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   Ashton, Calum, Luke and Michael entered QCT High, stood in close group and chatting softly. The three seniors accompanied Ashton to his locker, but unfortunately a blonde head was blocking it. The girl turned, paint in hand, and was revealed as Amylee. On the metal door, was SLUT in jagged letters.

Ashton gasped softly, while Calum took an immediate, threatening step towards Amylee. "Careful, love. Wouldn't want to catch the slut's chlamydia." The teenager spoke overly loudly, and a few of the passing students gasped, while others were already texting their friends with the gossip.

"Fuck off," Michael hissed, grass green eyes darkening to a volatile black. Amylee turned quickly; their school didn't believe in treating one gender differently, and the boys were happy to beat someone up if they insulted Ashton, boobs or not. She flounced away, happily filling in every unaware teenager she passed.

Meanwhile, Luke and Calum held Ashton gently, murmuring soothing words to the smaller lad. Michael stormed off to find a janitor for the locker, his hair matching his eyes. A sea of black, with very few hues of green. "It's okay, baby. She's horrible, the rest of the school isn't like that," Luke cooed, only to have a giggly brunette girl make a snide comment as she passed.

"Ever heard of a condom? Keep your slutty ass away from our boys." Ashton made a coughing, choking whimper, holding back sobs, before running out of the high school, tripping and stumbling.

"Ashley? Dude, where're you going?"

"Somewhere." Ashley Frangipane followed a slim boy out of her high school, trailing his bubblegum pink and cornflower blue curls. Though the five-foot-four girl usually would've had trouble keeping up with his leggy strides, he was sobbing and stumbling. She caught up quickly, lightly grabbing his bicep. "Hey."

Ashton looked up, revealing a bright red face, tears streaming down his cheeks. "As- Ashley?" He stuttered, recognizing the kind, raven haired girl from The Night.

"Yeah. Are you okay?" The boy looked unsure of what to say; he never liked to lie, but he also didn't like responding negatively. The thing was, Ashton was always in a good mood, he was never unhappy for long, at least before The Night. Ashley, unfortunately, wasn't as good at reading his expressions as Calum, Luke and Michael, and patiently waited for a response, while the other three would know the answer without him saying.

"I- I-" he stammered, voice thick with tears.

"Ash, your face is an open book," Ashley murmured, as if she'd heard his thoughts. "But I've seen you with your friends. Speak up for yourself." Said friends appeared before Ashton could fully process the words.

"Hey, baby." Luke wrapped the smaller boy in his arms, Ash hiding his face in the blonde's broad shoulders. "Come on, baby, we'll go home. I'll make you cookies."

   "Not helping, you suck at making cookies," Michael commented, receiving a teary giggle from Ashton. Calum nodded at Ashley distractedly, before the four boys headed towards Michael's car.

   "Mum will make you cookies," Luke corrected as they walked. Formalities had long since been abandoned, and no longer was it 'my mum' or 'my dad.'

   "Thank you," Ash giggled, though tears were still dripping lightly down his cheeks. Luke wiped them away gently, and though they were immediately replaced with new ones, the action had its intended, comforting effect. The pastel haired boy once again hid his smooth skinned face against the blonde's shoulder. It was odd, seeing the seventeen-year-old smiling and giggling—though both lacked most of their usual brightness—while tears dripped down his tanned cheeks. It hurt his mates' hearts, they drew happiness from the younger boy's adorable, innocent smiles.

   "Of course," the blonde cooed, before they reached Luke's car and Calum tugged the curly haired boy into the back with him. Ashton almost immediately collapsed across his lap, hiding his face with baby blue, fuzzy sweater paws.

   He suddenly started sobbing again, shoulders looking thin as they shook weakly. The boys murmured gentle conversations, a distraction, but quiet enough so that Ashton could interrupt them at any time if he wanted to speak. The sweater that hung off the teenager's bony shoulder slipped further down his arm as his slim body shivered, deserving a teary, panicked yelp from the seventeen-year-old. He immediately shoved it back up to cover his skin, burying his face in his hands and crying harder. His friends immediately saw what was going on.

"Oh, baby," Calum murmured, voice heavy with sympathy.

"Am I—am I a slut?" The seventeen-year-old whimpered, looking up with teary hazel eyes. It was obvious he needed an honest answer, and seemed to think there was a chance it could be yes.

"No," Michael said, immediately and firmly. "You are a sweetheart, baby. You couldn't stop Remi, it's not at all your fault." Ashton glanced up hopefully, though disbelievingly. His best friends reassured the smaller boy, deserving a tentative little giggle.

They arrived at the Hemmings household soon, Luke leading them through the unlocked door. Liz greeted them immediately, with a tray of cooling cookies balanced on one arm. The three seniors weren't distracted by the melting chocolate—though they usually would've—more focused on Ashton.

   "Oh, Ashton, darling," Liz cooed, wrapping her free arm around the pastel haired lad. "Come sit, sweetie, I have some more cookies in the kitchen. And they have rainbow M&MS," she added with a wink.

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