Luke Hemmings One Shots

Some kind of Cinderella shit (Part 2)

To what extend could your own brain trick you into thinking everybody was looking at you whenever you walked by?

Was it paranoid of you to think so? Or were you an attention seeker deep down? Unlikely.

So maybe people were actually giving you weird looks.

Looks that said "Who is this chick?" "Never seen her before." "How long has she been around?" "Do you know her Tiffany? You know everyone!"

But Tiffany didn't know you, because so far you've been basically invisible. You were content with it until recently, when you met a boy in a bar, and then again in the library, only to realize he didn't recognize you. In that moment you wondered what it would have felt like to be normal. No wait, 'normal' was too sketchy of a concept, let's say you were an average person, with a group of friends, and enough self-confidence to wear heels in public once a week. Yeah, average.

So let's say you weren't a little mouse afraid of the spotlights. Would Luke have recognized you? Maybe he would have fallen to his knees in awe before you?

A girl can dream.

Regardless of your existential questions, he was persevering enough to tag along long enough for you to turn yourself in, thus admitting you were the girl from the bar. And despite loving the fact that Luke had manage to see you while you were non-existent to everybody else, this sudden attention drew to you was something you weren't handling well.

"(Y/N) you look different," your childhood friend Michael told you when you met him at the coffee shop down the street.

"Hello to you too," you said ironically. "You still look the same – expect for the hair of course," you smiled. You hugged him warmly for you hadn't seen him in a long time. "Missed you much."

"Missed you more, dummy," he laughed, letting you sit down on the chair next to him.

"Green suits you," you pointed to his hair. "Kinda like it better than red. It was too mundane for you."

"Yeah thanks," he smiled. "I'm almost used to the stares I get by now." Michael laughed, gesturing to the barista that he wanted to two coffees.

You sighed, "Tell me about it!"

It drew his attention back to you. "What do you mean?"

"I don't normally pay attention to this, you know me, but... Recently I feel like people have been watching me?" You phrased it like a question. "I don't know maybe I'm just imagining it, but it's creeping me out."

"Did you wear something special? Low cleavage maybe?" He wondered.

You rolled your eyes.

"What?" Michael asked. "You clean up pretty good you know? Unlike some people I know what you look like without you baggy black clothes."

You quickly mumbled a little 'whatever' before changing the subject. Michael and you were history. You've always been really good friends, and when hormones came along in sophomore year, you took each other's virginity. After that you hooked up a couple times and then decided that it would be better to stop doing so in order to keep being friends. It worked out surprisingly well.

"Did you get a haircut?" Michael asked out of the blue just when you were telling him about your dorm mate always bringing boys over.

"No," you took a strand of your own hair to look at it, but you didn't see anything weird.

Michael seem to think for a bit and then his face lit up.

"The makeup! You changed your makeup!" He guessed.