If I Were a Boy by Beyonce.
He woke up in his bed. It didn't even register with him, the fact that he had to be escorted home from the bar less than 12 hours prior. His head was pounding and the light peaking in from his two windows made things worse. He attempted to roll over but was stopped by a lump of warmth that clung onto him. He looked down to see a familiar ball of brunette hair fastened atop a pale head.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, her legs pulled up practically to her chin. She stirred lightly as he realized how much movement he had made the past few minutes. He remembered how the smallest noise or change of position would wake her. Her eyes fluttered open, "Go back to sleep," he said, wrapping his arms around her back. She shook her head, "I'm here to take care of you, not the other way around," she said in a groggy voice.
"What do you mean you're here to take care of me?" he asked her. She sat up and looked at him, "Do you not remember a thing that happened last night?" He stared at the ceiling. The only actions he could recollect were buying someone a drink and being in the back of Calum's car, "No," he lied for simplicity.
She chuckled, sitting up completely, "Do you want me to tell you?" He bit his lip ring, "Do I want you to tell me?"
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After Luke and Arabella kissed, he asked her to go home with him. "I'd be lying if I told you I didn't want to take you up on that," Arabella said with a toothy grin. They walked over to the bar to pay their tabs, "I'll get yours, babe," he said. "No, really, you don't have to do that," she said, blushing.
He approached the bartender, "Luke and Avery's tabs, please," he said. She put on a fake smile, looking at the ground then back up at the man behind the counter, "Arabella, not Avery," she corrected him. Luke's smile faded as he looked at Arabella.
She was around five-foot-five-inches. She had thick, caramel-colored hair that reached down her back. Her cheek bones were defined and naturally rosy, dusted with light brown freckles. She didn't wear much makeup, just enough to accentuate her features. Her legs were sixty percent of her body. All of these features resembled those of Luke's long-term friend, Avery.
Luke backed away, not bothering to pay his tab. He tripped over a chair as he continued walking backwards, "Dude are you okay?" a man asked as he witnessed Luke's behavior. He followed Luke's gaze to Arabella, whose eyes were still locked with Luke's ocean-colored orbs. The man walked over to Arabella, "What the fuck did you do to him?"
"I don't know," she said, her eyes still on Luke, "I corrected him when he called me someone else's name then he started backing away from me." The man approached Luke, "You here with anyone? Do you have a ride home?" he asked. "Where's Avery?" Luke asked.
The man motioned for Arabella to come to him. "Did he call you Avery?" he asked her. She nodded.
"Hand me your phone, mate," the man said to Luke. He then reached into his pocket and fished out his phone, dropping it into the stranger's hand.
He called Liz first who, naturally, freaked out. The man decided he'd tell her that it was just a joke and that Luke had left his phone at a friend's house. He then contacted Ashton since that was the last person Luke had texted. Ashton referred him to Calum, who referred him to Avery.
At first, Avery didn't answer. The man was getting agitated. He wouldn't have continued to help Luke if he wasn't laying on a booth crying. He texted Avery and said "emergency". A few seconds later, a call came through from her contact, "What, Luke?" she said.
"It's not Luke," the man said. There was a brief pause, "Can I get a name then?" she asked, this time worry was evident in her tone. "Charlie," he said, "Listen, your friend is drunk out of his mind. He's been asking for you all night, I think he thought you were here with him. He doesn't have a ride home and I don't trust sticking him in a cab or an Uber. Could you come get him?"
Avery was silent, "Avery?" Charlie repeated. "You said you're at a bar?" she asked. "Yeah," he said. "You must have the wrong number. This has to all be a strange coincidence. Luke doesn't drink. We haven't spoken in weeks. Are you sure you've got the right Luke wanting to contact the right Avery?" she asked, not believing what was happening.
"He's really tall," Charlie started describing Luke, "He's got brown hair, it's rather dark. He has a piercing in his lip. He's wearing a blue jean jacket. Sound familiar?" Charlie asked. Avery breathed a sigh of relief, "No, my Luke- uh- the Luke I know is blond and doesn't have any piercings. Also, once again, he doesn't drink. You have the wrong girl. Hope you find him a ride," she said before hanging up.
An hour later, Avery got another call. This time, it was Brooklyn, "Hey Brookie, you'd never believe the call I got earlier," she started before Brooklyn cut her off. "How fast can you get to the guys' house?"
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She pulled in behind Luke's car like always, Oh thank god. His car's here. That means he's not the guy from the bar and this is all one fucked up coincidence, she thought. She used her key she almost forgot she had to unlock the basement door, the door she always used to enter the two-story home.
She peaked into the den, where the lights were out. She climbed the stairs that lead straight into the living room. She could already hear Stella and Michael arguing about something. There's one thing I didn't miss about being here so much. She walked down the hall where Stella, Michael, and Ashton stood outside of Luke's door. Fuck, it is something having to do with Luke.
The three of them looked at her as Stella silently walked over to Calum's door, knocking on it a few times. Him and Brooklyn joined the rest of them in the hall. "What the fuck is going on?" Avery asked them.
"Luke won't come out. He won't eat. He won't shower. He won't change. He said he's not doing anything until he sees you," Calum said quietly. Avery huffed, handing her keys and handbag to Stella. She knocked once on Luke's door before opening it.
What she saw took her breath away.
