daddy's girl ❥ luke hemmings ✔️

18. "faster, daddy"

LUKE

When she was younger, Sophie used to talk a lot in her sleep. I never knew why. Rachel never did either. It wasn't even like they were short sighs accompanied by a few quiet words- no. Most of the time they were whispers, long whispers that ensued before her eyes started watering and I'd have to shake her awake to pull her away from whatever demon decided to plague her that night.

Then I'd lie awake, waiting for her to fall asleep before I could even attempt to because my mind finds it hard to keep calm when I know hers isn't.

I'm in the small kitchen area of the hotel room now, at precisely 4:23am, making myself a cup of coffee because my head won't stop drawing conclusions and my fist keeps wanting to ram itself into Chase's face. Careful, Luke. I think to myself. Your inner psycho is showing.

Taking a small sip of the drink in my hand, I realize just how addicted to the stuff I actually am. I inhale at least seven cups a day and that can't be good.

Nevertheless, I stir the bitter mixture, mouth watering at the warm scent that I have somehow become immune to. It no longer stings my sense of smell, but instead leaves a cozy feeling at the back of my throat to replace the boiling liquid.

I place my spoon down, watching the whirlwind of steaming water spin around the rim of the cup before taking out my phone. I'm restless and although partly blind to the world of social media, I decide to check all of my accounts anyway.

Contrary to popular belief, a lot of people in the music industry don't really have any control over what goes on in regards to stuff like Instagram and Twitter. Management handle all that stuff for me and the guys, right up to what we post and who we message, even who we follow. I've just decided to leave them to it; after all, the contract I signed and really should have read did say that we were to do whatever they wanted. This meant staying out of the way while they shifted our lives into gear and played us like string puppets; I'm not dumb. I know this. The only problem is, I don't know how to get out of it.

Sadie says to hang in there until the contract's over. Ashton says that it's a small price to pay if we want to make a lot of people happy. I get where he's coming from but I don't think he fully understands that half of the fanbase aren't exactly our biggest fans (ironic) anymore. Not that I don't still love them all to pieces- I do, more than I could ever love myself. I just understand why people feel that way and it hurts me to know that I can't do anything about it without there being some consequence.

I look over the light of the kitchen island, smiling to myself once I see Sophie fast asleep in one of my shirts. During the night, she complained about her clothes being too uncomfortable, sleepily asking me to change them.

I was surprised, to say the least. The last time I helped her put any item of clothing on was when she was thirteen and couldn't work a tie. Then she became self aware, realized that she was growing older, and the requests stopped coming.

I guess it's a bit weird for me to say that I didn't exactly mind, but a lot of weird feelings have been surfacing lately so I don't think it's that big of a deal.

I just helped her out of her little dress, slipped a shirt over her head, kissed her goodnight on the cheek and tucked her into bed again. As for the intimates, she did that all on her own.

What a shame.

I frown, not wanting to have a repeat of the night before when all I was capable of was slapping myself across the face to temporarily clear my mind. The voice is like a leech, unable to leave me alone for more than a second, so a physical slap would surely do next to nothing.