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Ashton learnt from a very young age that to be a man, you never cry. Those words were spoken to him from his biological father when he was three and one of his Hot Wheels cars had gotten lost.
The words were imprinted in his mind and told over and over again by his father when he’d abuse him. He didn’t cry when his dad slapped him for the first time and he didn’t cry when his dad purposely slammed his hand in the kitchen door resulting in three broken fingers.
He certainly didn’t cry when his father left once and for all.
Ashton’s mum cried a lot though. And he felt the need to protect her even at the age of five. He’d find her crying in the kitchen when he was supposed to be asleep, a half empty wine bottle next to her or hear her crying from his bedroom in the early hours of the morning.
But he never cried.
Then his mum stopped crying and she started smiling and spending time with him and they were both smiling and laughing as they made a cake and his mum didn’t even get angry when Ashton dropped the mixing bowl on the floor.
She sat him down that night and told him she met someone and she looked so happy that Ashton was happy too.
And this new guy seemed amazing, he taught Ashton how to play the drums and took him to the park and now he even had a little sister on the way. It was great.
And then it wasn’t so great.
His new dad stopped coming home before dinner and stopped taking Ashton to the park. He stopped showing Ashton new drum skills and his mum stopped smiling. So Ashton stopped too.
He didn’t cry when he saw his step-dad with another woman, he shouted at Ashton to leave him the fuck alone so Ashton ran up to his room and sat on his bed, trying to read the book he had borrowed from the school library.
He’d hear them from upstairs, his mum and step-dad screaming and shouting at one another, he heard a door slam and a few moments of silence before he heard the sound of his mum cry. Again.
He cautiously crept downstairs and saw her sitting on the floor with her back against the kitchen counter, one hand over her bump and the other on her face. He didn’t know what to do but he knew one thing.
Be a man, don’t cry and make his mum feel better.
When Ashton was beginning high school, his younger sister was now 6 and he even had a younger brother now as well. He was 3. There was another guy but the same deal happened and he was left to pick up the pieces of his mother once again but this time he had to take care of his siblings as well.
His mum wasn’t in the best shape. She had a 13, 6 and 3 year old, no stable job and no ‘man of the house’. She spent what little money they had on just enough food to get by on and the rest on alcohol. Ashton thought she was depressed, he’d learnt about that in health class but he didn’t dare ask.
Ashton would wake up every morning at 6 o’clock and then go to his sisters’ room to wake her up and then he’d go get his brother from his cot that he had outgrown and carry him down to the kitchen where he’d make toast and sandwiches for him and his sister. He’d send his sister upstairs after breakfast to get ready and he’d wash his brothers’ face and put him in some new clothes for the day and leaving him with his toys.
He’d check on his mother, she’d be asleep in her room or asleep in the bathroom depending on how bad the hangover was that morning.
It’s fine. He’s used to it.
When Ashton was 15, his mum committed suicide. He would be lying if he said he didn’t expect this to happen but in reality he knew it was a matter of time. He was sad, upset, of course he was. But he didn’t cry. He felt like he should but he couldn’t.
His brother didn’t cry, didn’t understand what was going on and not even having a proper mother-son relationship with her. His sister didn’t even cry, it came to his attention that they didn’t know their mother the way he did.
Ashton got special consideration at school after the principle found out and let all of his teachers aware of what had happened. They were living with their grandma who was the only relative in Sydney that was alive.
He was falling behind in his classes and had taken up spending his lunchtimes with his maths teacher to try and get him up to speed. Ashton had always felt something was off about his teacher but he didn’t voice these thoughts. He had no one to tell them too anyway.
The first lunchtime maths lesson was good. They got through nearly an entire chapter in one sitting and Ashton as proud as he left the classroom to go sit outside.
The second lunchtime, his teacher sat next to him instead of in front of him.
The third lunchtime, his teacher would rub his shoulders and back when he got a question right.
The fourth lunchtime, his teacher locked the door and didn’t open a textbook. Instead he walked closer to the 15 year old boy who was too skinny for his age and put a hand on
his shoulder. Ashton looked up at his teacher who was nearing the age of 50 and started mentally panicking. He didn’t say anything as his teacher started unbuckling his own belt and did the same to Ashton. He didn’t say anything as he was shoved onto his knees. He didn’t say anything as his maths teacher sexually assaulted him and he certainly didn’t cry when it turned into something more.
Ashton started self-harming as a way to cope with everything. He had no friends, he had no parents, his Grandma was becoming too old to take care of them and he was scared his siblings were going to be taken away. He was humiliated that he had done something so dirty with someone triple his age and felt disgusting in general. He could feel his hands all over his body. He wanted to cry, he should be crying he thought but he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried.
When he was 17, he joined a band and he was able to do something with his life. His new bandmates were hilarious and fucking talented, they could go far in life and Ashton wanted to join them.
Ashton’s grandma didn’t live with them anymore, she had to move into a nursing home and they had an auntie that was supposed to come stay with them but she never showed. It’s okay though. They coped.
He would drop his younger siblings off at school, with a small lunch because they couldn’t afford that much these days. The heat had been switched off a long time ago and the electricity was to be switched off in a few weeks. It’s fine though. They’re fine.
When Ashton was 18, the band really took off and they started touring with One Direction and he didn’t know what to do. No one knew about his home life, he kept it a secret and didn’t reveal anything about his past. His sister was old enough to look after their brother for a couple of hours while Ashton went to band practice. He’d walk the 40 minute walk to and from Michael’s house 3 or 4 times a week, small meals so his siblings would get the food they needed and all this contributed to his dangerously skinny frame.
Ashton should be bawling now. But he can’t. It’s like he’s frozen as he looks around the house in despair as he clutched a rumpled note that was on the front door. His brother must have mentioned something or maybe the neighbours did it but Child Protection Services came around and took his siblings to a foster home. He really should be crying, he can feel the tears in the back of his eyes but they wouldn’t fall.
He’s not fine anymore.
~
Ashton’s walking around Sydney late at night. All his bandmates were with their families and he said he was going as well but obviously he didn’t. He went back to his grandma’s house to find a new family living there so he just walked slowly out the front before turning down a different street.
He could afford a hotel room he supposes. He has more money now. But he feels like he shouldn’t be spending it. He was brought up to be grateful for everything and not take anything for granted. Right now, he was saving for the future that perhaps the band broke up, he could buy a house, find his siblings and live happily ever after.
He doesn’t know where he’s going anymore, he’s feeling nostalgic as he walks through the neighbourhoods he grew up in. His mind still felt like he was a teen but his body had changed. He wasn’t skin and bones anymore, he was still slim but now he had muscles and had filled out more.
They have a concert in Sydney in a few days. He’s thinking about the concert while he sits on a swing in an empty playground. He recognises it as the playground near Michael’s house and fuck had he really been walking that far from his house? His phone is going to die soon but he fishes it out of his pocket to check the time to find its 2am.
He wonders if Michael was awake. He knew the boy had trouble falling asleep, having a moderate case of insomnia plus he was probably a little jet lagged or playing video games.
Ashton bit his lip as he opened his messages and clicked on Michael’s. His finger is hovering over the letters before taking a breath and typing out a message to Michael.
He waited for a few minutes with no reply before standing up to walk around some more when his phone beeped.
From: Mike (Home)
What are ya doing up this late, mate?
To: Mike (Home)
I’m at the park near your house. Keep me company?
From: Mike (Home)
Yeah ‘course. See ya in a few mins
He sat back down on the swings and looked at the entrance for the blue haired boy to enter. 5 minutes later the gate creaked making Ashton’s head shoot up only to relax when he saw Michael using his phone as a torch in old basketball shorts and a hoodie.
Michael looked at Ashton with a small smile as he walked over and sat on the swing next to him.
“Why aren’t you with your fam?” Michael asked his voice loud in the silence around them. Ashton shrugged.
“Why you at the park then?” he tried again. He could tell that Ashton was clearly upset and sad.
“It’s calming” Ashton replied softly, kicking the tanbark with the toes of his converse.
“I’m sure your family want to see you, Ash” Michael said. Ashton laughed, shocking Michael.
“Bull fucking shit” Ashton replied after the bitter laugh. He should stop talking but he needed to vent. “You know why I’m at this fucking park? Because I don’t have a fucking family. I don’t have a fucking house here anymore. I haven’t since I was 18”
Michael was taken aback about how bitter Ashton was and the amount of swearing used in just a few sentences.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked softly. “You could have stayed with me, or Luke, or Calum. We wouldn’t mind”
“I don’t like interrupting other people’s family time” Ashton breathed out and grabbed hold of the chains of the swings, swinging softly. He could feel his chest ache and his eyes water. This hasn’t happened since he was a toddler. “I feel like I’m gonna cry. I haven’t cried since I was three”
“It’s okay to cry, Ash”
The first tear falls shocking both boys and then they keep falling and falling and now he’s hunched over sobbing like there’s no tomorrow.
“I want to die, Michael” Ashton cried “I want to fucking die”
“No you don’t” Michael was quick to object “You don’t mean that”
“I should have killed myself a long time ago. I hate it. I hate it so much. I still have nightmares from it. My body is so dirty” he sobbed. Michael reached over to put a hand on his back but Ashton jerked sharply away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me”
“Ashton, tell me what happened” Michael knew he was being insensitive by asking Ashton to tell him everything while he was in a vulnerable state.
“My dad always told me to never cry. I haven’t cried since I was 3. He abused me” Ashton took a shuddered gasp and wiped away tears as more followed. “I didn’t cry when he slapped me. Or when he’d kick me. Or when he slammed my fingers in the door and I broke 3 fingers. I was only 3 years old. I didn’t know. What did I do?
And then the next guy did the same thing but he gave me a baby sister and I miss her. I miss her so much. And then another guy came and I got a baby brother and I miss him too. I haven’t seen them for nearly 4 years now. I don’t know where they are. They got taken away by child’s services”
Ashton was a mess right now. His face is red and blotchy and he’s still crying. He’s kept everything in for so long and he’s bursting now. He can’t stop venting to Michael and he knows he’s gonna regret it the next day but he can’t stop.
“After my mum committed suicide when I was 15 we moved in with my grandma and then she got too old and moved to the nursing home and my aunt was supposed to move in with us but she never showed so it was just us 3 and I didn’t eat so they could and I had special consideration at school when they found out mum died. I had like catch up lessons of maths at lunch with my teacher and after a few lessons he started acting weird and then he, he” Ashton struggled to finish only to burst into a wave of fresh tears. Michael knew what he was going to say, wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear Ashton say it. “He got me on my knees and put his cock in my mouth and then he raped me in that classroom. I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry when any of this happened”
“Ashton” Michael really didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good at comforting people. He stood up and pulled Ashton gently by the hand so he could embrace him. Ashton seemed to sob harder at the contact but wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist regardless. “You need help, you need professional help. You’re obviously suffering”
“I know” Ashton cried, muffled from Michael’s hoodie.
~
Ashton stayed with Michael for the rest of their time in Sydney. His parents didn’t mind about him staying and didn’t say anything. Michael told them specifically not to ask why he’s not with family.
He spent the days inside Michael’s man cave, watching him play videogames as he curled up in one of Michael’s hoodies. They were comfy and they smelt like Michael which Ashton secretly liked, it was a calming smell.
On the day of the concert, Ashton stood side stage twirling a drumstick between his fingers. Playing on stage was one of the only times he felt like everything was okay. He didn’t have worried when he was on stage. He felt alive when he was on stage.
He played the songs he had come to memorise to the point he could play with his eyes shut and waited for the scheduled talking to the crowd times came around. He watched as Michael moved his guitar to behind his back which left him confused because Michael never did that when he spoke.
“Okay so Ashton probably doesn’t want you guys to know this” Michael started and Ashton nearly fell off his stool. What the fuck is Michael doing? “But he’s had a pretty rough upbringing and kept it a secret from the rest of us. I’m not gonna tell you anything except that his siblings were taken away and put in a foster home. He hasn’t seen them in about 4 years and he didn’t know where they went.”
Ashton’s heart was beating loudly and felt like it had moved up to his throat.
“Ashton, if you want to join us down here, that would be great” Calum announced. Ashton stood from his stool and shakily jumped off the platform. Luke grabbed his elbow and gently guided him to the middle microphone. Ashton was afraid to speak, he probably didn’t have a functional voice right now with his heart in his throat.
“Okay so I did some research and these guys helped me. It took a lot of convincing and maybe some bribery but we did it. Guys, come on out” Michael made a gesture to backstage and the crowd screamed as 2 people ran on stage towards Ashton.
“Oh my god” Ashton brought his hands over his face as he felt the tears come. He could cry freely now. His sister reached him first, he held her tightly as she hugged him back just as tightly. He could feel another body attach to the side of his body so he moved one arm to hold his brother. His hands wandered over their backs trying to hold them as close to him as possible. He could still hear the crowd but it sounded distant. He wasn’t aware of how long he was there but it wasn’t long enough.
He finds himself at the cemetery long after the concert is over. He knew his mother had a grave but she didn’t have a funeral. Her tombstone was empty, void of flowers and toys that all the other graves around it had. Ashton didn’t feel guilty about not visiting her nor did he feel bad that the flowers he had put down were picked from the sidewalk.
“I’m getting help now” he commented as he looked at the grave. “PTSD and depression and all that shit. They were afraid I was gonna off myself or something. Especially Michael. Cause I told him I wanted to die when I had a breakdown. I’m okay though, saw the youngins’ and everyone cried. I learnt that it’s okay to cry. I don’t know when I’ll visit you again.
Ashton sniffed.
“I’ve cried so often in the past week” Ashton sniffed “Michael always says it’s good to have a cry once in a while. I’m gonna take his word for it. I gotta go now, going to LA and stuff. Bye for now”