Ashton

"Hola! I would just like to report that it has been 48 hours since I've pooped, nobody here has talked to me or tagged me in the photos, BUT ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, I haven't set anything on fire. Yet."

I smiled at Sam's text.

"Talk slower, Ashton. Please, I can't keep up." My dad grumbled, swatting the flies from the patties on the smoking grill.

I sipped on my second cold beer. A ladybug was chilling on my black jeans and I could picture Sam's giddy shrill if she was here to witness it.

"Yurik! I think the dog has diarrhea. I can smell it from the kitchen!" My mom shouted out the window for all the neighbors to hear.

I burst out laughing at my dad's dry expression. "It's not shit, mom. It's dad's burgers."

"I'm sorry, is this my burger?" He pointed at the patties Sam bought for him. "When have you seen me eat vegan meat?"

"Oh, come on. I've had it before, it tastes the same." A total lie, I'd never touch that. "It's better for you, dad. You don't need more cholesterol. If that belly gets any bigger, I'm going to start calling you Santa."

My phone buzzed again. It was a picture from Sam with Cara and Luka by the pool in Joshua Tree. They went to an influencer event, which I could not (and didn't want to) go to.

"Is it Luka?" My nosy dad asked.

"Miss you, guys (except Cara). Sorry I can't be there because of work."

I zoomed in on Sam's pink bikini top, wishing to run my tongue right in between those squeezed boobies. Ugh, and grab the shit out of them. Shove my face in there and just⁠—

"...what if something happens to him?" he finished a lecture I was too distracted to listen to.

"Huh?"

"I said, why aren't you there, keeping an eye on him?"

"Who, Luka?" I smacked my lips. "Would you relax, he's not a kid anymore."

"You're just saying that so you can go bartend tonight. But when something happens to him, don't blame yourself⁠—"

"No, why would I? That's your job. You blame me enough already."

"Here we go..." He mockingly raised his brows like I was being dramatic.

"Here we go." I mimicked sarcastically. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You're so bad at communicating, dad. The worst part is that you're too stubborn to admit it."

"Yeah, okay. It's easy to give advice on parenting when you don't have experience⁠—"

"Don't have experience?" I paused for him to take it back, but of course he didn't. "I'm sorry, who's been taking care of Luka since he was six?"

"Okay, okay. Don't start, Jesus. We asked you to do one⁠—"

I stood up abruptly to walk away, otherwise I'd break the beer bottle or punch the bar counter.

"Again you're losing your temper," he sighed. "Ashton, it's impossible to talk to you⁠—"

"Then don't talk. This is why I don't come over." I stormed off to go inside and say bye to mom.

Another text message from Sam made me pause.

"Don't worry at all! You're allowed to prioritize and do what's best for you. I completely understand. You're amazing, Ashton. And I appreciate you. Can't wait until we come home."

Why couldn't my dad say something like this once in a while?

I said goodbye to mom, and unlocked my car to get inside.

"So you're still not going to join him?" My dad leaned on the hood of my car.

"No." I kept my gaze on the steering wheel, not comfortable that I had to look up at him.

"Do you hate meee?" He sang, I'm guessing to lighten the mood, but it only pissed me off more.

What would Sam do if she were in my shoes right now? I tried to calm my breathing, thinking of her. If she were in the passenger seat, she'd probably take my hand with a worried look.

Because she cared. She understood. All her life she'd also been invalidated.

"I don't hate you, dad. But honestly, I'm not going to talk to my kids like you talk to me."

A rare kind of surprise and hurt softened his wrinkled eyes.

"You constantly put me down. I know you have high expectations, and that me being a bartender isn't what you had in mind, but you either have to accept it or stop mentioning it so much. This is my choice. I'm grown up now. I took care of Luka while you and mom were gone, and you guys don't know half the shit I had to deal with on my own. I was also a kid. I never complained once. Maybe that's why I complain so much now."

"You know if we had any other choice, we wouldn't have asked you to give up everything and stay home," he murmured softly. "We barely made enough to feed you⁠—"

"I know. I know, dad. That's why I never complained." I rubbed my eyes, head down. "I just wanted you to be there emotionally. Just once in a while. Say good job or I'm proud of you."

He clicked his tongue embarrassedly. "You know I don't do stuff like that..."

"Well, you should. Otherwise, you can keep making excuses. Or you can put actual effort and improve our relationship. It's up to you." I turned the engine and air conditioner on.

~

Four hours later, I was speeding toward the red landscape. Bristled trees with spiky leaves and white flowers coated the desert. A glass mansion sparkled under the clear sky with crowded cabanas and a pool full of animal floats.

I pulled into a driveway with sports cars no one under twenty should've been able to afford.

"Hey, mommy..." A girl on her phone got out of a red Corvette behind me. "Ugh, I'm okaaay. I'm surviving."

"YOOO, THAT'S FIRE!" A group of shirtless guys with bird-nest hairstyles hollered, filming a dumb sucker with clothespins on his face. "EY, LET'S CLIP YOUR BALLS! IT'LL BE SO FUNNY!"

"Shake it, chickens, shake it! Cluck, cluck, cluck!" A drunk girl who was definitely teenage filmed her twerking friends in bikinis, with giant chicken heads on.

"WATCH OUT!"

A drone flew into my face.

Thank God I ducked in time, missing it by an inch.

"Oh my God, Ashton, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Luka ran up and heaved, leaning on his knees. He waved the remote control. "Man, I was just trying to say hi, not knock you out. I'm still learning how to use it. It's cool though, right? Hey, can you get me one for my birthday⁠—"

"Did you drink?" I studied his more than normal excitement. He was acting like he had overdosed on sugar and caffeine. Neither of which were good for him.

"No, of course not! I have to keep an eye on Sam and Cara, come on. I wouldn't do that."

"Where are they?" I searched through the people partying around us.

"Upstairs, come on, I'll give you a tour!" He threw his arms around me in a hug. "I'm so glad you're here, Sam was really struggling to network. But it's not her fault, people are just choosing to interact with those who are already famous, you know? It sucks, but I'm really not surprised."

"OH my Frappuccino, aren't you that cute-cute dancer from TikTok?" The girl who was suffering earlier eyed Luka with a knowing smile, wrist bent back with long acrylic nails.

"Uh, yeah." Luka rubbed the back of his neck.

She squealed like a jungle bird and bounce-jogged toward him, tits stiff like concrete balloons.

"EEEE, CAN I GET A HUG—"

I threw my arm around Luka's shoulders and pulled him back before she made any contact.

"Sorry!" Luka apologized over his shoulder as I took him toward the house.

"I hate this place."

"Why'd you come?" He giggled, poking my cheek. "Oooh, are you here to see your girlfriend?"

"Says the guy who wants her best friend." I teased back.

"Shut up, no I don't!" He tried to get away, but I squeezed his neck. "Okay, okay!"

"You're off your meds, Luka. Aren't you? I know you, fucker. I know you too well. Why aren't you taking them?"

He was taking short, shallow breaths. Eyes glossed and a little delirious. His words came out rushed and shaky. Oversensitive, hyperactive, easily triggered.

"This is the worst fucking place to skip your meds—"

"I thought I was doing better..."

"Buddy, you ARE better. Look at how far you've come. Don't ruin all that progress for crap like this."

"It's not for this..." He scratched his nose, something he did when he was too embarrassed to admit something.

"Come on, Cara is best friends with Sam. She knows Sam has problems, I'm sure Sam would be on meds too if she could afford them. Besides, Cara might be mean, but she's not the type of person to ever put you down for something like that, Luka. She's not like these people."

"I think she hates me, Ash..." He mumbled.

I pinched his cheek so hard he winced. "Nobody can hate you. Just be yourself, I'm sure she'll come around. Don't give up, haven't you learned anything from me?"

We walked up the short stairs and opened the ridiculously heavy door built for giraffes.

The black hallway had museum-style artwork on the walls, backlit with LED light. A grand piano and a tufted leather couch stretched in the living room. The kitchen was black like the rest of the house, with wine glasses and copper details hanging over a stretching island.

Now imagine this, but with beer bottles, soda cans and pizza boxes everywhere. Overfilled white trash bags were left on the wooden floors. Someone's chihuaua was taking a dump on a tiger-fur carpet. Half-naked college students were playing beer pong on a mahogany dining table.

"Oh my fucking God..." I curled my lip. "I hope the owner sues whoever rented this place."

"Right?" Luka led me up the stairs, where a bunch of people were splayed under the sunroof, looking high on acid.

"Yeah, we're leaving this place. Where the fuck is Sam?"

"Easy, tiger!" Luka had a secretive smirk. He knocked on the first bedroom door. "Sam?"

"Come in!"

"Move." I put my palm on the side of his face and shoved him away, opening the door myself.

Sam stood in a silky milk dress, next to a window with sunlight behind her hair. The petal-soft fabric shimmered on her curves, draping loose on her breasts and ending at the knees.

She looked like a bride. A perfect, angelic, sexy goddess.

"Heeey!" Luka laughed over my shoulder. "Look who's—"

I shut the door on his face.

"Ashton!" Sam chided, her doe-eyes sparkling and her laugh sweet like honey.

"Fucking hell, Sam. What are you doing to me?"

"What?" Her voice became quiet. "What do you mean?"

My laugh came out breathless. I still couldn't look away. This girl was insane. How was I going to get it through her head?

"Come here. You—" I lurched forward and grabbed her face—

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Romeo, but I'm right here." CARA, that annoying emo bat was lying on the bed behind Sam this whole time. She waved at my glaring expression. "Hello."

"Get out."

"Don't be rude." Sam chided, but her face was glowing .

"Out." I walked toward Cara and firmly, but gently took her wrist, pushing her off the bed.

"Are you nuts?!" She protested as I opened the door where Luka was standing and kicked both of them out.

I locked the doors. Turned to Sam. Her eyes were wide and excited as I approached again.

"Now, where were we..." I smiled and cupped her face.

"You're going to ruin my lipstick—" She whispered against my lips and moaned weakly when I kissed her.

It was all the encouragement I needed.

My chest was going to explode. I put everything into that kiss, so that she'd know how much I needed her, how badly I wanted her, and how there was nothing she could do to change my mind about it.

Her breathing became faster, and I kissed down her neck, not stopping for a moment. My fingers moved with a mind of their own, slipping the little straps of her dress. She squirmed, tried to cover her nude strapless bra. I grabbed her wrists and held them behind her back. Her knees buckled in response, making me smirk against her skin.

"In case it wasn't clear, you're mine and I can do whatever I want with you."

She laughed out of breath. I used her distraction to lower one of the bra cups and squeezed her breast, groaning at the little pink nipple begging for my mouth.

"Oh my God, what are we doing..." She tried to argue, then let out a defeated whimper when I swiped my tongue and sucked on her nipple. Another pleading moan. "Don't..."

"Why? Are you embarrassed? Are you—"

I frowned at my hand touching an unexpected padded material around her hips.

"Uh..." She chuckled, adjusting her dress back.

"What's that?" I asked as she backed away.

"Nothing." She looked everywhere, but at me.

"What is that?" I came forward and poked my fingers into the spongy cushions.

"It's a hip pad, okay? I have hip dips so I look like a twelve-year-old boy in dresses like this. And I suck at Photoshop, not to mention everyone is taking pictures and videos, so even if I did edit my photos, they'd see it on other people's feed. You know how embarrassing that would be?"

"Why the hell are you wearing hip pads? You don't need them."

"Like I said, I have no hips—"

"Take them off."

"Ashton?" She smiled like I was too dumb to understand. "I won't. Look. Good."

"Take. It. Off." I raised an eyebrow with warning. "Or I will."

Her voice came out small and defeated. "Please, don't. I won't feel comfortable, Ashton."

"You won't feel comfortable when your ass is sore either. Take it off or I'll do it myself and spank you until you can't sit, Samantha. Off. You don't need this shit. You don't need to prove anything. Okay? You're perfect. Fucking perfect. I don't know how you don't see it."

She sighed in exasperation, trying to pull away. "You don't understand—"

"Five."

"Ashton—"

"Four."

She glared. "I'm not going to—"

"Three."

"You can't threaten me!" She laughed weakly.

"Two."

She backed away. "It's not—"

"One—"

"YEAAAH, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Obnoxious whooping erupted outside.

~A/N~
Oops, did I tease you all? Ehehehehehehehehehehehehe

Sorry, folks. I wanted to focus on how WHIPPED poor sucker Ashton was in this chapter.