Rich Bitch // malum & lashton

six

early update!

CALUM WAS TRYING HARD NOT TO LISTEN to his parents. He tried not to hear them blame each other for him being an awful child. He winced as another insult was thrown. And then another, and then another. But all he could do was sit there, because he wouldn’t dare interrupt them, nor could he get up because the insults would get worse when they thought he was gone.

It had started over the long scolding for making a poor kid bring him home when he was off his face. Then, his mother blamed his father for it because he hadn’t taught him enough. It snowballed from there.

“It’s not my fault you’re an alcoholic!” his father yelled, his face as red as a tomato.

“Yeah, I’m the alcoholic here!” she scoffed.

The rich boy felt sick. His father’s temper was very short, so he had no idea what was going to happen if they kept on arguing. Last time the window was broken, but the time before his nose was. His excuse was that he fell face first and broke it, but nobody believed him.

He felt so powerless in the situation, like all he could do was just sit and watch. He wouldn't dare get in the middle of it. He wanted to get up and leave, but his feet were glued to the ground in fright and his mouth was zipped shut.

He hated when his parent fought. They always fought like they had never been in love, making Calum find it hard to believe that they ever were. They yelled at each other like they were so sick and detested of breathing the same air. They yelled like the only thing making them stay together was him. And that, he came to believe, was the truth.

“Stop it!” he yelled, standing up from his seat, getting a burst of courage.

“Shut up, Calum!” they both yelled at him, so he walked downstairs. He put his brand-new iPhone to his ear, it dialling Ashton’s number.

“Ashton, Ashton, Ashton,” he rushed out as soon as he picked up. “They’re doing it again.”

“M’ not Ashton. It’s your favourite street-rat!” Michael exclaimed through the phone. “Ashton’s high and flirting with Luke at the moment, but I could always come over there and help you relieve your stress.”

He groaned, trying to cover up the fact that he was really upset. “Where are you guys?”

“The usual place to get high.”

“Where’s that?”

“Oh, come on, just because you’re a rich bitch doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”

Calum hung up, angry at the stupid asshole called Michael Clifford. He got into his car and drove (illegally) to the drug street, but parked a while away, because he knew druggies were also thieves. He made his way over to where he assumed Ashton was. He reached the all-too-familiar smell of stale piss. He pushed the door open and went into the room that he thought his best friend would be in.

He stood in the doorway quietly, seeing a girl he’d hadn’t seen in years. She had blond hair that was dyed different streaks of various colours. She had tortoise-shell glasses that were in the shape of the glasses that were totally in fashion right now. Her pretty red lips had spoken so many lies, and her hands had done so many things. Too many things to forgive.

“You shouldn’t be anywhere near Ashton.” He stated angrily and she gasped in surprise, not exactly expecting Calum to go anywhere near a drug place.

“No, no, man, it’s fine.” The aforementioned got up from his previous position on the couch next to Luke and assured his best friend. “She’s not making me sad. I like her.”