about is how close he was to her. Y/n's back was against the door, her hand held on to the doorknob, Ashton's hand overlapping hers, the boy towering over her only a few inches away.

Hints of frustration twinkled in Ashton's expression, as he tried to calm himself so to not lash out and fuck up again. "I'm not letting you sleep in the bathtub. You're going to sleep in the bed." He spoke softly as if anything louder was illegal, his eyes connecting with Y/n's

"O-okay." Y/n nodded, unable to think of any other response. Neither of them moved.

"I'm sorry," Ashton confessed. "For being a dick and say horrible things to you...and for making you cry." He looked to the floor, removing Y/n's hand from the doorknob and holding it lightly in his.

"You didn't ma-"

"I saw you eyes before I left, all watery and sad." Ashton felt ashamed to have made someone so sweet cry. "I'm sorry. I'm a dick for having ever treated you like that. I know that's not enough but I-"

"I forgive you, Ashton." she rested her free hand on his cheek, his eyes glossing over.

"But, Why? I don't-"

"People make mistakes, Ash. I can see that there's more to the way you acted than just being mean for the sake of it, because if you truly hated me we wouldn't still be standing this close and you wouldn't still be holding my hand." Y/n spoke sweetly.

Ash nodded. "So what does this mean for you and I." He asked uncertainty heavy in his voice.

"It means you and I, can try being an Us."

Ashton let out a sigh of relief, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly as he rested his forehead on hers.

"In that case." He whispered lovingly "y/n"

"Ashton?"

"May I have the honour of cuddling with you?" He asked.

"Of course. You can cuddle me, and never let go."

They both smiled at each other, Ashton leaving a kiss on Y/n's forehead before picking her up again and heading to bed, earning a few giggles.

Michael Clifford estava na festa de um de seus amigos da escola, que era conhecido por dar as melhores festas da cidade. Todos estavam bebendo, dançando e rindo como se nunca mais fossem fazer isso. A festa era um jeito que os estudantes haviam encontrado para comemorar mais um final do ano escolar e para Michael, qualquer motivo para uma festa era bom o bastante.

Ele estava encostado em uma das paredes da sala, com um copo de cerveja na mão. O cabelo bagunçado dava a impressão de que ele acabara de sair da cama e fazia sucesso com muitas garotas. Falando em garotas, Michael não pode deixar de reparar em um pedaço do paraíso que tinha acabado de entrar na casa. Seus cabelos eram castanhos e estavam soltos, batendo nas costas da garota. Pedaço de paraíso era pouco para descrever ela, Michael pensou enquanto fazia uma avaliação rápida.

Ela olhava para o lugar, procurando as pessoas e se localizando. Sua expressão era de divertimento, como se fizesse tempo que não ia em festas daquele tipo. Uma música dançante começou a tocar e a garota foi para o meio da sala, onde algumas pessoas estavam dançando e se juntou a elas na dança. Michael estava hipnotizado por ela, acompanhando cada movimento daquele corpo que parecia saber bem o que fazer para deixar o garoto em um estado precário.

Ele não foi o único a reparar na garota nova, já que um garoto que ele não fazia questão de lembrar o nome se aproximou dela. Com um sorriso triunfante, de quem já tinha ela no papo, ele falou:

“Hey! Pode me chamar de James... e eu, como posso te chamar?” Ele estava quase grudado na garota, tentando impor toda aquela pose de macho alfa que garotos adolescentes adoram manter.

“Problema.” Ela passou reto por ele, com um sorriso nos lábios vermelhos.

Michael tentou disfarçar a risada que queria escapar e acabou por dar um sorriso de canto para a garota, que o olhou com o olhar de quem o estava avaliando. Quando ela foi na direção da mesa das bebidas, Michael aproveitou a oportunidade para dar aquela olhada básica. Jeans pretos com alguns rasgos, um par de all star preto e pelo que parecia, uma camiseta de banda. Ele suspirou, pensando que pedaço do paraíso realmente não fazia jus à visão que estava tendo.

Ele levou seu copo de cerveja aos lábios, contendo um suspiro de tristeza. A garota era boa demais para a maioria dos garotos daquele lugar, principalmente para ele. Se ele fosse comparar o nível entre os dois, ele era um 6 e ela era um 10. Ele riu com o pensamento, dizendo para si mesmo que isso até poderia dar uma boa música.

“Gostei da sua camiseta.” Surpreso, Michael notou que a garota estava do seu lado, também encostada na parede. Os olhos dela, que eram de um cinza tempestuoso, estavam olhando a camiseta dele, também uma camiseta de banda. “Nem todo mundo gosta do Cobain.”

“Não gostam por que são idiotas, o cara é um gênio.” Ele disse sorrindo, tentando não parecer um completo idiota.

“Concordo.” Ela encarava o copo que estava em suas mãos, perdida em pensamentos.

“Qual o seu nome?” Ele a olhou de canto, receoso de que ela desse a mesma resposta que tinha dado para James.

“Charlie.” Ela disse com um sorriso. “E o seu?”

“Michael.” Os dois se encaravam como se, de alguma forma, já se conhecessem.

O resto da noite foi um borrão na memória de Michael, com apenas algumas partes que realmente faziam sentido. Os dois dançaram, beberam e até se beijaram. Se o garoto fosse capaz de olhar para qualquer coisa sem ser ela, perceberia o olhar espantado que os garotos tinham e a expressão de inveja que algumas garotas demonstravam. Não que ele fosse popular, mas corria um boato por aí de que Michael Clifford não brincava em serviço e que era impecável na hora H. Se é que vocês me entendem.

Depois de algum tempo, os dois estavam no jardim da casa vizinha, que Michael descobriu ser o lugar em que Charlie morava. Entre beijos, os dois entraram na casa vazia e a garota o levou até seu quarto, tendo um pouco de dificuldade para subir as escadas enquanto se ocupava em marcar o pescoço do garoto. Ao passarem pela porta do cômodo, Michael reparou que as paredes brancas estavam cobertas de letras de músicas. Uma em especial chamou a atenção dele. Charlie, ao notar que o garoto reparara na frase, o empurrou para a cama.

“Amo essa música.” Ela engatinhou sobre a cama queen size, até chegar aonde o garoto estava. Com ela por cima dele, Michael finalmente reconheceu de que banda a camiseta dela era. Bon Jovi.

Michael acordou com uma dor de cabeça desgraçada, sentindo um peso estranho em seu braço direito. A única coisa em que ele conseguiu pensar, ao abrir os olhos e encontrar Charlie dormindo em seus braços, era em como eles tinham acabado ali. Depois de alguns minutos, momentos da noite passada finalmente começaram a fazer sentido para seu cérebro de ressaca. Um sorriso se formou nos lábios do garoto ao mesmo tempo em que a garota começava a dar os primeiros sinais de quem estava acordando.

“Mikey, você é muito sortudo!” Calum levou uma das mãos ao ombro de Michael.

“Cara, você tem que sequestrar ela, sei lá. Daqui a pouco ela descobre seu lado esquisito de cara de banda e te larga.” Luke falava com a boca cheia, sem reparar no olhar de reprovação com que seu amigo estava o olhando.

Era segunda feira e o garoto estava de volta à escola, junto com seus inseparáveis colegas de banda. Ele, Calum Hood e Luke Hemmings estavam no período de almoço e Ashton Irwin, o baterista do grupo, estava sabe-se lá aonde, provavelmente beijando alguma garota.

Charlie, por incrível que fosse, era nova naquela escola e tinha dito a Michael que iria falar com a secretária no período livre que eles tinham. O garoto aproveitara o tempo a sós com os amigos para contar o que tinha acontecido no final de semana, em como a garota era sensacional e em como ele acabara na cama dela no dia seguinte. Nem ele acreditava no que estava falando, era incrível demais para ser verdade.

Os boatos corriam soltos pelo colégio e logo todos sabiam que a garota tinha recebido um “boas-vindas” particular de Michael. Não que ela se importasse se ficassem sabendo, já que não conhecia a maioria daquelas pessoas.

“Me encontre no ginásio quando você acabar de almoçar, por favor. X :)” Michael leu a mensagem que acabara de receber, com uma sensação estranha.

O garoto encarou os amigos, preocupado com o motivo para o encontro a sós. Parte de seu cérebro dizia que era só um jeito da garoa aproveitar ele particularmente, mas a outra parte, que era bem maior, dizia que ela finalmente caíra em si e daria o fora nele. Até por que ele não devia ter sido o único que ouvira os comentários sobre os dois. Os garotos achavam que ela era louca por ter escolhido ele, já que ela era, nas palavras deles, muita areia para o caminhãozinho de Michael e as garotas soltavam comentários nada agradáveis sobre o motivo dela ter o escolhido.

              Michael olhava para as arquibancadas, engolindo em seco. Charlie realmente era muito para ele, mas a garota não parecia ligar para isso. Ou será que ela ligava?

              “Um beijo por seus pensamentos.” A garota sorria para ele, sem perceber que o garoto estava com um semblante preocupado.

              “É só que... não sei como falar isso, mas acho que concordo com o que estão falando. Você é muito pra mim, Charlie. Tenho medo de que você se canse de mim e me largue.”

              Ela não disse nada, deixando o garoto mais nervoso do que já estava. Quando Michael fechou os olhos, sentiu as mãos da garota no seu rosto, o puxando para um beijo.

“Hello?” I said, turning my back towards the prying eyes.

“Hello Rose, this is Michelle from Storm Model Management. Just to let you know we have a job available for you. Would it be possible to call into the office in the next few hours?” said the friendly female voice.

I had only recently started modelling, after being pushed by my best friend Emma to do so. It was never really of an interest to me, but I was beginning to enjoy some of the photo shoots I had done, especially when I was given some of the clothes to keep. I just wasn’t telling Emma that I was enjoying it, otherwise I would get the told you so remark.

“Um yeah, sure,” I replied, I had never been called to come into the office before, only emails telling me about castings and the odd call giving me details of a photo shoot I had been booked for. “I’ll be there in the next hour.”

“Great. See you then. Bye,” She hung before I even got to reply.

I quickly got changed into my black skinny jeans, white t-shirt and black ankle boots. I ran a comb through my hair before deciding to let it dry naturally. I always liked when I wore my hair natural. It dried to a loose curl and mousy brown hair fell to above by bust. I applied some bb cream, mascara, eyeliner and lipstick before spraying on some Marc Jacobs, Daisy, that my boyfriend Isaac had given me last week for our one year anniversary.

The Modelling Agency was only a quick twenty minutes walk from the gym so I decided to go to my favourite coffee shop and get my usual Americano and caramel slice to pass some time. I read through my emails, nothing important, only spam and sales on Boohoo and Missguided. I sent Isaac a quick text just to let him know that I wouldn’t be home for a while and that I would text him to come over when I was back. I got a quick response with the usual “I love you x” at the end.

I arrived at the large stone building with the plaque for Storm Model Management on the outside. I had only been here once when Emma had forced me to bring in my headshots. I made my way in and up to the reception.

“Hi my name is Rose Hunter.” I said to the man behind the desk, who looked up from his paper work to acknowledge me. “I got a call earlier from Michelle telling me she had a job and that I should call into today.”

“Take the lift to the third floor and take a sit there, Michelle should be out to you then in a few minutes,” He said a returned to his paper work.

“Thanks,” I said before I made my way to the lift. I waited for it to arrive, a few people getting out when I did. I hit the third floor button. I always hated lifts. The lift dropped a bit, causing my stomach to rise before the doors opened to the pristine waiting room before me. I took a sit on one of the white leather couches and picked up a magazine to look at as I waited for Michelle.

The sound of door opening caught my attention as I lifted my head from the magazine, after discovering all the new trends for the autumn/winter season. A rather short woman was making her way over to me, her heels clicking on the marble tiles. I stood up as she extended her arm to shake my hand.

“Rose. Excellent you could make her so soon, the clients for your job are on a rather tight schedule,” she said as she quickly shook her hand and then turned to walk back to her office. “Follow me please, their waiting in here for you, to discuss the job offer and contract.”

I followed through the wooden doors to her office. There were pictures of different models obviously the ones she had scouted or represented that had made a name for themselves in the industry. I recognised Cara Delevingne straight away. Maybe one day I might be up there too. Across from where Michelle sat down two men sat. I took the empty seat beside the older of the two men.

“Rose, this is Paul” said Michelle indicating to the older of the men. “And his associate Richard, they are just going to give you the details about the job and then hopefully you will accept the offer and sign the contract.”

Both men turned to face me and each extended their arm to shake my hand before the Paul began to speak.

“We’re here from Modest Management and we represent the band 5 Seconds of Summer.” Paul explained. I had heard of the band before but wasn’t a fan. I would listen to their music when it came onto the radio and had She Looks So Perfect on my phone but that was as far as it went. “To gain more publicity and media coverage for the band before the tickets for their tour go on sale we wanted to cause a bit of a stir up in the so called 5sos fandom and hopefully attract new fans.  The idea has been proposed to us by our boss to hire a fake girlfriend for one of the boys and we’ve decided upon Ashton, the drummer as the boy to pose with a fake girlfriend, which hopefully will be you if you agree for a year to year and half.”

“I have a boyfriend,” was the only response I could muster up. Paul looked at me before saying.

“That’s okay. You’ll just have to keep your personal life private and away from the attention of the fans. You can only tell three people of this contract who you can trust and I suspect one of them will be your boyfriend, obviously explain the situation to him.”

Paul reached into his briefcase and pulled over a couple of sheets of paper for me to sign.

“Now about the contract, it will last up to a year and half or at least a year depending when we decide to terminate the contract. You will be expected to be pictured with Ashton quite regularly and post photos with him on instagram and twitter which you will be expected to have. There will obviously be perks to this job. You will be flown out to concerts at our expense and you will stay in the same hotel as the boys, again at our expense. You will have to attend the concerts, with the boys’ friends, family and Calum’s girlfriend. You will also be paid one thousand pounds each month for the whole time of the contract, which can be spent as you wish. So what do you say?”

I quickly ran everything through my head. One thousand pounds each month, that would cover my living expenses each month for university with at least three hundred pounds left over to spend or save each month. I would be able to afford the flight to go to Canada with Isaac in December for Christmas if I saved the three hundred for the next six months, I would also have the thousand pounds for this month and then July through to September before I had to start paying rent in October for University. I would definitely be able to go.

“I agree,” I said as I reached for the pen as Richard showed me where to sign on each of the pages.

“Perfect,” said Paul.

“Oh, I just have one question,” I said before I signed anything. “Why me?”

“Why you?” Paul replied. “Well, we couldn’t ask a fan because they wouldn’t be able to act professional when they are constantly surrounded by four boys they idolised. And if it was someone famous the fans are much more likely to suspect it’s a fake relationship, much like they did with Harry Styles and Taylor Swift. Whereas with you, you’re a soon to be University student here in London, am I correct?”

I nodded before he continued. “It will also look good to have Ashton visiting you at University and maybe attend a few of your University events with you. A low key model, so you are somewhat used to having to pose for the cameras and what I have seen you’re pretty good. This may launch your modelling career for you if that’s what you want. You are also used to taking directions from photographers and we will expect the same. Plus you’re not bad on the eyes. That’s why we chose you.”

I turned my attention back to contract and signed each of the dotted lines. I handed the contract back to Paul and took a deep breath.

“Perfect,” said Paul, placing the contract in his bag. “Now that that’s done let me introduce you to Ashton and the rest of the boys. Oh yes, before I forget only you, the three people you are allowed to tell, the boys management and the boys themselves know of this deal.”

Paul turned his attention to Michelle. “Thank you very much Michelle, maybe we may do business sometime again in the future.”

Paul and Richard both stood shaking Michelle’s hand and indicating that I follow them out of the office, down the hall way to a door that said meeting room. Richard opened the door where four boys sat on the chairs two of them with their feet resting on the table. They both quickly removed their feet when the door opened and all four stood.

“Ashton,” Paul said as the shortest of the boys made his way over, even though he had to be at least six foot. “This is Rose, she will be posing as your girlfriend for the next year or so as the discussed.”