Chapter 1: Premonition

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Ashton had gone to a party that night with a few friends, and wasn't quite sure why, but he felt odd. It was quite an odd feeling, and maybe it was just another one of his stupid premonitions, but Ashton had a feeling something great would happen that night, and as always, his gut feeling was right.

"Hey, Ashton, let's go." Michael, Ashton's best friend of four years says, as Ashton makes the final adjustment to his crown.

"Yeah, Michael, hang on." Ashton grumbles. He absolutely hated having premonitions, it was like his sixth sense, and it was irritating to have to feel this way for an entire night, or however long it took for one of these things to come true.

"Ashton, you had one of your 'visions', didn't you?" Michael laughed, as he fixed his bright, fire truck red hair in the mirror, which really wasn't fire truck red anymore, because it had faded into a very muted orange, but Ashton could care less because Michael dyed his hair many different colors all the time, so Ashton didn't feel the need to keep track.

"They're not visions, you oaf." Ashton corrected Michael, as he deemed his crown to be in the perfect place, and backed away from the mirror. "They're premonitions."

"Fine, whatever. Are you at least ready to go?" Michael asked, and Ashton shrugged.

"Do I seriously have to go?" Ashton asked, praying Michael would let him sit this one out. Ashton wasn't too fond of parties, he preferred staying home to watch Netflix, and get caught up on TV series, or just watching reruns of the same ones. He quite fancied Adventure Time, he fancied the show so much that his collection of crowns had now consisted of 6 flower crowns, 8 tiny plastic tiaras, 3 big princess crowns with big plastic gems, and a Princess Bubblegum tiara.

Sadly, most of Ashton's crowns were plastic, and when they weren't plastic they were made of flowers, or a cheap metal. Ashton didn't mind, he'd like them to be a little nicer in quality, but it didn't matter to him. He couldn't afford nicer crowns anyways, so the plastic, metal, and flower crowns would have to do.

"Yes, you have to go Ashton. I'm going to get you laid." Michael smirked, and Ashton rolled his eyes.

"Michael Clifford, there is no boy in the world that would want some random loser with a crown on." Ashton spoke, and Michael groaned.

"Not this speech again." He whined, and Ashton smacked his arm.

"I am sorry you will have to endure my 'I will be forever alone' speech once again Michael." Ashton apologized, as he began to recite the same speech that had been recited more than enough times before him, and Michael would go out.

"Michael Clifford, I will not get laid tonight, as nobody would really find my decision to wear crowns very attractive. I will even wear a nicer, flower crown, and it will still not get me laid. Nobody finds crowns appealing on guys, Michael, and I'm okay with that. However, I'm not stopping you from getting laid, please go ahead, but if you take the person back here, please be quiet. I'm not in the mood to be kept up at night, because I can't stop hearing loud moans coming from your room. Now can we just get this over with?"

With that, Michael shrugged, and he drug Ashton into their shared brown Chevy minivan, and they had this minivan because it was the only thing they could afford at the time, and when they could afford something a bit nicer, they couldn't bear to get rid of the ugly, but cute car, so instead they just upgraded the radio in it. Neither of them cared about the shitty gas mileage, or the fact that every time you opened the trunk to the damn car, you'd have to hold your breath, because at the used car dealership that they got the shitty thing from, something had died in the trunk.

Long story short, it was a big fiasco, but it happened to be the only car they could afford, and so they reluctantly bought it, thinking they could just upgrade as soon as one of them made it big in the music industry like they had always dreamed of since they were little. Now, when they were at least able to afford maybe a slightly better car, that had better gas mileage, and didn't smell like the grim reaper himself every time you opened up the trunk, they couldn't bear to get rid of the fucking thing, because of the stupid, but fun memories they both had shared in that van.

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