After Midnight (a.i.)

51

Ashton's POV 

cw: drug use at ***

Fuck me.

If only she knew the fucking chokehold she had me in. Literally and figuratively.

About an hour later of whatever form of torture that was, beach curfew kicked in and everyone scattered to the house to continue the party. With more bodies and vehicles, the coolers and miscellaneous shit was easier to pack up and carry back to the house. Even in our collective drunken state, we were loaded up and ready to go in fifteen minutes.

Cara's barely spoken to me back at the house, continuing her immature torture that I hated was working. She opted out of the comfy clothes option and chose to stay in her little to nothing fabric she deemed a bikini, taunting my very being with every fucking move she made.

She's mad at me, I get it. I'd be mad too. Though I'm not sure how much of it is anger or rather disappointment. Regardless, she has a right. Somehow she found out I was still using, no idea who squealed on that one, and it doesn't help I've been lying to her about it. I'll admit, I expected flailing fists and a screaming match once she dropped that bomb on me, so I was wildly caught off guard by her means of interrogation.

I know she's drunk and her main goal is to keep a happy face for Jess' sake, so I won't push any of that. That'd piss her off even more if the party got ruined. Lucky for me, I get to mull over that knowledge in my good for nothing brain.

Knowing that she knows, she's pissed, and isn't lashing out on me for the sake of this birthday party wasn't fun company to have stirring around my head. So I'll keep my distance for now. I have to if I want to keep my head and my dignity. Either she'll snap and kill me or I'll get fucking hard from that damn red bikini again.

"Right, Ash?" Calum nudges me from my left as I lean against the kitchen counter, stuck in my own head while that red fabric clings to every thought.

Worst part, truthfully, is that I can't tell if she's really having any fun or if it's an act for Jess. I'm praying it's the former.

"Yeah, right." I nod to him and sip my drink, keeping my eyes fixated on the wildflower across the room as she dances with her best friend. Jess looked ecstatic, I'm glad she's enjoying her party. Mike threw her a good one.

I keep myself occupied next to the boys, clutching my cup of liquid gold in hopes it'll help me get by the rest of the night.  I fucked up giving into Bullet today. I should've told him to fuck off and left with what Mike wanted, but the wiring in my brain wouldn't give me that option so easy. I bit off more than I could chew and maybe sampled some shit I shouldn't have, but how could I resist? With an offer so good it was practically free, I had to.

Just a few sniffs spent my time and I didn't even realize four hours passed by the time I peeled myself off of his couch; head aching and limbs exhausted. I was barely in any shape to hold my ground tonight, not without the artificial energy I'd need to keep me upright now that it's starting to wear off. I had my restocked stash upstairs I could dig into for a little kick, but the mental gymnastics debating my morals were really digging me deeper. Would it be worth it?

After all, she's already mad at you...

"Good party, fellas." Some dipshit speaks to my left. I let Luke and Cal entertain him, seems Luke knows him from a different party. I hear him talk about 'chicks' until dipshit number two clocks in.

"Some good lookers out there tonight." One of them cocks his head toward the living room, swarmed with dancing bodies and glow sticks. Where the hell did we get glow sticks? And why are these guys talking like they're eighty?