A Certain Romance (Reimagined)

Meltdown Over A Painting

"Dude chill, it's just a painting." The friend shouted to Calum.

"Just a painting, Charles?!" Calum pointed to the painting. "Does this look like it's just a painting to you?!" I guess it was a little important, the painting seemed fancy. I don't know....I knew nothing about art.

Charles shook his head, trying to stare right into Calum's eyes even though Calum's eyes were glued to the object in his hands. "N-"

"Everyone get out." Calum interrupted Charles. "The party is over."

The drunken assholes nearby began to laugh and anyone should know better than to laugh when Calum turned that deep Crimson color that signaled he was ready to knock someone out or murder them and hide their body in his backyard.

"I said, the party is over. LEAVE!" He angrily ordered again.

Those who weren't ready for the party to be over were tossing their cups full of alcohol to the floor and were shooting annoyed glares at Calum. Gutsy drunks.

"Has he been like this since I left?" I asked Ashton.

"The last hour or so he's been on a rampage." Ashton tossed his arm over my shoulders and pulled me into his side. Did he just call me back to watch Calum lose his shit?

Ally was long gone, leaving Luke to lean into my side to get my attention. Michael never got up from the couch and didn't even look slightly disturbed by Calum's yelling.

"I'll talk to him?" I said very unsurely.

"What if he makes you cry?" Luke asked.

Rich people and their paintings. A combination I never understood. I didn't appreciate a beautiful piece of art because there were more meaningful things in life to worry about. I understood that there were better things to have as conversation starters than a painting. Like weather or the latest celebrity scandal, things that didn't require much money.

I followed suit of Calum walking to the kitchen with the large painting still being tightly gripped. "Shouldn't you have left too?" Calum muttered from over his shoulder, setting the art against the cabinets. He didn't seem to have a memory of me actually leaving early in the night, so that was good I guess.

"I thought what would Jesus do? But doing something good would involved staying here and helping you clean this place without a fuss. So, my second thought was, what would satan do? And he would sit here and cherish the moment when one of the worst people in the world has a break down over a painting and kicks everyone out of his house." I carefully picked up a part of someone's extensions, tossing them in the nearby trash can. The kitchen was such a lovely place to lose your hair. "I'm going to take advantage of the moment when you are at your weakest."

Calum laughed dryly while rubbing his chin and nodding to my words.

"Thanks for never treating me differently than I deserve." He began clearing all the cups into a trash bag. "You, Luke, and Michael have always been consistent like that. No matter how nice I treat you guys, you always strike back with some witty remark that reminds me I don't deserve anyone to treat me with the kindness I haven't shown them."

I was slightly taken aback by his comment. A breakthrough.

"We have more brains than your football buddies combined." I scrunched my nose because the scent of alcohol and sweat lingered all over the kitchen counters. Those scents mixed together made it avid end why the house always smelt strongly of bleach if you arrived ten minutes early to the parties. Every surface here was probably sanitized with a lot of care the day after a party.