Our Secret Love || A Luke Hemmings Fanfiction

Chapter 6

I waited for a response but all I got was a head shake. "Is that why you were with that ass?"

"Maybe." I raised my arms up in defeat.

"Damn Jess, don't you think? That picture was nothing but now you've gone and thrown yourself at the biggest douche bag at this party! You've made everything worse for you."

That took everything out of me. I couldn't be brave anymore. But I tried my best and held back my tears so I could speak. "What happened to 'don't let it get to you'? Put aside these photo scandals and just stop and think how I feel right now."

"What about how I feel?"

"Don't even go there, Luke! You left me alone tonight after you begged me to come here!" I yelled, no longer sad but frustrated with him.

"I have other friends here, Jess. Not just you. When did you get so clingy?"

My eyes widened because he knows that's not what this is about. Something is different about him, something I'm just now noticing. Bloodshot eyes, alcohol smell coming from his shirt. He was drunk.

"I'm not being clingy, Luke. And I get you have other friends besides me, but for the past two hours did you even look for me? I don't know anyone else here, and I only came for you."

"Yeah, well you're doing a hell of a job showing it by hooking up with that ass!" Luke pursed his lips. He looked me dead in the eye, swaying side to side. His eyes were laced with venom. I've been around drunk Luke before—but I've never seen this side of him, sober or not. "You come to this party, where people are already calling you a slut, and you give them more to talk about in that outfit."

"Luke, why—"

"It's almost like you like the attention you get from being and acting like a complete whore." He said. He kept looking at me, judgement clear in his eyes and I wondered if this was the alcohol talking or if he actually thought I was a slut.

But at this point, it wouldn't matter anyway. The words were said, the hateful and judgemental look on his face was received. I walked directly towards him and raised my hand to slap him. My hand connected with his jaw and I walked out of the room.

When I got to the door Michael was standing out in the hall, and I knew he heard and saw everything. He looked apologetic for me, like he wished he could do something.

"Jess, wait!" He called after me, chasing me down the stairs. "Jess, stop!"

But I didn't slow down, I couldn't. So I walked right out of the house, into the cool fall air. Michael was at my side almost instantly. But I kept walking away—until I felt a hand grab my arm. Michael turned me around to face him and that's when it happened. I let myself break down; in front of Michael, in front of drunk party goers.

But Michael didn't seem to care. He let me cry on his shoulder. "He doesn't mean it, you know that, right?"