10

2.8K 97 27
                                    

Warning: drugs and sexual predation.

✇✇✇

Reality had always been completely subjective in the eyes of Luke Hemmings. It was his firm belief that perception– the way that one saw the world through their own personal lens– was just as valid as whatever the 'objective' truth might be, if objectivity was even possible. Luke believed that each individual's worldview was true for them, regardless of whether anyone else's truth aligned with it.

At the present moment, Luke's reality was fucking beautiful. Colours were vivid, every touch tickled at his skin, the world was harmonious– all thanks to Calum for giving him a few tabs of LSD. 

Luke stood in the bathroom of the ground floor of the house, staring in awe at the mirror in front of him. His face was made up of swirling geometric shapes, which intertwined like magic to create the cells of his skin. He wanted desperately to reach out and touch his reflection, but he was almost certain that doing so would result in him falling through the glass and getting stuck in an alternate dimension. Possibly not, but it wasn't worth the risk.

"I'm going out," Calum's voice announced from the foyer, echoing loudly. "If any of you want me to bring anything back, tell me now."

Luke walked out of the bathroom, the air feeling thick against his legs. It was like he was walking through jelly. "Can you bring me some clothes?" he requested, trying to keep his composure in front of the young kids who didn't know he was high. "I've been wearing this stuff for, like, ever."

"Oh! I need clothes too!" Ashton chimed in from the couch, his head popping up like a little Whac-a-Mole. "Can you get me something pretty? Please, Calum? You said I could wear whatever I want."

"Define pretty," the murderer demanded, seemingly unmoved by how adorable the curly-haired teen was.

Ashton bit his lip and squinted, considering the nuances of what it meant to be pretty. "Like, pink. And cute."

Eloquently worded.

"Just get him anything a five-year-old girl would wear," Mikey deadpanned with a casual flick of his wrist, causing Luke to suppress a fit of laughter. He was right! Ashton was just like a little kid! In a charming way, of course.

"Noted," the stoic man at the door replied, nodding his head slightly. "Any specific requests from you, Luke?"

The way Calum said his name made Luke want to peel his skin off. "You can just go to my apartment and take stuff if you want," he muttered, reaching into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve his nearly-forgotten key. "It's Claymore Suites, apartment  two-fourteen."

"Alright. I'll be back in a few hours. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry. Oh, and try not to burn the house down, because you won't be able to get out," Calum advised, pulling Luke forward by the scruff of his neck and pressing a gentle, almost nurturing kiss to the top of his head. His lips felt like a thousand ants walking across the blond's scalp.

"Have fun!" Ashton called as the evil man finally left, locking the door behind him. 

Luke breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to be free of Calum's looming presence. While the man did provide him with incredible drugs and almost-as-incredible handjobs, he was still a killer, and the blue-eyed man couldn't quite get past that fact no matter how breathtakingly fuzzy the world looked.

But Mikey and Ashton weren't bad. They were pure and sweet Luke really cherished those qualities, likely because they were qualities he had lost long ago. He felt a duty to protect the younger boys from Calum, no matter how much they seemed to like him.

ERROR // CALM AUWhere stories live. Discover now