Proxy [l.h]

1. The White Picket Fence and the Girl I Love

«DAY 1»

Luke

"At least I get girls," Michael had said to me as we walked down the hotel lobby. "I'm not hung up on some imaginary tramp from two years ago, waiting for the white picket fence."

My entire body tensed. And with clenched fists, I asked my former best friend: "What did you say?"

"Jane," he replied. "She's not real."

+

"Get off of him!" I hear Ben shout in the distance, but it makes everything worse on Michael's end. My blood boiling, I flex my arm and swing again, hitting the bastard over and over. Pinned beneath me on the marble ground, he can't do anything but take the hits. Blood spurts from Michael's nose and trickles into his gaping mouth. His lip busts open next. I can't stop now. I want to bash his head in. I want him hurt. I want him gone.

We're suddenly interrupted when Ben grips my arm and separates my fist from Michael's face with all his might. Calum and Ashton rush to Michael and each take an arm, preventing further damage. The two of us, still blinded by rage, fight and scream, arms reaching towards each other. Finally, Ashton gives Michael a strong, forceful tug and I see the fight in him dissipate, knowing he doesn't stand a chance against the older boy. It's all I can see as Ben starts to drag me away, down the hallway of the hotel.

"This isn't over, breadstick," Michael screams behind me, and I turn around to catch the sight of him spitting blood at the ground.

Once we're out of the lobby, Ben lets go of me and gives me a harsh shove. I catch my balance before I slam into the wall, and glare at him with malice.

"If I catch you two fighting one more time, there will be serious consequences," my publicist says. "Now clean yourself off and get your fucking ass to the common room."

I don't bother to ask. I know why.

Because she's here- the girl that's replacing Amber.

I'd hated the brat for the longest time, for leaving. Amber could just fly off whenever she wanted a break from the cameras because she wasn't a bandie, but I would always be stuck in this shithole. Here, to prevent even the slightest thought of escape, there were guards and an annoying publicist to keep me in check. So while Amber ran away (possibly to Puerto Rico, Brazil, or even Hollywood) here Ben was, bringing in some fake girlfriend that looked like my other fake girlfriend. To put it simply, I wasn't exactly thrilled.

Lissa

It's almost eleven PM when I arrive in London. I'd been with my brother all day and had accidentally missed my flight, which was supposed to take off five hours ago. I'd caught the very next one, but I'm still hours late getting to the hotel. I just hope no one would fire me for this.

As I wait in the common room at the elaborate London hotel, I nervously recite my knowledge of the pop star I'd memorized from the Internet. His name is Luke Hemmings, age 19. 1.93 metres tall, Australian, and also known as 'Breadstick'. His favourite restaurant is Nandos and he has a dog and two brothers. His favourite animal is a penguin. He's said that his ideal date would be to go to the beach and then Cold Rock. He tweets about farts. With the knowledge I've gathered, I can assume he's probably the sweetest and the most adorably clumsy pop star I'll ever meet. I just hope he's good company, because we'll be travelling together for a long time - the band's tour plan lists Canada in two days, Spain in seven, and Japan right afterwards.