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The moment the pen touched the paper, the words flooded out and a rhythm began; it was as if Luke's hand had a mind of it's own, effortlessly moving from one side to the other as he poured his heart out, hoping this time Mia would respond. He had returned from California full of hope, only to find his mailbox full of nothing but bills, flyers and fan mail.
Mia,
How are you? I hope you're well. I don't know if you ignored my letter, or if you didn't know how to respond, but please give me something. Anything will do. I miss your smile, I miss your singing and I miss waking up to you every day. This is killing me, Mia, and I don't know how to fix this. I don't know what I have to do to make you realise that I love you, or that I can't bare not being with you, but I won't stop trying. I'll try harder. I'll give you everything and more. Just please, talk to me. I know we can fix this, I really want to make this work. I have to make this work. I just want us to be happy. I know we can be.
Love, Luke
He stopped writing, the familiar aching sensation surging through his hand as he read the letter over and over again, biting his lip and wondering whether the letter would even do anything. The first one clearly didn't, because Mia hadn't responded. Maybe she was truly done with Luke, and had no intention of getting back with him. The thought made Luke feel sick, and so he folded the letter and placed it into an envelope, scrawling her name and address on the front before sealing it. He wasn't going to give up. He couldn't let another relationship slip through his fingers.
Luke clutched the letter in his hands and stood from his couch, shrugging on a jacket and heading out of the apartment, not bothering to say goodbye to his roommate or manager, who were both unsurprised by Luke's lack of politeness. Luke didn't speak to anyone much these days, he couldn't stand to hold a conversation with anyone whilst he was so torn up over his relationship.
The rain was pouring down, but Luke was unbothered as he made his way to the nearest letterbox, a few blocks down. He chewed his bottom lip as he stood by the mail box, the rain soaking his hair, dripping down his face as he began to think. It had now been four weeks since Luke and Mia had broken up (or more accurately, since Mia had left Luke) and since then his days and nights had consisted of little sleep, many bottles of bourbon and countless drafts of letters and lyrics that had piled up in Luke's apartment.
Luke had always been a writer, ever since he learned to write the alphabet. From letters, journal entries and songs to simple things such as notes that he'd leave for his loved ones; writing was Luke's forte. He had always found comfort in writing. It served as a form of therapy, particularly after a break up. It was a way of coping for him. Some people would drink, or do drugs, but Luke just wrote.
It can't hurt to send another, right? Luke thought to himself. He had been stood by the mailbox for the past fifteen minutes, murmuring apologies to people passing by every time they bumped into him, despite it not being his fault. Luke had been apologising for a lot lately, guilt eating him alive. Technically, the break up wasn't even his fault, but of course, Luke didn't see it that way. Would the letter fix things? Luke hoped that there was a chance. He loved Mia, he would do anything to rectify their relationship. He had dated a total of four girls in his twenty-two years of living, starting from the age of fifteen. Luke was passionate about many things, and love was one of them. He devoted all of his energy into relationships, so it was questionable why none of them had worked out.
Mia Harris 317 Hayes Street Seattle, WA
Luke's fingers ran over his ex lover's name once more before pushing the letter into the letterbox with a sigh. This was the second letter Luke had sent to Mia (well, Alana, but Luke didn't know this) since they had broken up, both a week apart, and although it pained him, part of him knew he would not get a response to this letter, much like the first one. Nevertheless, Luke wouldn't give up. He couldn't give up on another relationship. Obviously he had tried to save his previous relationships, but Luke was determined to try harder this time. He didn't know how many more people there were in the world for him.
Of course, other factors came into consideration when looking at the problems he faced in relationships. The main one being his celebrity status, and the fact that everything he did and everyone he dated was known by everyone. Luke adored his job, and he knew how lucky he was, but sometimes he wished he had privacy. Every single one of Luke's relationships had been public from day one, and with Luke's constant busy schedule, he believed this was a problem for his love life. He never got to see any of the girls he dated, and that very fact was always used against him. Some people just couldn't cope with his fame, and other's took advantage of it; Luke hated his job for that. He hated that he couldn't just date like a normal person without this one factor influencing how the other person felt or behaved.
"Dude, you're in the way." A stranger said, tapping Luke on the shoulder. Luke snapped out of his thoughts and sighed before pushing the letter through the letter box, turning to the stranger. The man who had spoken to Luke gasped as he saw Luke's face. "Oh, sorry, man! Take as long as you want."
Luke fought the urge to scoff at the statement, ignoring the man completely before moving out of the way of the letter box. Then began his walk back home in the rain, much like Alana had two days prior. People would usually bombard Luke in the street once they recognised him, which is why he was usually driven everywhere and had a security guard with him in public places, but he had insisted that if anyone tried to follow him, he would fire them. Another problem with Luke was his arrogance and stubbornness, which often caused many arguments, not just with girlfriends, but with anyone.
In that very moment, Luke wanted to be alone. No guards, no drivers, no fans. Just him. He walked home more slowly than usual, wanting to take as much time before he had to return to his life full of calls, emails and schedules. There were very few moments in Luke's life when he truly got to be alone. He didn't enjoy being alone, in the relationship sense, but sometimes he needed moments to himself when he could just think and clear his mind, without schedules and meetings and travelling.
Luke didn't bother going back to his apartment after posting the letter. There was only one place he wanted to go, a place where he wouldn't be disturbed, a place where no one knew he'd be. After twenty minutes in the rain, Luke arrived at the studio (a place that felt very much like a second home to Luke). He greeted the security and showed them his I.D before heading up to the floor he usually spent his time in, asking the management to not let anyone in unless it was urgent, and to not tell anyone where he was if they asked.
He sat at the desk chair for a long time, staring at his reflection in the glass window separating him from the recording area, trying to form lyrics in his head whilst thinking about Mia. The more he thought, about their relationship and their problems and how heartbroken he was, the lyric formed effortlessly, as if it was there all along and Luke just needed to uncover it.
