Short summary:
Calum used to be in a band called 5 Seconds Of Summer when he was still in highschool. But when things got serious, he decided to quit the band and persue soccer. Now the band in back in Australia and he's suddenly presented with his past and has to face old friends and the ultimate reason why he quit in the first place.
TW: mentioning of alcohol and substance abuse, mentioning of suicide attempts
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Calum was lost in thought, tossing his sweaty jersey into his gym bag. He was dimly aware that he was the last soccer player still in the changing rooms, but he wasn't in a rush.
The game had been amazing.
It had been a big points game and they'd managed to qualify themselves for the soccer world championships.
Now his teammates were waiting at the bus for him so they could go out somewhere. They wanted to celebrate their win before training for the big games really started.
Grinning to himself, he shouldered his duffle bag and pushed his damp hair out of his face.
On his way out of the stadium he passed a few press people and paparazzi but his thoughts were occupied by potential designs for their new championship jerseys. As vice team captain he'd definitely get a say in that, right?
And what if Australia actually won the world cup this time?
His grin grew.
He pushed out of the stadium and into the mostly empty staff parking lot behind the arena.
Calum's glance was fleeting but his brain caught on a few seconds later and he was rooted to the spot.
His head snapped back.
And there he was. A man he had hoped to never see again.
He had changed, of course he had. Last time they'd seen each other they had still been stuck in puberty.
But the green-hazel eyes were the same.
Calum tore his eyes away and stared straight ahead.
"Hey there."
His voice.
Calum closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
"What the fuck are you doing here?," Calum bit out, "this is private property."
"They let me in. Backstage, I mean. They usually do at events like this," Ashton spoke calmly. Calum's insides churned.
"What do you want?," Calum snapped.
"I-," to his defense, Ashton sounded intimidated.
Good, Calum thought.
"I was wondering if.. you'd want to talk?"
"Last time we talked, Ashton, you said you never wanted to see my face again," Calum's words were poison and tasted bitter in his mouth, "so why don't you go back to where you came from."
"Cal, c'mon-," Ashton tried.
"Do not," Calum rounded to glare at Ashton, "Call me that."
Ashtons hands worked at his sides. He was squirming under Calum's glare.
"We were kids back then. I didn't mean that," Ashton said quietly.
"What a shame it took you seven years to realize that," Calum gave him a tight lipped smile.
"Cal, mate, you coming?," the team captain came jogging around the corner.
"Yes," Calum turned around.
"Oh, who's that?," the captain asked, "wait, aren't you that guy from that band?"
"He's no one. And he was just leaving," Calum muttered. He didn't turn back and disappeared around the building.
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