for every question why

brazil

In the end, Calum's naive desire to try and please his parents won out. They were ecstatic when he told them he wanted to accept the offer. Their validation didn't feel as good as Calum expected it to.

The look on Ashton's face when he told them he was actually going to Brazil was one of the worst things he'd ever seen.

"What about us?" Ashton asked. Calum was having a hard time looking at him, so he stuck his gaze to the wood of Michael's kitchen table.

"Who knows if this is even gonna amount to anything? Football is safer," Calum muttered, the same speech his mother had been telling him since the letter came.

Ashton scoffed loudly. "Are you even listening to yourself? I'm looking at Calum right now, but it sounds like Mrs. Hood is talking."

"Ash-" Michael tried. Ashton must have been getting red in the face if Michael decided to step in. Calum had never been on the receiving end of Ashton's angry red face before.

"No!" Ashton shouted, standing up from his seat. The scratching of the chair leg against the wooden floor made Calum flinch. "He won't even look at us! He knows this is wrong." Ashton spoke like Calum wasn't even in the room and it made Calum feel even smaller than he already felt.

"I'm sorry," Calum said, finally looking back up at his best friends. His own explanation felt too big to say; Calum couldn't even chop it up into decipherable chunks for himself.

"I'm sure you are," Ashton sneered. "It's all about you, isn't it? Did you ever stop to think about how much you're fucking us over?" he gestured to Luke and Michael who both refused to look at Calum.

"You asked me what I wanted, Ash. I'm telling you." Calum wasn't sure where his words ended and his parents began. "You said that it sucked that they were putting so much pressure on me." He paused, and the air felt calm for a moment, like a picture taken moments before a bomb dropped. "Look around. I'd say I'm feeling the pressure, but I can't really tell where it's coming from now? Did you really think the band is what's best for me? Or were you too busy thinking about your own ticket out?"

Calum's voice raised until he was shouting back at Ashton. His words echoed around the room, each wave hitting Ashton like a physical attack.

"You really think that little of me?" Ashton asked softly. "That I was just using you as a means to an end?"

"I don't know. Maybe." He hoped that wasn't all he was to Ashton, but he refused to cry in front of them.

"Well, then you're just about as stupid as the decision your parents made," Ashton said, his voice too calm for the finality his words spoke. "Oh, sorry. You made." Ashton stormed out of the house, and in the distance, Calum could hear the engine of his car driving off.

For the first time, something real sparked in Calum. He knew that it had all started long before this fight, with shy glances and too-long hugs and late-night drives, but that was when life decided to rear its head and punch Calum in the face. When he grabbed at his throbbing nose, the only blood pouring out was composed of Ashton's words.

Brazil was basically one big bloody mouthful that he had to wait two months to spit out. Torture wasn't strong enough to describe Calum's isolation from everyone.

The football was fine, he was excelling even, but he couldn't stop thinking about what Ashton had said that night. He felt sick knowing his friends were mad at him and he could barely justify his reason for being halfway across the world. He didn't care that his parents were proud of him anymore. He was just as unhappy with their validation as he would have been without it.

Coming home both was and was not what Calum expected. Mali picked him up from the airport, and after a shower and a nap, he had dinner with his family. He told them then that he would be quitting football. The band would be taking its place.

When he walked out the front door a few moments later, the plate of uneaten food and his father's glare in his periphery, he reasoned it out to himself. At least music made him feel alive and didn't leave him alone spitting blood, a continent away.

To say Calum was surprised to find Ashton and Luke at Michael's would be a lie because of course, they were there. The show must go on, because fuck Calum for leaving, right? He got hugs from Michael and Luke while Ashton fiddled with his phone from behind the drum kit. They pestered him with questions about how it was, and if he liked it, and when he was going back, but Ashton's lips stayed pressed in a firm line.

"I'm not," Calum said. The drummer's eyes flicked up at that.

"Not what? Cal?" Michael asked, just then noticing the intense gaze between Ashton and Calum.

"Not going back. Told my parents tonight." Calum smiled, small but present. "I wanna do the band. I'm in."

No one said anything for a moment, Luke and Michael anxiously looking back at Ashton. Calum couldn't tell what emotion overtook Ashton's face, whether it was good or bad.

(Looking back, it was most likely acceptance of the same thing Calum had come to terms with, scared and alone in his bed the night before leaving for Brazil.)

Ashton offered to drive him home that night and Calum accepted. Driving past the docks, Calum knew something had shifted in their relationship. They were no longer the Calum and Ashton that got ice cream after a bad day. They were some new conglomeration of thoughts and ideas and preconceived notions.

"I never meant to pressure you into the band," Ashton said, his eyes locked on the road ahead of him.

"I know, Ash."

"No, I don't want you to think that I was doing the same thing as them," he muttered quietly. There was no radio playing for him to talk over.

"I didn't mean it like that." Calum paused. "It's just, you were right when you were calling me selfish and stuff and I wanted to say something that would hurt you like you hurt me." Ashton made a face. "I didn't mean it though."

"Okay," he whispered. "You weren't being selfish, I was just mad."

"I was, though. I was doing what was easy, just going along with what they said," Calum said. "I was miserable the whole time."

"Really?" Ashton asked, his brows shooting up while he glanced over a Calum for a second.

"Yeah, I knew you were over here being mad at me," Calum chuckled. Once again, Ashton couldn't find it in himself to laugh.

The rest of the ride was silent. Ashton wasn't drumming a beat out on the steering wheel and Calum felt hollow. Once he pulled up to Calum's house, Ashton finally let their eyes meet.

"Do you really think this could work?" Calum asked.

"I really do. I just want what's best for you, Cal. If you really want to do football," Ashton looked down at his hands for a moment, "I won't be mad or anything."

"I want this. I promise," Calum whispered, grabbing Ashton's hand. "I've missed you."

Missing Luke and Michael too went without saying, but Ashton seemed to understand.

"I missed you too."

Calum sighed, a small smile coming onto his lips.

"Can we just forgive each other?"

"Yeah," Ashton breathed out, a similar smile tipping the corners of his mouth up. Calum resisted the urge to lean into the older boy's intoxicating gaze.

Calum whispered out goodbye and floated on a cloud to his front door. He watched as Ashton's car drove away and he spared a thought to what Ashton was thinking about.