the hating game ; lrh

six

"CALUM, YOU'RE DOING IT wrong again!" Michael groans loudly, glaring at his bandmate from across the room. "You're supposed to strum on the off-beat."

I sit on the couch in Michael's basement, chewing quietly on my peanut mnms — the bribery Calum had awarded me for accompanying him to band practice — and minding my own business. Aside from the confectionary reward, I had only agreed to go because I had two hours to kill before I needed to even begin getting ready for my date with Ashton, and there was nothing good on daytime TV. However, after the continuous bickering between the band members that seemed to be oddly prominent today, I was beginning to regret my decision.

"Right, right. Sorry," Calum apologises, cursing at himself under his breath. I feel bad for my brother — he always seemed to be the weak link in the band, but it wasn't his fault. They desperately lacked a drummer, and so being the bassist made him largely responsible for the group's tempo. He had never received guitar lessons like Luke and Michael had, and he could only teach himself so much.

"You guys really need a drummer," I chime in, hoping that it will detract some attention from Calum — the boys hated when I brought up that fact.

"We don't need a drummer, Rory," Luke retorts almost instantly, as if it's a mechanism, sending an icy glare my way. "We're doing fine without one."

"Clearly not," I tell him. "You know, I could—"

"For the last time, Rory, you're not joining the band," Michael shuts down the idea the moment it escapes my mouth. I pretend to frown and be upset, sinking back into the comfortable couch, but really I'm happy because I know I've achieved my goal. "Let's just go again from the top."

"Fine," Luke huffs and readjusts his fingers on the guitar before counting the band in. "One, two, three."

Calum begins strumming first, a steady bass beat filling the room. His brows are furrowed tightly as he concentrates completely on staying in time as the other boys join in.

"She sits at home with the lights out, I'm seeing life in different colours," Luke begins singing, his voice flooding the room. As much as I hated Luke Hemmings with every fibre of my being,
I could never deny that he had a beautiful singing voice — of course, this always made me hate him even more. Luke parts his lips to continue singing, but before he can get any other words out all of the boys stop playing and turn to scowl at Calum.

"Sorry!" Calum winces, his body retracting in an attempt to hide from the other boys. He clutches his guitar close to his body, almost hugging it, as he apologises. "I think I'm out of tune."

Luke lets out a loud groan and lets his head hang back, eyes rolling dramatically. "Are you serious, Calum?" He glares. "We've been here for over an hour and you only now realise that you're out of tune? Jesus."

"Shut up, Luke," I snap back, unable to watch as he criticises my brother. Band practice turned into an argument more often than not — someone was always out of tune, or out of time, or off their game, or something. As much as I like to joke about it, I really do believe that they need a drummer. Before he has the chance to respond, I turn to Calum and let out a sigh. "We've gotta get going, Cal."

"What? It's only—" Michael pauses to glance at his watch before continuing, a bewildered expression on his face. "—five o'clock!"

"Five o'clock!?" I leap up from the couch, my eyes wide with panic — Ashton was picking me up at six o'clock and I still hadn't even showered let alone begun to get ready. "We really have to go."

"You can't leave," Michael shakes his head, looking from Calum to me and back again. "We haven't even started Out of My Limit!"

"Sorry, Mike," I pluck Calum's guitar from his grip, the strap flicking him in the head as I do so. "People to see, places to be."