80. Broken Home Song Preference - Calum

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Part 1/4

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Requested by:
@StaceyStonier

*WARNING*
Mentions of:
• Fighting (verbally)
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Alrighty so for this one I'm taking the lines for each boys preference from the parts they sing in the song (yes I know there's a lot of overlap)- Ashton'll just get a different line that I pick

Calum:  
"Who's right? Who's wrong? Who really cares? The fault, the blame, the pain's still there..."

Screaming and yelling. Never a moment of peace, or quiet. Your parents had problems, and although they weren't being directly taken out on you, their constant fighting over everything was freaking you out.

Spats started over unloading the dishwasher would devolve into screaming matches about who had to do all of the work and ungratefulness which just ended up being insult after insult hurled at one another. Eventually when their voices were too hoarse to continue, one would leave, usually your father, and get drunk then crash at a friends house. Your mother would confine herself to their shared bedroom, and despite her best efforts, her muffled crying could be heard even through the thickest of walls.

You were horrified. Your parents marriage seemed to be on the rocks, all they cared about was who was right, and who had "won" the argument. In reality it was you who lost, because you had to listen to it.

It hurt you deep deep down in your heart to hear two people who used to be so in love, who had raised you and cared for you together, start saying such terrible things.

If they could stop loving each other, could they stop loving you? Were you just as replaceable and irritating?

The question gnawed at you, randomly coming back to haunt you at random points in your day. When your teacher lectured you on work ethic, when you went about your chores, when you watched your classmates tell each other they'd be together forever.

Forever didn't seem like such a long time anymore.

It was rather disheartening to think about being abandoned by your parents, left behind while they both went their separate ways. It became a reoccurring nightmare.

It always began the same way, dark and loud. The screaming voices of your parents rising over each other as they fought about who hogged the television. Then you'd begin to materialize, a person in a black space, nothing to see, but loud echoing voices that penetrated your skull

"IT'S MY TELEVISION AND I'LL WATCH WHAT I DAMN WELL PLEASE!" Your dad would scream from somewhere behind you.

"IT'S NOT YOURS, ESPECIALLY WHEN ALL YOU WANT TO WATCH IS TRASH!" Your mothers voice loudly echoed from somewhere above you.

"TRASH? YOU'RE CALLING WHAT I WATCH TRASH? LOOK IN A MIRROR, MAYBE I'M JUST USED TO IT!" Then the insults truly started, rattling around in your mind.

As soon as things got personal, your parents would appear. Red in the face, worked up and yelling and each other.

"I WISH I HAD NEVER MARRIED YOU! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A SAD EXCUSE OF A MAN!" Your Mum yelled, pushing your father back with a shove to the shoulders.

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