Ashton: You hear furious drumming coming from the living room and a sudden snapping sound. “Fuck!” As you round the corner, you see Ashton sweaty, wearing some kind of weird headband, with two broken halves of a drumstick in his hand. “What happened?” He shakes the pieces at you angrily. “Broke my last pair! Now I have to drive across town to get more!” He throws the broken pieces in the trash and grabs orange juice from the fridge. “Why are you so on edge?” He slams the glass down on the counter, and amazingly, it doesn’t break. “I’ve been trying all morning to get the bridge right in the new single, and I can’t!” You let him settle down a second before speaking to him again. “You know, you’re kind hot when you’re angry.” He suddenly smirks at you. “Are you sure? I think it might just be the headband.”
Calum: “Hey Beautiful can I buy you a drink?” This creepy guy at the bar has been hitting on you for 20 minutes as you’re waiting on Calum to get there. “No thanks.” This guy just can’t take a hint. “Are you sure? You know, your boyfriend’s not very smart, leaving you here.” Of course you’re trying to avert your eyes from this guy, but then you hear a chair slide back roughly and a “Hey!” You turn around to see Calum standing between you and the guy with balled fists. Evidently he slid the guy’s chair away from you so hard it almost tipped him over. “Get lost. Now!” The guy just sulks away, and Calum turns to you. “Sorry I’m late, babe.” He pulls you in for an obviously showy kiss, just to let everyone know that you’re his.
Luke: “No Mom! My band is a real job! I make real money, for crying out loud! Why don’t you just accept it okay? I’m not going to college!” Luke throws his phone on the bed beside you and crashes down beside it. “She doesn’t understand! She never will! MUSIC IS MY LIFE! Just because she’s a teacher, she thinks what I do isn’t legitimate! UGH!” That illusive vein in his neck is pulsing, the one that shows when he’s angry. Which is almost never. You kinda like seeing him heated like this because it reminds you that he can be aggressive. You lay down beside him, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s ok. Everybody goes through this with their parents.” “I know. It just makes me mad.” “I noticed.” You lean down and kiss him softly. “What was that for?” ”I like it when you get mad.” “You’re terrible.” He smirks at you and pulls you beside him.
Michael: ”Damn it all! Where did you put my Blink 182 t-shirt? I swear you hide it from me!” You look at him surprised. He usually doesn’t yell, especially about a t-shirt. “I do not hide it! Although, I should, considering it’s like 10 fucking years old!” He stomps over to you and throws open the dryer. “Well why does it disappear every time you do laundry then?” He stares at you furious, but you can’t help but notice how hot he looks when he’s mad. “Maybe I hid it because I didn’t want you to wear a shirt…” He opens his mouth to retort, but realizes what you said and narrows his eyes. “Is this your attempt at changing the subject?” You saunter over towards him and run your hands up under the hem of his shirt and around his waist. “Maybe…”
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