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I was feeling ice cream. More specifically, a triple scoop chocolate cookie dough cone. It sounds amazing, and is amazing.

Stormella, however, was not feeling ice cream. She still ordered something any way. She ordered a bowl of vanilla ice cream with Reese's and cookie dough.

I kind of want to eat hers too.

I continued to lick my ice cream while looking around at the people walking up and down the boardwalk. It was mainly children and their parents.

The girl at the ice cream shop ended up recognizing me, she was really cool though. I took a picture with her before we left to come outside.

"So, do you still feel like you need to be drunk?" Stormella asked suddenly.

I looked to her, actually considering it. I mean, memories were still coming to me, but not like they usually do. This was a good distraction, nothing beats being fucking wasted though. The memories don't even hurt me then, usually.

I ended up not saying anything because, I didn't know what answer to give her. I know what she wants to hear, and I know what I want to say.

"Luke." She pushed, after I hadn't responded. What is with her?

"Yes." I nearly shouted, feeling irritated about having to answer this, and surprised at how quickly it made me mad "We've been out for three hours. Do you really think that was enough time to fix my drinking issue?"

She leaned back in her chair, obviously bothered by my reaction.

"No, I didn't think it was enough time Luke. I was asking about today. I just wondered if you felt better since this morning." She responded with the most attitude I've seen from her.

It only enraged me more.

"Why did you think going to a stupid amusement park was going to do anything for me? I wanted to drink before we left and I still do. Now, could you take me back so I can get fucking wasted." I spat at her angrily.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she stood up so fast her chair almost fell over. She grabbed her half eaten ice cream and threw it into the trash forcefully. She turned around quickly and headed off to where her car was.

I stood up and followed behind her quickly, but at a distance. Licking my ice cream to keep it from melting.

Once we were in the car, the tension was much thicker. I stared out the window the entire time, watching palm trees fly by.

It wasn't long before we were back at the hotel. She pulled up in front of the sliding doors. I stared at them, hesitant. Maybe I was being rude.

I was silent, unsure of whether to speak or not.

"Fuck you Luke, good luck with your time off." She said so calmly it was kind of intimidating. She didn't look at me at all.

I unbuckled my seat belt and got out as quickly as I could. I was careful not to spill my ice cream.

I watched as she sped off, out of the parking lot.

A scream pulled me away from watching her leave though.

"Luke is that you?"


"That is the last fucking time I try to help someone." I shouted, while driving down the road.

What a fucking asshole. He couldn't even thank me for trying to help him. Much less treat me with respect. Why am I even helping him anyways?

"I don't even fucking know him."

I sighed heavily.

He wanted me to come stay with him last night. He wanted me to help him, so I tried.

"Fuck him." I yelled as I turned onto my road.

Once I was in my room I threw myself onto my bed.

My room was painted white, with dark hard wood floors. I had a big fuzzy rug in the middle of the room. My bed was up against the wall to the right. My dresser sat beside my desk, which held my keyboard. It was clean for once.

I stared up at my ceiling that was covered in glow in the dark stars. They really made my room interesting at night.

Why does it bother me so much that he's doing this to himself? I wouldn't even call us friends, so what is the reason?

My mind wandered to Kylie instantly.

No, Luke and I are not friends. Kylie is my best friend, that can't be it. Although, this would be the only time I've been in this situation since Kylies.

I thought for a while about this, getting absolutely no where.

Eventually I decided that I needed a nap and this didn't matter.


After I dealt with a herd of fans, I quickly made my way back up to my hotel room. I slammed the heavy door shut and went straight for the fridge.

I pulled it open with too much force, nearly pulling the door off.

Fucking bitch and her stupid ass attempts to help me. I don't need help, I'm perfectly fine. She just wanted an excuse to be around me.

I searched the fridge for my Jack Daniels before remembering she had poured it down the toilet.

I slammed the door to the fridge hard. I heard a bunch of stuff in it fall over.

Thats when I started throwing things. It started with an apple, then turned into the fruit bowl. I went from the kitchen to the living room, throwing pillows and shoving couches over. I threw the plants at the wall, the vases shattering and littering glass everywhere. I even kicked my guitar case across the room.

The anger that was running through my body needed more, I need to break more stuff. So that's when I started throwing the bar stools, shattering a chandelier in the kitchen. Glass rained down onto the island. I threw another into the living room. It landed on the couch.

It wasn't much longer after that till my body ran out of anger and I tripped over the couch. I landed on the ground, surrounded by broken vases and plants.

I started sobbing. My hands on my face as I cried loudly into them.

I reached for my phone in my pocket, calling the only person who would listen.

I waited for them to answer their phone as mine rang into my ear.

I was about to hang up, right when their voice filled my ears.

"Hey Luke." Ashton said happily, I responded with a loud, painful sob.

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