don't you go // lrh

/fourty/

hold on to the memories they will hold on to you

/luke/

We stayed up to watch the sunrise. But just us. My band and Amara and her girls.

Ashton's drunk. That's the only reason why he's allowing himself to be vulnerable and tell them we always wanted a real group of friends. We've always wanted to do shit like this. We were losers back home and weren't invited to parties or hang outs. Even as famous musicians we managed to still be outcasts. And then we met them. And now it's actually cool that we have it. A group. People like us. It's the Ashton way of saying he's grateful for them.

And the girls reciprocated.

"I've never felt like I belonged anywhere. I only felt it with Mad's and Jess. Just them no one else. And it can get...lonely. But now I um, heh, feel it with you guys. And yeah you know what I am glad I met you guys. Even you Ashton." Amara has to cap her sentimental speech with a joke that everyone laughs at.

I don't. Not because it isn't funny. But the idea of her being lonely when I know a handful of people who adore her just breaks my heart. I am not the best with words. I'm prone to saying the dumbest shit possible. So I stay quiet. But I squeeze her hand. As if to say ditto. I'm never lonely with her or when we're apart and I'm thinking about her.

We only retreated inside eventually so we wouldn't catch hypothermia. But honestly if it was like ten degrees warmer or whatever the unit of measurement is in this country, we would've stayed out there longer.

I gave Amara a t-shirt and she fell asleep almost instantly.

Or at least for a couple hours. Four tops.

Winter in L.A is surprisingly grey. They totally lied when they said it's sunny all day year round. It's been miserable since we got back here. It was still misty and gloomy out when Amara shot up out of bed and b-lined for the bathroom.

I was more than happy to get up with her. I followed her into the bathroom and sat by her while she threw up.

Because if I've learned anything about her, it's that she's not a drinker. I think this is officially one of her first real real hangovers, ever. We've drank here and there in the past but she never takes as much as the rest of us. That's why she always wakes up only mildly groggy.

It's fun. Not being the hungover one. But there's something so tragic about Amara you can't help but want to cry when she's upset. Every time she frowns it's like she's about to cry. It's like you've just told her a puppy has died and it's not going to heaven.

When she was done, I helped her stand up so she could brush her teeth. I rush up stairs for just a few minutes. I grab everything that can fit in my hands. From Gatorade to saltine crackers to cold water to Asprin.

"Oh my god this sucks." She spits into the sink when I return.

"Yeah. Welcome to the club." I want to giggle but I don't want to upset her either.

"How do you guys do this? For like days?" She asks, rinsing her face with cold water.

"With...courage." I joke.

She only laughs for a half second, "Oh my god. Please don't be funny. My head is killing me. It hurts to laugh."

"I would totally laugh my ass off at you if you weren't dying. Just so you know." I kiss her forehead, putting the water in one hand and the Gatorade in the other.