FIFTH HALF ― luke hemmings ✓

#16

I didn't know how but I found myself all lost in the sea of thoughts, a basket I found lying elsewhere filled with bottles of beer as I sat at the very top of their house. All the familiar trees I used to spot from this high, and the moon already in view, bringing me back to the simpler times. Those that reminds me of when I was a bubbly kid and Luke was once the energetic yet very awkward one in the band. The times where we never ran out of stories to tell, never ran out of things to say, and never thought that in the near future, I'd be dreading not to see him everyday.

After Liz said those words, I hadn't got a chance to counter it nor say my opinion about it as she had guests to entertain and I have thoughts to keep myself. What she said? It was damn near impossible. Luke... Luke never loved me. Luke loved Cassie, he loved my best friend behind my back. Both my best friend... left me in a battlefield with nothing but a fragile heart. Luke disappeared, Luke never tried to tell me how he feels for the longest time I met him, and Luke? Luke is oblivious as a fucking rock.

I don't feel sorry for not believing them. He had never loved me more than I did, but it shouldn't have hurted me that way if he hadn't gone and kissed me that night like he just tested a possible theory. It felt like the world is playing a fucking joke on me. Of when I'm already contempt on leaving, shit hits the fan and all went in scrambles. I wished he didn't go on and tried to fix us. In that way, I could pretend nothing happened and leave peacefully.

If only he did.

"Remember when we used to sit here when we were young? When we act like assholes and throw rocks at our swimming pool, knowing damn well Mom would find out and give us endless lectures?" A voice spoke softly behind me and the familiarity hit me in the face. My feet dangling by the end of the roof, I turned with a beer at hand and found Luke sitting by the window, a new blue cup by his hands as he does.

"Yeah, I remember." I quietly mumbled. Not knowing if I should just turn around and leave or make him. This was supposed to be my time to think, but that was apparently impossible if I'm actually at their house.

"Where we used to fight where the Big Dipper is?" He chuckled to himself. He didn't seem drunk though, just chirpy. Like he's himself again. Talkative and full of jokes. "I still don't have a clue where it is."

"You said you do." I retorted while I look ahead the sky and found no Big Dipper like before.

"I just like arguing with ya." I turned, a scowl painted on my face. "It makes you so red, but I like it when you calm down when I offer you strawberry ice cream." My forehead eased and I looked away, the feeling in my heart creeping up once again. It's like... getting pushed and pulled away, not knowing whether I like to drown in the black hole of his entirety, or run away with nothing but my bare feet on a road full of broken glass. Either or? It'll hurt. "I'm sorry about my brothers. And maybe my Mom if she ever said something."

I huff. "That's alright." I laid my third empty bottle of beer upside down on the basket and grabbed one, turning to offer to him but he shook his head. "Healthy living?" I quipped.

"You could say that." He pointed, taking a drink at his blue cup. "Been drinking root beer for the whole day."

"Suit yourself." I shrugged, downing my fourth bottle and leaning backwards on the jagged roof. Taking a swig while I indulge myself with silence. It may have been the beers, or because I promised to be civil, the way I'm okay with having him around.

"I—uh, recorded a new song. Just at my room but, do you wanna hear?" He says carefully behind me as if he knew I'll burst any moment now, but I turned and stared him down. Assessing to myself if I really wanted him to be here—but the beers clouded over my judgement and I nod. "Really?"

"Don't make me change my mind." I inclined my head and he rolled his eyes with the familiar smile on his face as he made his way beside me. It took me years back, that damn smile. It felt like time traveled back two years when we last sat here, when we talked about what countries we'll be heading to into tour, of what we'll buy at which country for Petunia and for my 'boring' apartment as he called for having zero decorations. I... I missed it so much it almost started to hurt again.

"Here, this is just a draft." He placed his phone right by his lap, handing me one of the ear pods while I hesitantly wore it over my ear and took a large needed swig.

A guitar started on the pods and what followed was Luke's voice, like I hadn't heard it this... raw before. "So I drown it out like I always do. Dancing through our house with the ghost of you..." It continued to play like a real draft, missing bits of chords in the instrumental as my inner writer went through, but as I was taking another swig, a notification stopped the song briefly and I didn't need a 20/20 vision to know who it was from.

Hastily, I took out the earpods and cleared my throat. "It's a really good song." Why do I always keep on forgetting about them? About how Luke, who never gets tired trying to fix his shit, is still with the same girl who he said he hadn't felt such way? "Just a bit of tweaking and it'll be good."

"Lacey, it's not what you think it is." I scowled.

"I wasn't asking, nor do I care about your relationship with her." I slammed the bottle back and opened the other one, downing it and feeling the roughness of the beer going down with a trace on my throat.

"We're already through, Lacey. Everything's done."

"It's not, Luke. It doesn't look like it. And—you don't need to explain no shit to me." I gave him a kind smile as I placed the pods back at his hands, him giving me an unsure look. Of course, always back to square one. "I don't know why... why we still do this, Luke."

"Do... what?"

"Do shit like this. Forget nothing ever happened when it continued to bite us repeatedly in the back. Why you still try to fix whatever it is between us when it obviously broke us apart—we became unfixable, Luke. I could understand if we agreed to be civil for the band, but I—I can't pretend like I'm not hurting." A tear escaped on my eyes and I abruptly wiped it, scared him seeing me cry would look like I'm too weak in his eyes. "I can't look at you and see my best friend, Luke. I can't look at you without getting so mad at you. I mean—it's not your fault I fell in love with you...but you played on me!" My hands holding the beer pointed at him as my tears continue to fall. Why can't I stop? "I gotta leave."

I stood up with my purse around my shoulders, slowly making my way towards the window when he spoke. This time, lowly... and gravelly. "I'll stop." My breathing hitched. "I'll stop trying to fix us, to—to do whatever it is that hurts you. I'll stop." He turned, his baby blues not as bright as I saw this morning and it struck something in my chest once again. "Just... don't leave, Lace."

"I—I'm sorry, Luke." I turned, knowingI was already contempt in my decisions and had already called Oliver about hisoffer two days ago but something, something about the bright moon, the sound ofone of their old music playing at the living room, and the booze, I turned."Hey, Lukey?" I called, walking backwards. "Let's make a deal." He furrowed his brows but nod. "You go your way, I'll go mine. If we're meant to?" I gripped the bottle tightly and smiled. "I'll meet you there."