Fake Love || Cashton

2: #CASHTONISREAL.

Calum's POV:

The next morning, I woke up with my phone ringing. I reached over and answered it.

Italics: Calum
Bold Italics: Management

"Hello?"

"I need you and Ashton over here RIGHT NOW."

"What the fuck? Why?"

"I'll explain once you get here."

"Who was that?" Ashton asked, running his hand through his messy curls.

"Management, they want us to go over to the office immediately," I told him. Ashton shot up with wide eyes. "They didn't tell me what happened. They said they'll explain once we get there."

We both got changed into some sweat pants and a hoodie, since we were both way too lazy to look put together. Plus, my ass is way too fucking sore from last night to spent 30 minutes trying to wiggle into some tight jeans. I slowly waddled behind Ashton as he led me into the car.

"Stop laughing, you ass! You were a little too rough last night," I told him wincing every now and then.

"Aw, I went too rough on my puppy," Ashton cooed. He carried me bridal style all the way to the car and sat me down in the passengers seat. On the way to the Management's office, my phone kept blowing up. When I opened my phone, all of my mentions on Twitter were filled with pictures of Ashton and I kissing with the hashtag- #CASHTONISREAL.

"Ashton, remember last night when I told you that I saw a flash going off. Then you told me that I was hallucinating?" I mumbled over the radio.

"Yeah, what about it?" Ashton replied.

"Well, I think I know why Management is pissed." I showed Ashton my Twitter blowing up at a red light. He cussed.

"Fuck! Everybody knows that we're a thing now! Fucking fuck, fuck!" He cussed, clearly pissed, scared, and anxious. Ashton almost never swore. Only if he's scared, pissed, or super fucking excited. We parked into the parking lot of our record label, we both anxiously walked in, mentally preparing ourselves for what's about to happen.