Chapter 1

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I woke up to someone poking me in the ribs. Probably my brother. I brushed Ashton's hand off me, burying myself deeper into my blankets, making sure my wrists were covered.

"It's time to go, Cam! Wake up!" Ashton shook my shoulder.

"What time is it?" I asked, my voice froggy from sleep.

"Five o'clock in the morning. C'mon, we have to go to the airport and I have to pick up the boys. You know they can't drive this early in the morning without crashing." He reminded me.

"Fine, fine, get out so I can put on some clothes." I muttered.

"Okay, sis. Hurry." Ashton ruffled my long hair, with was brown like his and had bangs that were brushed to the side that I'd dyed purple. Unfortunately, it was also a mess, as was the rest of me.

Ashton left my bedroom, closing the door behind him. I sighed, relieved that he hadn't seen my scars. Getting up, I crossed the room and put on my favorite pair of black skinny jeans, the kind with the rips, a galaxy Paramore T-shirt, and my black converse. I covered my self-harm scars with bracelets. Lots of them.

I had a huge collection of bracelets to wear in case it was too hot for longs sleeves. I knew it was risky, because they could slip around or fall off, but I got hot way too easily. Most of my bracelets were rubber, braided, beaded, or leather, most of which had logos or symbols from bands and artists.

I ran a brush through mt hair, grabbed my suitcase, and started dragging it down the stairs. While it contained my clothes and hair products, there was also a small bag that held razor blades, peroxide, bandages, and concealer so I could cut without people noticing.

The cutting started two years ago. Ash had been famous for a while, his band had been doing great. However, the fans were jealous. Because I was Ashton's sister, I often went on tour with them, and there were rumors a year ago that Michael and I were dating. Even though we weren't, a percentage of the 5SOS family turned really nasty and were horrible to me via social media.

The only way to escape their anger was to take it out on myself.

And, let's not forget Mallory. She's Ashton's girlfriend. Sure, she was super nice and sweet when we all met her, but the moment we were alone, that girl verbally attacked me until I locked myself in my room for three days. Ashton was worried when I didn't come out for a while, but he was busy, and Mallory had him convinced I was upset over something that had happened during senior year.

And now, I'm going on tour with the boys, and guess who else is gonna be there? Mallory, that's who. 

"Let me help, Camden. You're going to fall down the stairs." Ashton told me, taking my suitcase from my hand.

"Thanks. What's for breakfast, Bro-Bro?" I asked, calling by the name I had used when I was little. At the age of two or three, I couldn't say 'brother,' and I've always called him Bro-Bro since.

"Uh, whatever you can find. I had Nutella on toast."

"Good idea." I made my way into the kitchen and popped some bread into the toaster, grabbing the Nutella jar and a butter knife. Nutella is life. 

My dad was sitting at the kitchen table, watching me. I shivered. Even though my back was turned, I could feel his gaze burning holes through me.

Dad and I didn't get along very well. He was a great guy, don't get me wrong, but we didn't communicate well. He thought I should take up an instrument and start a band like Ash, or at least go to college. What he didn't seem to realize is that while Ashton's career is amazing, I still wanted to do something different. I just hadn't figured it out yet.

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