wild about Calum

It wasn't exactly a secret that your music had built you a reputation, in fact you had prided yourself off of it.

Every interview eventually circled back to the same question.

"Do you think your standards are too high?"

You'd always laugh.

"No. I think the wrong people made me believe the bare minimum was asking for too much."

The internet had turned that answer into your entire personality. Your last album had become an anthem for people who were tired of settling.

Songs about wanting someone who actually listened.

Who remembered little things. Who showed up when they said they would. Who didn't make love feel like a guessing game.

People constantly compared your songwriting to diary entries… hopeful despite the heartbreak.

The comments under every relationship rumor were always the same.

-

No man is surviving her standards.

He's got six months.

She's gonna write album of the year.

-

Even your own fans joked about it.

Ashton found the memes hilarious. Sitting beside you one day on your couch as he laughed and turned his phone towards you, showing you an instagram post.

"They think I'm on some kind of survival show."

You snorted from beside him, reaching into the popcorn bowl.

"You kind of are." You replied semi seriously as you turned your head to look at him.

"Oh?" He smiled in amusement, raising his eyebrows.

"There are weekly evaluations." You pointed out, poking his ribs with your finger.

He set down the bowl of popcorn dramatically.

"I knew it." He faked annoyance with a giant grin on his face that was hard to contain.

"You scored well this week." You nodded at him.

"I'll take it." He quickly attacked you in a bear hug as you giggled uncontrollably.

-

The thing no one saw was how easy he made everything.

Not because he was perfect.

Because he paid attention.

You mentioned once, in passing, that airports overwhelmed you because that’s where you have had a very public breakup with one of your exes that left you sobbing on the curb.

The next time you flew together, Ashton quietly booked a lounge so you could wait somewhere peaceful.

He never mentioned why or even gave much thought into explaining it to you.

You complained that hotel rooms never smelled like home and that they all looked the same.

The next tour stop you opened your hotel room door to find Ashton sitting on the bed with your laptop opened on your favorite movie.

Your favorite scented candle was burning on the dresser near the tv. Your favorite take out food was sitting in the table in the corner of the room along with your favorite soda.

A tiny speaker already connected to your playlist and a blanket from his house wrapped over the bed.

“Your show was great, you did amazing!” he smiled at you as you practically jumped on him.

-

You forgot your lucky rings before an awards show.

He drove forty-five minutes back to the hotel, through traffic to get them.

Didn't even tell you until you noticed them sitting beside your makeup.

"You went back?" You asked him, turning to look behind you, eyes wide in surprise

"You wanted them." He replied nonchalantly as he scrolled on his phone and texted people.

"That's like….an hour and a half." You stammered out in disbelief

He shrugged. “So?"

It was always so?

Like loving you wasn't some enormous sacrifice and burden.

Like caring was normal.

-

One night you were writing.

You were having a completely difficult night. Absolutely nothing was coming to mind and you were overthinking and overwhelmed with everything.

You stared at the notebook, slightly sniffling as your mind raced from everything to if you fed your cat today to if being in a relationship is the right thing at the moment for you.

"I think maybe everyone online is right." You sniffled as you wiped your eyes, throwing the pen in frustration.

Ashton looked up from tuning one of his guitars.

"About?" He raised an eyebrow.

"My expectations." You huffed out, putting your head in your hands and holding your head up.

He frowned.

"What about them?"

"What if I just...expect too much?" Your voice cracked slightly. Ashton stood up and walked over to where you were sitting.

He closed the notebook gently.

"You expect honesty." He spoke softly, grabbing your hands and pulling them down.

Silence.

"You expect consistency." He turned your chair around and looked down at you.

"You expect someone to communicate." He put both his hands in the side of your head and kissed your forehead.

"You expect someone to celebrate your wins instead of competing with them."

His thumb brushed across your cheek bone.

"You expect someone to make you feel safe."

Your eyes had tear pouring from them at this point, letting out every emotion you had been bottling in for the last few days.

He smiled softly.

"That's not high maintenance." He said softly to your as he wiped you eyes.

"You've just dated people who made kindness feel expensive." He added on.

-

The next album came almost two years into your relationship. Fans expected another devastating breakup record, assuming that Ashton was long gone and you had already wrote a song about him.

Track three was called Maggots for Brains

Track seven was called Loving Life Again

The closing song was called Expectations

Y/NFORREAL posted on instagram!

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y/nforreal: my junior album you seems so sad for a girl so in love is out everywhere now! tagged: ashtonirwin

view comments:

fan4: r we gonna talk about how in expectations she said "he will be evolved" and 5sos has a song CALLED EVOLVE??? ---fan5 replied: hes also in the photo dump holding up the album?? ashtonirwin & y/nforreal liked this comment ashtonirwin: congrats beautiful!! it's on repeat during vip press confrences ---fan45: AWWW ---fan3: can atest, i was there yesterday

During an interview, the host smiled knowingly.

"So…” The host pulled her glasses down a little bit and looked at you over them.

You already knew what was coming, you grinned widely.

"People spent years saying your expectations were impossible." She started, smiling back at you.

You laughed. "They weren't." You pulled your sleeve down and grabbed your water.

"What changed?" She asked, winking at you.

You smiled brightly as you thought about Ashton, who wasn’t with you at the moment due to 5SOS tour, but still acted like he was with sending flowers and food to your doorstep.

"The person." You started.

“You know Ashton is a very kind person, in the beginning on the relationship i said there was weekly tests.” You laughed along with the host.

“He passed them all with flying colors and went above and beyond. He’s what I’ve been waiting for and I'm so grateful to have him.” You beamed about him causing a few “aww” from the crew.

-

Later that night, Ashton saw the interview clip online.

"So apparently I'm raising the bar." He raised his eyebrows at his phone camera on facetime.

"You are." You smiled and nodded your head.

He groaned dramatically. “Sorry, gentlemen, I know.. I’m just the best." he faked annoyance and ego.

You laughed.

"You know what's funny?" You asked with a soft chuckle, propping your phone up on your vanity as you took your makeup off.

"What?" He asked, giving you his full attention. He quickly shushed Michael as he screamed in the other side of the dressing room he was in.

"They kept saying we'd never work because my expectations were too high." You said, putting your makeup remover down and grabbing your hairbrush.

He just laughed and shrugged. "I never thought they were."

"No?" You asked confused. He quickly got up and walked toa private place of the venue where no one could interrupt his conversation with you.

"I just figured-" He opened and closed a door before continuing.

"...if someone tells you exactly how they want to be loved, why wouldn't you listen?" He spoke nonchalantly, propping his phone up on some kind of table he was sitting at.

You stared at him a little dumbfounded by his response, everyone you had before always complained about everything you had asked for, even if it was as much as grabbing a water even though they're grabbing one for themselves already.

"See?" You groaned out.

"What?" He asked in shock at your response.

"This is exactly why everyone online likes you more than me." You put your hands over your face and dragged them down.

He laughed so hard he had knocked his phone over, hearing a little 'woah' before seeing his phone propped up again. You laughed slightly.

"They don't like me more." He tried to argue with you.

"They absolutely do."

"They just like seeing you happy."

You rested your head against you propped up knee on your chair, looking into the camera. You smiled slightly watching him talk about things.

For years, people had mistaken your songs for wishful thinking.

As if asking to be chosen, respected, and cherished was some impossible fantasy.

Then Ashton came along.

He never treated your expectations like a challenge to conquer or a checklist to complete.

He simply loved you in all the quiet ways you'd been writing about all along.

And somewhere between the airport lounges, handwritten notes tucked into musical instrument cases, surprise visits after late night shows, and the way he still looked at you like you were his favorite person in every room, your fans slowly realized something too.

Your standards hadn't been unrealistic.

They'd just been waiting for the right person to meet them.

"I have to go, love." He said, breaking your zone out state.

"Ok" You frowned into the camera. "I miss you." you picked up your phone and moved it closer to your face.

"Blow the roof off that place rockstar." You added as he also picked up his phone.

Your hand freezes halfway to your drink.

No. Your eyes widened as you turn your head.

It couldn't be.

You look toward the other end of the bar, and there he is.

Calum.

For a split second, the room disappears.

The music becomes muffled beneath the rush of blood in your ears, conversations fading into a distant blur. It feels like the floor has shifted beneath you, like someone has reached into your chest and pulled on a thread you'd spent two years carefully trying to tuck away.

He looks older than the last time you saw him.

Not dramatically, it had just been a few years since you had seen him last.

His hair curls a little longer around towards the back of his neck than you remember. More tattoos snake beneath the sleeves of a faded black, tight fit t-shirt.

His jaw is sharper now, softened only by the familiar dimple that appears whenever he smiles at something one of his friends says.

The little silver ring still sits on his finger.

He still absentmindedly taps rhythms against the bar with his fingertips.

Some habits never leave.

As if sensing your stare, he glances up. His eyes meet yours.

The smile that was painted on his face, falls. A look of shock crossing his eyes.

For one impossible heartbeat, neither of you moves.

Then his lips part ever so slightly.

"...Y/N?"

It was a quiet that you could barely hear it.

Your feet carry you toward him before your mind has made the decision.

You stop a few feet away, both of you wearing the same expression.. a mixture of disbelief, nostalgia, and something that hurts too much to name.

"You look....."

He trails off, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"I could say the same thing." You laughed softly back, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at him.

"You still live here?" He asked, standing up and walking over to meet you where you were.

You nod as you looked up at him, taking in notes of how his eyes had aged.

"I never left."

He smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm only here for a few days."

Of course he is.

He always was.

For the past decade, Calum had become someone the whole world borrowed. Cities, countries, tours, interviews, studios.

There had once been a time when you knew exactly where he'd be every afternoon after school. Now you couldn't even guess what continent he'd wake up on.

He gestures toward the empty stool beside him. "Would it be weird if I bought you a drink?"

You let out the smallest laugh.

"I think it'd be weirder if you didn't."

One drink becomes two.

Two become hours.

The conversation falls into place with startling ease, like slipping into a favorite sweater you'd forgotten you still owned.

You tell him about your job, how your cats had been doing, updates on your family, and so so much more.

He tells you about recording.

You laugh about the time he broke his arm trying to jump off your garage roof because he insisted he could "absolutely land it."

"You dared me." He scoffed with a giant grin on his face.

"I absolutely did not." You rolled your eyes, bringing your drink up to your lips and taking a sip.

"You literally counted down." He argued back jokingly.

"I counted because I thought you'd chicken out." It was now your turn to scoff at him with a grin on you face.

"You underestimated how stupid thirteen-year-old me was." He said slightly loud.

"I still underestimate how stupid thirty-year-old you is." You laughed, putting a hand on his forearm as you leaned forward.

He grins. "Fair."

You both laugh. The conversation was basically effortless.

You had been neighbors before you had been friends.

Your bedrooms faced each other across a narrow stretch of grass, and during summer break you'd sit on your respective roofs shouting conversations across the gap until one of your parents yelled for you to come inside.

At twelve, he'd taught you how to play bass.

At fourteen, you'd helped him pass algebra.

At sixteen, he was the first person you called after getting your driver's license.

At seventeen, he held your hand outside the hospital after a family member had passed away, never saying a word because he knew you didn't want comfort, you just didn't want to be alone.

By eighteen, everyone assumed you were dating.

You weren't. Not then at least.

The feelings had always existed beneath the surface, quietly waiting for one of you to be brave enough.

Neither of you were.

Until twenty-two.

"It was raining." Calum says suddenly, breaking the silence.

You blink.

"What?" You asked him confused.

"The first time we kissed." He stated as if it was matter of fact

You smile into your glass, putting it down and looking at him. "You remember."

"You don't?" He replied almost too fast for your liking.

"I remember everything."

The confession hangs between you.

You'd been sitting in his truck after watching some terrible horror movie. Rain hammered against the windshield while neither of you made any move to leave.

You'd looked at him. He'd looked at you.

Then quietly asked,

"Can I?"

You'd never answered. You'd simply leaned across the center console. It had felt inevitable almost like breathing.

Like finally finishing a sentence the two of you had been writing since childhood.

"What happened to us?" His voice is barely above a whisper, his drink long forgotten about as he looked over at you.

It's the first difficult question of the night. You stare down at the condensation gathering around your glass.

"We grew up." You swallowed hard as you downed the last of your drink and ordered another.

"No." Calum replied short, letting out a huff of a laugh as he leaned back into his chair.

"We did." Your gaze followed him as he leaned back.

"I think.." he sighs. "I think we just kept missing each other."

You know he's right. When he was home, you were building your career. When you finally had time, he was halfway across the world.

Phone calls became voice messages. Voice messages became texts. Texts became likes on Instagram.

Likes became birthdays. Birthdays became....

Nothing.

Not because either of you stopped caring but because caring wasn't enough anymore.

Eventually, silence became easier than missing someone every day.

The bartender announces last call.

The words slice through the warmth surrounding the two of you.

Last call.

The irony isn't lost on either of you.

Calum lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Guess they're trying to tell us something."

You smile sadly, eyes welling up with tears as you quickly sniffled and threw your head back so they wouldn't fall.

"They're a little late."

Outside, the night air is cool enough to raise goosebumps across your arms.

The city feels quieter than it should.

Streetlights paint soft pools of gold across empty pavement while the sounds of distant traffic echo somewhere beyond the parking lot.

For a while, neither of you says anything.

You both simply stand there.

Two people who know each other better than almost anyone else trying to figure out how to become strangers.

"I've missed you." He said softly, breaking the silence.

The words come so quietly you almost don't hear them.

You close your eyes.

"I know."

"No." His voice cracks.

"You don't." He added.

When you look back at him, his eyes are glossy.

"I've looked for you in every city." He confessed, a tear falling down his face.

Your breath catches.

"In coffee shops." He laughs weakly.

"At airports, in crowds." His voice became desperate and almost like begging.

"Every girl I'd meet..." he pauses. "I'd wonder if she'd laugh like you."

Your chest aches, tears falling from your eyes as you now stood in front of him. The dull glow from the street light and the moon illuminating his tear stained face.

"I stopped listening to songs you would've liked because I couldn't send them to you anymore."

Silence settles around you but its not awkward. You swallow hard before replying to him.

"I did the same thing."

He steps closer but its not enough to touch.

Just enough that you can smell the cedarwood cologne you bought him for Christmas years ago.

You wonder if he realizes he's still wearing it.

"I kept thinking that if we ran into each other again that it would..." he started before he laughed, shaking his head and looking down..

"...maybe it'd mean something."

"It does." You quickly said, he looked up at you.

"It does?"

"It means we finally get to say goodbye." You said softly, reaching out to run your hand down his arm and to hold his hand gently.

His face falls almost imperceptibly.

"I don't want goodbye."

"I know." You said softly, your voice breaking.

"I want another chance."

Your heart begs you to say yes. To ask him to stay. To suggest breakfast tomorrow.

One more coffee.

One more conversation.

One more kiss.

One more week.

One more life.

But you know yourselves too well. If he stayed until tomorrow...

Tomorrow would become next weekend and then next month and then another goodbye at another airport.

Another promise to call. Another cycle of almosts. You couldn't survive losing him twice.

"I think.." you whisper. "We've loved each other in every way except the one that mattered."

He wipes at his eye with the heel of his other hand.

"...That's a cruel thing to say." He let out a slight chuckle.

"It's true." You said, your heart breaking as you did the opposite of what your brain was screaming at you to say.

"We were kids." He laughed dryly.

"We were."

"We were friends."

"The best."

"We were almost everything." He shook his head, taking his hand away and looking at the ground, kicking at it.

You nod. "Almost."

He opens his arms and you step into them immediately.

He still hugs exactly the same...one hand spread across your back, the other cradling the back of your head like he's trying to memorize the shape of you.

You bury your face against his chest, listening to the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat, your tears soaking his shirt.

You wonder if his heart recognizes yours the way yours still recognizes his.

"I loved you," he whispers into your hair.

Not love.

Loved.

Past tense. It somehow hurts more.

Tears spill down both of yours cheeks before you can stop them.

"I know." You whispered into his chest.

"I never stopped." You added on, squeezing your eyes shut to try and make the tears stop.

"I know."

When you finally pull apart, you're both smiling through tears.

The kind of smiles reserved for people who know this moment will live inside them forever.

"I hope," he says quietly, "that whoever gets to love you next gets all the versions of you I never got to meet."

Your throat tightens as you take a deep breathe.

"I hope someone reminds you that you don't have to carry everything by yourself." You reply to him.

He laughs through wet eyes. "You always knew me too well."

"I had a lot of practice." You joke, nudging him with your elbow.

One final laugh.

One final smile.

One final look.

He starts walking backward toward his rental car, unwilling to turn away just yet.

You do the same.

Halfway there, he raises two fingers to his forehead in the same stupid salute he'd given you since you were eleven years old the one he'd do even more after you complained of how cringey it was, every road trip, every sleepover, every hangout.

The one that had always meant,

See you later.

Your lip trembles as you return it.

But this time, instead of see you later.

You both know what it really means.

Goodbye.

And as he drives away, taillights disappearing into the dark until there is nothing left but empty road, you realize that some people are never meant to stay forever.