bleach • lrh (ON HOLD)

eleven - punching bag

— now —

the gym and the studio slowly became the only two rooms that sloane used. if she wasn't going through her set list with a few roadies so that they could figure out lighting cues, she was rehearsing her songs.

if she wasn't rehearsing or watching reverse the day rehearse, she was beating the shit out of a punching bag in the obnoxious house's home gym.

but throughout it all, the one thing that was a constant was that she was actively ignoring luke hemmings.

sure, he hadn't really tried to talk to her since the first day they had arrived, which was a little over a week and a half ago now, but he still constantly stared at her every time they ended up in the same room.

which was a lot. sloane really had to thank whatever higher power was out there for doing her that solid. not.

it was quite unnerving having his baby blues, which she used to adore, on her all the time, but she didn't let that show. if she ever accidentally happened to meet his unwavering gaze her face was cold, hard, void of any emotion, and she liked to keep it that way.

he didn't deserve an ounce of emotion from her anymore other than cool indifference. or anger, if she was so inclined.

which she currently was.

after a fairly tense meeting with layla, via zoom, marianna, 5sos, reverse the day and sloane in which luke did nothing but stare at her, sloane felt like she wanted to burn the world.

could he not have just, oh you know, focused on the important tour information being discussed in the meeting rather than her?

like, seriously dude, this tour is fucking huge, can you stop staring at the ex you apparently never loved so that the details can be ironed out?

stepping her right foot out in front of her left, sloane threw another jab at the punching bag before her, the satisfying thud of her flesh against the leather sounding around her.

instead of punching his pretty face like she had wanted to, she had come to the gym to work out her anger. unfortunately, even though she had arrived alone, her thorn in the side had followed close behind with loren in tow.

"coley, my love, my heart, please tell me you're not imagining my face on that punching bag." laying down on one of the weight benches in a singlet and some gym shorts, graham popped a dorito in his mouth.

apparently he had already gotten his workout in that morning. she didn't believe him.

plopping down on the floor beside his friend, loren snagged a dorito from the bag, he munched on it aimlessly as he watched sloane throw yet another hit at the bag while ignoring them both. "she's definitely imagining a face on there alright, but i would bet it's not yours."

"how much would you bet-" gray cut himself off when he noticed that he was now on the receiving end of sloane's glare, rather than the poor punch bag.

"i love you, i'm sorry. please don't punch my face."

"i'm not gonna punch you in the face." watching gray's shoulders fall in relief, sloane grinned manically. "i'll punch you in the dick."