5sos imagines

Struggling artists *part 2*

Calum ( Struggling photographer)

"I'm home." I yelled as I shut the door. I looked around.

"Calum?" I shouted.

"In here." He yelled from the kitchen. I walked in to see his head in his hands as he sat at the kitchen table, the laptop sat in front of him.

"What's wrong, babe?" I asked, putting my arms over his shoulders and running my hands down his torso.

"They cut my camera budget." He muttered.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means that I now have to pay for all my film and camera equipment out of my own money, which I can't afford." He sighed.

"What?! Surely they can't do that." I scoffed.

"They can, and they have." He mumbled.

"Why did they cut it?" I asked.

"My contract states that if I don't sell a photo in two years, the company has the legal rights to cut my budget." he spoke.

"But you did sell a photo, the one of me that you took last month..." my voice trailed off as Calum sighed and moved my hands.

"What are you not telling me?" I asked. He rubbed his hands over his face as he stood from the chair.

"I'm sorry..." he mumbled as he turned his back to me.

"Calum, what are you not telling me?" I demanded. He whipped around.

"The buyer backed out. He said that he changed his mind, so the cheque never came through." He sighed. I just stared at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. He walked up to me and gently took my face in his hands.

"Because I knew that you would worry and I didn't want that." He spoke, gently kissing my nose.

"But Calum...that was enough income for two months, if we don't have that money, we're going to have to do something." I sighed.

"Don't worry, baby, it'll be okay." He smiled gently before kissing me.

Luke (Struggling artist)

"You had a good date?" Luke asked as we drove down our street.

"The best." I smiled. He returned it as we pulled into the drive. Luke's smile quickly disappeared.

"What the..." he muttered as he quickly got out of the car and ran towards the house. That's when I noticed. The front door was open. I quickly got out of the car and rushed into the house. I turned on the light to see Luke practically running over the broken glass to get to the studio. I analysed the damage in the living room, the broken ornaments all over the floor.

"Shit!" Luke yelled. I rushed into the studio to see it completely trashed and Luke holding his hands behind his head. I looked at the damage. Several of Luke's paintings now had holes in them and most of his supplies were gone.

"No, no, no." he muttered as he started to frantically move canvases about.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"The painting of you. It's gone. The fucker must have taken it." He muttered. I sighed.

"Baby, as much as I loved that painting, I'm sure you can replicate it, it's not a big deal-."

"No, Y/N, you don't get it." He cut in sharply.

"What don't I get?" I scoffed. He sighed and looked down.

"I had a buyer, who was offering a lot for the painting." He admitted. My eyes widened.

"How much is a lot?" I asked.

"Enough to see us through for at least a few months, as well as enough for me to buy you that engagement ring." He muttered. I covered my mouth in shock. He sighed as he walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, causing me to wrap mine around his neck.

"It'll be okay, babe. I'll tell the buyer that the painting was stolen, and we'll call the police." He muttered into my neck, making me nod.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." I whispered, pecking his lips before resting my head on his shoulder.

Michael (Struggling musician)

I stood backstage in the bar where Michael had just performed his first gig. I looked around, trying to see him. Suddenly, he stormed out of one of the doors with another guy and starting arguing with him. My eyebrows knotted in confusion as I tried to read their lips, but I couldn't make out what was being said. After a minute, the other guy stormed off and Michael rubbed his hands over his face before noticing me. He sighed as he walked over to me.

"Hey, babe." He smiled as he kissed me.

"Hey. What was that all about?" I asked.

"What was what all about?" he asked.

"Mikey, I literally just witnessed that whole thing, tell me what's going on." I demanded. He sighed.

"The owner of the bar said that not enough people turned up to my gig, so he doesn't have enough money to pay me." He explained. My eyes widened.

"He can't do that!" I exclaimed, making him sigh.

"Well, he just has, so..." he muttered.

"Aww, Mikey. I'm sorry. You'll get your shot one day." I spoke, wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands found my waist.

"Thanks, baby. Can we please just go home?" he asked, talking into my hair.

"Sure. Let's go." I nodded, giving him a small smile before taking his hand and walking out of the bar.

Ashton (Struggling writer)

"No, no, no!" I opened my eyes as I heard Ashton yelling from the kitchen. I climbed out of bed and padded along to see him sat in front of the laptop.

"Fuck!" he yelled.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"What does this look like to you?" he asked, turning the laptop around to reveal a blank page.

"It looks like a new document." I spoke, not entirely sure where this was going.

"Exactly. This new document used to be half my book." He muttered. My eyes widened.

"Are you kidding?" I asked.

"I wish." He mumbled, clicking random buttons.

"What happened to it?" I questioned.

"Good question, unfortunately, I don't have the answer." He sighed.

"Well, I'm sure you can re-write it or something, you write all of it down by hand, don't you?" I asked.

"That's not the point, Y/N." he spat.

"Woah, okay, let's calm down, I'm not the enemy here." I spoke. He sighed.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just..." he stopped himself.

"Just what, Ash?" I asked.

"A publisher wanted to look at my work. He was going to come tomorrow morning, but there's no way I can re-type everything that I lost by morning, even if I worked through the night." He explained, rubbing his hand over his stubble.

"Just reschedule." I shrugged.

"I can't, this guy is really busy. And this was my one shot." He mumbled. I sighed as I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry, baby." I muttered as his hands moved through my hair.

"Next time." He mumbled.