5 Seconds of Summer Preferences

14. Your Parents Don't Approve

Kind of a follow-up from #11 “His Parents Don’t Like You” and #12 “Your Parents Don’t Like Him”, so it takes the two and ties them together to form this. Let me know if this needs another add-on. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading J

ASHTON

“So, what do we do?” You sit on the swing set, dragging your bare toes through the sand. His parents don’t like, your parents don’t like him, same old, same old. Ashton sighs and looks down at his hands, clasped together. He doesn’t move on the swing, simply sits there, as if it’s a normal chair. He looks up at the sky, blue and clear, as if it’s mocking you, and softly replies, “I don’t know.” You run your fingers through your hair, the way Ashton does with his, and all you can hear are the words of your mum echoing around in your head. It means, that nice isn’t enough. When you meet a guy who is ‘nice’, that doesn’t automatically make him a good person or a good catch. But what does she really mean? You look over at Ashton. He has his head down and he’s staring at his trembling fingers, avoiding your gaze. You feel your heart sink in your chest and you wonder what he’s thinking.

He stares at his fingers, folding and unfolding them, mulling over what happened with his mum. She never said she didn’t like you, but he even then, he could tell. He just wonders why. To him, you’re the stars that shine in the night and you lead him through everything that’s ever troubled him. He just can’t understand why someone wouldn’t love you. He looks up and looks at you, but you’re already staring. It hurts him when he sees how shiny your eyes are, heavy laden with tears as you choke out, “Ashton, what do we do?” Because what can you do, when the people that matter most to you aren’t there when you need them?

CALUM

“Your parents don’t like me, my parents don’t like you. We’re screwed,” the way he says it sounds so melancholic that you want nothing more than to curl up in your bed by yourself and cry until you drown in your own tears. “I’m so sorry,” you bury your face in your hands, “I didn’t think it would come to this.” He wraps his arms around you, “Hey, no, don’t be like that,” he tries to sound cheerful as he pulls you tighter, “Its—It’s not your fault.” He runs his fingers through your hair, “I mean, you couldn’t have seen this coming.” You shake your head, “No, I did.” He tenses up, “What?” You worm out of his grip and look at him, “I knew this would happen.” By the look on his face, you know he doesn’t understand. You take a deep breath and begin, “All along, I knew this would happen. From the moment we first met, I knew you were exactly what my parents would never want me to have. And that’s part of why I wanted you so badly—” He jumps up, fists clenched, “So, it was all about making your parents mad? It had nothing to do with actually caring about me?!”. You jump up to defend yourself. “Calum, no!” You can see the hurt in his eyes, masked by anger. “What am I to you, if anything at all? Am I just something to use and put on display? I am a person, too, you know! I have feelings, too! I’m not something in a museum!” And you know he’s right. “Calum, I can explain!” But he’s too hurt, “Alright, then explain.” You’re at a loss for words. “EXPLAIN!”

LUKE

It’s been three days, and not a word between you two, no contact whatsoever. You’re upset with yourself for not defending him, but the cynic in you claims that it’s only fair, since he did the same to you. But that’s not right. That’s no way to treat people, especially the ones you love who love you. You replay the events over and over again inside your head, torturing yourself. You want to call him, apologize, hear his voice, but you don’t want to be the one to break first. You decide against the call and instead decide on ice cream.

The fresh air is a nice change after being cooped up for so long. Walking out of the ice cream shop, you bump into the chest of someone very tall and familiar. Ugh. “Oh, I’m sorry!” He doesn’t recognize you at first. “Luke, hi…” Then he looks down and sees you, his expression torn between hurt and relief. “Hey,” it’s soft, but still audible. You look at your feet, awkwardly trying to walk away, but puts a hand on your shoulder, “Wait, let’s talk.” Your breath catches and you look up. “Please?” he asks. You give in and nod, “Fine.” He gives you a tired smile and you notice the prominent circles under his eyes. You’re the first to break, “Luke, I’m really sorry… You didn’t deserve that.” He runs his fingers through your hair, “I know, and I’m sorry, too. I—I don’t know, I just—There’s no excuse, really, I was just being a coward.” You smile at him, a smile that lights up your eyes, and intertwine your fingers, “At least you’re aware. That;s better than nothing.”

MICHAEL

“She said that she doesn’t think we’re ‘right for each other’,” he quotes. You sigh, “Mine say that we’re ‘not good for each other’.” They won’t even give it a chance. Knowing how parents think, you can’t help but wonder how right, or wrong, they really are. “But do you think they could be right?” The instant the words leave your mouth, you regret them. “Are you saying you don’t think this is worth it? Is that what you’re saying?!” You put your head down in your hands, “No, Michael, that’s not it.” He raises his voice and clenches his fists at his sides, “What is it about, then?” You jump up, “This is about us! Not them, us!” And before you know it, what was once a civilized conversation has become a full-blown screaming match. It seems the two of you can’t settle anything without getting angry.

“Well, then what do you want?!” Michael yells. You throw your hands up, “You know what, Michael, I don’t know! I thought that maybe we could work this out or find some way, but I don’t know, maybe it’s not just our parents that will get in the way, after all.” You sigh and slump over, away from him. Michael sighs again, “Maybe they are right.” You look up at him, in both worry and shock, “What?” he takes one of your hands in his, “I mean, if you can’t work things out, without getting mad at each other, then maybe we aren’t right for each other.” You look at him, disappointed that he’s giving up on you so easily. “So, that’s it? You’re going to just… Give me up? Give us up? Just like that?” He looks down, “I guess so.”