5sos Preferences

37. Twitter Hate

A S H T O N ;

You were sitting around with the boys watching a movie that you weren't paying attention to.

You were bored so you decided to aimlessly scroll through twitter. Some how you ended up searching through my mentions.

Bad idea.

You couldn't see how some of Ashton's so called 'fans' could be so harsh with the words they were throwing at you.

Ugly, fat, unworthy, whore - all being the mains ones.

You looked over to where Ashton was sitting. He turned to you giving you a smile before returning his attention back onto the TV.

You had to excuse yourself from the room as you could feel the tears start to form in your eyes.

You locked yourself in the bathroom sitting on the floor with your back agaist the radiator. Maybe Ashton would be better off without me. You thought. These thoughts kept swimming around in your head as you fought with yourself constantly. You needed a release from all this pain. You got up off the floor quickly searching for a razor or anything sharp. Anything that could end this pain now.

"Babe... Are you okay in there?" Ashton called from outside.

"Y-Yeah, I-I'm fine," You lied through a shaky voice.

"You don't sound it," he said. "Please don't lie to me."

"I'm fine Ashton, please... Just go away," You whispered the last bit.

"Please Y/N, open the door... You're scaring me," he said, his voice becoming uneven.

"I-I can't do this anymore," You cried freely.

"Babe, please hold on. Don't do anything stupid. MICHAEL!" He screamed.

A second later you heard Michael run to the outside of the bathroom. You could faintly hear Ashton say something hurridly to him before a force hit the door with a massive bang. It happened again and again until the door gave way falling down.

You were now crying so much that you couldn't see. Ashton ran straight to you, grabbing the razor out of your hand and chucking it across the room.

He looked to see your phone smashed on the floor where you'd thrown it in anger.

"You've been reading the hate again, haven't you?" He asked softly.

You nodded. "Oh god. You know what they say isn't true. I will love you no matter what and I think you are beautiful and all I could ever ask for."

L U K E ;

You knew you shouldn't have, but you couldn't help it. You were curious and you had nothing better to do. Luke had been at work all day, leaving you bored.

You ended up logging onto twitter and scrolling through your mentions. You wanted to see what the fans were saying about you.

You immediately regretted it as soon as you logged on. Your eyes scanned the messages, full of harsh words.

Luke deserves so much better than Y/N. She's so ugly, he could do better. Don't even get me started on how fat she is.

You kept scrolling until your eyes landed on the one tweet that brought you to your breaking point.

Y/N should just kill herself. No one would miss her. I bet Luke would be happier without her around.

Tears were freely rolling down your cheeks now. Maybe they were right. Maybe Luke would be better off without me. You thought.

You walked swiftly into the bathroom in search of the nearest razor. This was it. You couldn't finally get rid of all these horrible feelings.

As you were about to make the first cut on your wrist, the door swung open.

"Baby, I'm hom-" He started but immediately stopped when he saw you. "W-What are you doing?" He asked shocked and slightly panicked.

You let out a loud sob as you brought your hand to your mouth. You couldn't look at him.

He slowly walked over to you, gently taking the razor out of your hand and placing it down on the side. He then proceeded to take you into the bedroom and lay you down next to him hugging you protectively. He must of seen the Twitter app open on your laptop as he whispered.

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

You didn't reply.

"I want you to promise me something," he said, lifting your chin up so you were directly looking up at him. You nodded slowly. "Never, ever listen to anything those people say. I love you so much and I don't want you to ever take notice of all the hate. They are just jealous of how beautiful and amazing you are. Please, just don't hurt yourself like this. It's not the answer."

M I C H A E L ;

You couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't take it. You just wanted it to all end now.

The unwanted attention. The hate. The rumours spreading.

You were scrolling thorugh Twitter when a fan you followed, tweeted you a link. It was a newspaper article about you and Michael.

The headlines read; Is Y/N really cheating on Michael Clifford? With a picture of you and your cousin, who's a guy, underneath when you both went to Starbucks together last week. Of course Michael knew he was your cousin but other people didn't ,so it caused a ton of hate to be sent to you.

You had to read what they said. You wouldn't ignore it because you wanted to know if you were good enough for Michael or not.

And they said you weren't. But you knew that anyway.

Over the past few weeks, it had been building up and tonight it was going to end. You'd make sure of it.

You took the razor out of the bathroom, sitting on the bed and bringing it to your wrist.

"STOP!" A shout sounded from the doorway, as you saw a dishiveled Michael standing there. "Please... Don't," he whimpered.

"M-Mikey... I-~I didn't think you would be home so early," You said.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, getting angry.

"Please M-Michael... Leave me alone, I can't take it anymore!" I screamed the last words.

He was taken a back by your words and looked like he was about to cry.

"Baby please... Don't do this to yourself. God, if I lose you I don't think I'd be able to carry on," he whispered, sitting next to you and hugging you to him tightly.

"Promise me you won't listen to them, none of it is true."

"I promise."

C A L U M ;

You were about to make the first cut when a smiley Calum came waltzing into the room. You froze from shock not thinking he was home. His smile dropped as soon as he saw you and he kept looking from your face to the razor that was held tightly in your hand.

He didn't say anything which was starting to scare you slightly. He looked to your left where he saw your laptop open with Twitter on the screen.

He shook his head in disappointment, a few tears escaping his eyes as he crumbled to the floor in a heap.

You crawled over to him, quickly wrapping your arms around him as he burried his head into your neck.

"Stop torturing yourself," he pleaded, brokenly.

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered. "I just couldn't handle it."

"You shouldn't listen to the hate. It's sent by those who wish they were you. Who wished they were as beautiful as you, as kind as you, as clever as you and as loved as you are," he sobbed.

"How could you ever love me?" You asked, quietly.

"How couldn't you?" He replied. "Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me show you how much I love you," he whispered, taking your hand and guiding you to the bed.