Stories I Never Finished

Gentle Poison

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"I'm on notice, hoping that you don't run"

°•. ✿ .•°

Luke had barely risen from, what had been, his comfortable seat for the night when his shoulder was tapped upon by one of the two security bouncers the bar hired.

"Something wrong?" Luke was far beyond sober enough to know he hadn't done anything to warrant a kick-out.

"Them lads wanna talk to you." The woman said, gesturing subtly to the band now beginning to pack up while the crowd was beckoned out onto the streets.

Luke's eyebrows furrowed together, pale fingers brushing across the fabric of his leather jacket as he pulled it off from the back of his chair. The woman joined her co-worker, ushering the drunken crowd before Luke could ask her if she happened to know why the men wanted a word or two.

He let his blue eyes briefly wander across the barroom, lights having been switched on in the main area near the exit doors while bartenders and workers began to pack up for the night; ready for cleaners to step in and take over in an hour or so. The stage had, somewhat, been left in the dark while the young men continued to pack away long winding cords and pieces of instruments.

Shrugging his jacket on over the dark blue shirt he wore, his fingers almost itched to button up the few buttons he'd left undone over his chest as he sauntered his way toward the band. With slight guilt, he cast his gaze toward Calum, the bassist, momentarily watching while the man in black jeans and a simple black shirt & boots coiled a long cord around his arm, seamless in his motion.

The guitarist had moved toward the larger equipment, his metallic-painted red guitar already packed and ready to go, and Luke didn't pay him mind as the man in a patch-adorned faded denim jacket, black jeans, boots and graphic shirt went about his work.

After a short while, Calum made a move to greet the man they had beckoned over. Having packed the cord away, he stood in place and crossed his arms casually over his chest.

"Hey," his voice caught Luke's attention instantly while Ashton hauled himself up from where he had begun to dismantle the drum kit.

Calum's friends glanced toward him as he moved toward the end of the stage to meet with Luke's curious, yet perplexed, figure. "Like the show?" He flashed a casual grin, gesturing to the stage he stood upon as though he hadn't been the one to beckon Luke up.

"It was good." Luke truthfully replied, crossing his arms over his chest and sneaking another glance toward Ashton before his eyes returned to the bassist. "They usually are. You guys are pretty great."

"Ah that's good then, huh?" Calum nodded along. "Makes the practice worth it."

"Mm." Luke pursed his lips into a thin line, waiting to be told what these men wanted. "I liked the drums."

Calum's smile formed into more of an amused smirk, his head nodding ever so slightly while brown eyes seemed to look at Luke as though the blond had uttered a string of agreeable yet insane controversies. "He is good, init'he?"

The bassist swayed backward slightly with a step, grinning toward the drummer whose head had kept down; the slightly taller man kneeling on the stage as he tucked a few cords into a small case.
"Everyone loves a good drum beat, not a real song without it, ain't that right, Ash?"

"Yeah." Ashton didn't seem too invested in the conversation, but he still lifted his head to look up; catching Luke's wandering gaze.

Luke felt his heart swell in his throat, his neck burning hot as tingles ran through his body like a shock wave; all from a mere look. Maybe his celebrity crush was a bit more than just a 'little interest'.