Princesses Don't Wear Converse

Princess Constance of England had an extravagant life and hated it. She hated spending four hundred dollars on a shirt when she could spend four dollars at a department store. She hated all the glitz and glam. She just wanted to be normal. That was exactly what Ashton Irwin could provide. Normality. If only she wasn't engaged to a prince...

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5. Chapter Five

Ashton’s P.O.V.

“Guys, that was awesome!” Calum shouted. He, along with the other boys, was jumping around like a crazed animals.

“I know, right? Did you see the cute red-head in the front?” Classic Mike.

“Yeah, dude, she was smoking,” Luke was screaming for no reason, it wasn’t really loud backstage.

“I can’t believe that was the end of the tour,” said Mike.

“Four months of freedom, baby!” Kylie, our stylist, ran in, skating on the ground in her socks. She stopped right in front of me. “You okay, bro?”

Everybody started crowding me and asking questions at the same time. “You do know I can’t hear any questions if you all keep talking at the same time, right?” I muttered.

Suddenly, everybody got super quiet. “Ash, is everything alright?” Luke asked quietly, sounding alarmed.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Now, what’s going on?” Mike demanded.

“Nothing, I swear!” I put my hands up in surrender.

“Ok, but if you want to talk, my door’s always open,” Calum whispered in my ear. I nodded and smiled gratefully. I was lucky to have such amazing friends. Ones that actually cared.

Luke grinned. “I think Ash over here is thinking about go solo again.”

That was a big joke since…forever. Apparently, I was sleep-talking on the bus and said, “Going solo? Why not?” They never stopped making fun of me with that.

Then Calum got down on his knees and started fake-crying. “Please, Ash, don’t leave us! Mikey sucks on drums! We swear we’ll give you another solo on the next album!”

Everybody burst out laughing, all except me. The truth was I did want to go solo, just a little bit. I know I wouldn’t be nearly as successful. I loved being in the band, I loved touring with my dearest friends and I loved being the drummer. But it never really felt like ‘5SOS’. More like ‘Luke Hemmings and His Band.’ I was sick of being his back-up performer. He was always in the middle and got the most solos.

But I couldn’t tell them that.

Everybody made their way to the back but I lagged behind. I was too tired to try and catch up to them.

Suddenly, a girl was running up behind me. At first, I thought it was a fan with a backstage pass. Then I saw five tall, brawny men in suits chasing her, along with a woman holding a huge black binder in one hand and typing vigorously on a BlackBerry with the other.

The girl’s black hat and brown wig flew off from her head to reveal much longer blond hair. She ran past me and jumped behind a red sofa. The men and lady came running up the hall.

“Where is she?!” one shouted at me.

I turned around and looked at the couch. She was shaking her head wildly.

“Uh, who?” I asked, trying to buy this girl some time.

One of the men stepped out of the group and pointed a small black handgun at me. “You know who!”

I gulped loudly and tried to get the lump in my throat to go down. The girl ran out from behind the couch and put her hands up in surrender. “Look, I’m here, don’t hurt anybody!”

The man gradually put down his gun while two other men came up and grabbed the girl by the arms. They pushed her forward. They were almost at the exit when she turned around.

“Thanks for trying to save my ass,” she smiled, “and you’re concert was awesome. You’re a great drummer.”

“Um, anytime, I-I think.” I was unsure of what to do or say. All I really wanted to know was who that girl was.

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